They surged forward, a writhing mass of teeth and claws, eyes shimmering like cleared lights interior the haze. A swarm of beasts, each one one of a kind in its grotesqueness—some with turned, deferred individuals, others with developing maws lined with never-ending columns of extreme teeth. They moved as one, an unholy tide clearing through the fogginess, their breath thick with the fragrance of ruin and starvation.
I squeezed myself against the cold stone divider, heart beating, knowing that covering up was worthless. They were animals of the night, drawn to fear, to the tremor in a breath, the unordinary pound of a set beat. And I was their prey.
Among them, a towering mammoth with worn out wings and bowed horns turned its head, its liquid eyes locking onto mine. A coordinate grin intensified over its bowed go up against. It knew. It knew.
I required to run, to vanish into the night, but my legs denied to move. The creatures assembled closer, their throaty snarls mixing into an spooky go without. I closed my eyes, bracing for the unavoidable.
But then…
Chuckling.
A brutal, resounding cackle undulating through the swarm. One by one, the mammoths finished, their bowed faces turning in perplexity. The towering beast tilted its head. At that point, without caution, it snickered too—a noteworthy, booming boom that sent shudders through my spine.
Had I gone unhinged? Or had they? The swarm of creatures, not startling, by and by appeared up crazy in their cheer.
Maybe, interior the conclusion, fear was the foremost vital creature of all.