It wasn’t until the beast was fully out, that Nigel looked up at it, and gasped. It was nine feat tall, had three webbed claws on each hand, a long, thin tail with flippers at each end of it’s tip, it’s legs were just below the surface of the lake, and although he couldn’t see them, Nigel was sure they were webbed claws as well a wide grinning mouth, devoid of lips and with teeth jutting out of every space in the gums, which were as black as decay. It had yellow eyes with black slits, blinked sideways and regularly, like the dragons Nigel saw on television. It’s scales was dark and slimy. The moon light making each detail noticeable, the water slushed as it wallowed through it, Gills opened and closed in it’s neck, and it was heading for Nigel. Nigel couldn’t believe his eyes as the beast approached him. It wasn’t real! Lake monsters were myths! Stories to tell children, so they would exercise caution! He knew! This thing wasn’t real!
But I am, a voice in his head said, a foreign voice. It sounded like it was speaking through a lung full of liquid. And I am hungry.
The beast before him drooled as it lumbered out of the lake, towards the bank, already imagining ways it would cut the little boy open with it’s large claws. Nigel shot to his feet and bolted away from the bank as the beast set foot on the lake bank.
Come back! It screamed in his head. Damn it come back! I just want to eat you!
Nigel ran through the path before him, wanting to put as much gap as he could between him and the monster. The path before him was suddenly rising, he was climbing the hill that led to Winter’s Street. The hill that was high and a bitch to climb, especially for a boy of eight. Behind him, the beast stopped at the foot of the hill and snarled. It dropped on all fours and began to climb that way, ascending faster than poor Nigel, who was breathless and sweaty after a few feet. Nigel glanced back and screamed, the beast was almost an reach away. Adrenaline pumped into his blood and he pushed himself to go faster. Meanwhile the beast had a firm grasp on the hill side, and was pulling itself up faster than Nigel could run.
Run little child, said the beast, run but you cannot escape me. Hear? YOU CANNOT ESCAPE ME!
Nigel tried and tried, he could see the street before him now, and it was close. It was so close. . . It was a meter away. . . He could do it. . . He could do it. . . He could— A claw grabbed his foot, digging into his sneakers, his skin and his ankle, Nigel stopped abruptly. He glanced down. It was the beast. Up close it was uglier than ever. He could see some scars on the beast’s face, he could see it’s slit nose narrowing and widening. The mouth hooked in an endless grin, grinned all the more.
Got ya. The beast yelled in his head.
Nigel screamed again. He tried to keep running, to pull free but the beast’s grip was deadly. The beast pulled down, and Nigel fell to the hill side he was trying to climb, hard, smashing his glasses and bursting a lip. The beast tightened it’s grip and leapt of the hill side, down to the valley were it’s home was. The jump was twenty feet high, it landed on it’s feet, knees bent, and felt nothing but the screaming child it held, slam against it’s back. It tossed the child to the floor in front of it. The child stopped yelped as it’s head smacked the floor, hard. It quieted. But it was still conscious, the pain had merely silenced it for a while. The beast grabbed the child by the shoulders, opened it’s mouth wide, pulled the child’s head into it, which was small compared to the mouth, and bit off the head. Blood sprayed all over the place, from the headless body, while the monster swallowed. After that, it began feasting, on the body of Nigel Gerth.