Page 112 of Their Fierce Little Monster

“Any trouble, we whistle,” Kazak suggests.

Then we split in opposite directions, and I call my monster forward. He’s stronger and harder to take down.

I storm past the cabin and enter the thick forest, on alert for any sounds or movement. I grew up hunting in our local woods, and this brings back memories of the haunted woodlands, where some monsters didn’t come out after dark.

Shadows cloak the landscape, trees gathered close, evergreens covering the ground. No sign of an animal path or any passage leading us downhill. I skirt around an enormous trunk and keep tracking forward.

The silence worries me, which means something is near. Birds fall silent when they spot predators from above, but then again, they could perceive me as one too.

I move slowly, taking silent steps, scanning the land, when a breeze flutters across my face. It slaps me in the senses with a wet, sour fur scent.

The faint snap of a twig sounds behind me, and I twist around fast.

In the shadows of two trunks stands an oversized hound, easily reaching my chest. Low shoulders, the thing hunches down now that it knows I spotted it, fur mangled and brown.

Two heads jut from its thick, stump-like neck, long jaws and mouths crowded with sharp teeth.

The beast lets out a screeching half shriek, half growl, and the hairs on my neck stand.

“Come at me, you son of a bitch!” I bellow, eager for a decent battle.

And we charge.

It bounds forward and launches itself at me. I drop low at the last second, forcing the beast to leap over me from the momentum. With one vicious swipe, my claws tear through flesh and tendons. A savage gash remains across its throat, blood spraying out.

That horrid screech again, and I hurl myself to my feet, pivoting to face the creature already spinning for me. One head slumps forward, nostrils flaring as if struggling for air. But apparently, one is sufficient to continue attacking.

Mouth gaping in a threatening display of teeth, it comes at me.

I live for these moments—the adrenaline, the fury, the danger.

Perspiration runs down my spine as I hold my position. Then it’s on me, its jaw snapping at me.

Heart pounding, I throw myself sideways, except the fucker comes with me, kicking dirt as it rotates.

It’s too close. I leap back, but those jaws snap and catch flesh across my arm. Sharpness digs into my flesh, and I wince.

The beast snarls, lips peeled back. It hurls itself at me, mouth gaping open.

I throw myself into a side roll and up onto my feet, coiling around. I scramble after it and leap onto its back with my whole body. My chest collides with its back, hands fisting its fur to hang on. My legs drag behind the creature, which is enough to make it stagger under my weight. It swings that huge head sideways to reach me, teeth snapping inches from my face.

I heave for breath and throw my arm under its neck. Groaning, I swipe my claws, raking the hell out of its throat.

It stumbles under me, and I throw myself off, landing on my side on the hard ground.

The beast slumps against a tree, tongues rolled out of its mouths. Blood now gushes from both gaping throats down into the soil.

I gag, as the thing reeks heavily. Up on my feet, I swipe the blood away with my injured hand to discover three gashes. They sting, but I’ve endured worse.

Can’t say the same for this bastard.

I swing away and quickly sweep the area for a passage leading down the hill. But everywhere I check, it’s only overgrown evergreens, fallen logs, and branches. The only area that opens up for easy travel is where the land rises into the mountain. The opposite direction we seek.

So I return to the cabin.

Kazak strolls out of the woods as well and glances up at my approach.

“Any luck?” I ask.