The words are mixed with a rough exhale of breath. You barely hear yourself saying them. But the effect is loud. A rush of air sweeps past your face as something leaps from the darkness, impossibly huge, fluid and solid at the same time. The weight against your chest lifts and the mutters and grunts of the men vanish.

There should be screaming, you reason as you watch. A man unspools like a sliced spindle, insides falling to the ground in a heap. There’s no air in his lungs to scream, just gurgling as the wind leaves him. Another sinks into the ground, no longer solid beneath his feet, betrayed by something he doesn’t understand. They all vanish or are undone one by one, slack jawed and wide eyed like confused infants.

The last one stands, staggering from side to side, swaying from blood loss. The bloody mouthed attacker watches as the darkness recedes, taking on a familiar shape. Long limbed and wolf like, but stretched out to impossible proportions. In a strange way, you’re reminded of a shadow puppet of a wolf. In a show you once saw there was a hungry wolf. It ate everything. It ate the hero and the villain. It ate the world.

Grinning, snapping jaws come down on the bloody mouthed man. The shadow seems to take more joy from this one, shaking him like a dog with a rat. The crunching and tearing noises are obscene. You feel a strange, vicious joy settle over you and warm your skin. It makes you press your thighs together.

The shadow discards the remains. The weighty, useless carcass thuds to the ground and the shadow’s great head turns to you. Soft edged and hard mouthed you watch the creature and wonder why you aren’t more frightened.

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