Gone

    Sweat trickled down the back of his neck sending a slight chill throughout his whole body.  Any movement he made could reveal his presence which would mean almost certain death.  The creature was coming closer, carelessly breaking twigs as if wanting the whole world to know its location.  Slowly he raised the rarely used revolver while quietly sucking in a deep breath.  This shot had to be steady.  It had to do the job.  He closed one eye and aimed, slowly squeezing the trigger.  The hammer clanked harmlessly against a faulty primer.  Fear filled him as he yanked again.  Still nothing happened.  Above him he could hear the heavy breathing of the creature; its putrid breath filled his nose.  It stared down at him, a sneer on its face.  His heart dropped landing like a rock in his stomach.  “No!  Nooo!” he turned to run but a hand grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him backwards, slamming him into the ground.  

    With the taste of dirt and blood in his mouth he looked up to see its eyes glowing eerily as it looked him up and down like a piece of meat.  "Now it is your turn."