monster attack - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
The monster, though bipedal, was an expert on all fours. Should it need to run it just lowered its forepaws to the dirt and sprang away as fast as any wolf in the darkness. This was one of those times, accelerating on all fours toward a person foolish enough to be wandering by moonlight. The monster was so efficient that there wasn't even a scream, just the running of blood and a slumped form on the ground.
The monster was more like a cat than a snake. Instead of killing fast it preferred to toy with its food. The first strike was with a poisoned claw to slow the reaction time of the victim, after that it was play time. The "meal" would be allowed the chance to run, to feel the pounding of their own heart just a few more times and then the monster sank his teeth into their neck - just deep enough to let them bleed out slow.
A string of curses unraveled from his tongue, like yarn unfurling, as the creature advanced. It's golden scales shimmered with hot anger along with it's dark, cold eyes. Every step it took rattled his bones and struck his heart. He tried to dodge a swing from it's massive claws, but it struck his side and he tumbled into the dirt. He could hear nothing all was silenced, the yells of the audience, the hisses of the creature, all inaudible. All he could do is feel. Feel the cold ground pressed against his form, the heat from the pain, and the rhythm of the drum that would signal his end. He looked upward into the stars. He fought valiantly, and he prayed that his ancestors would accept him and take him home. He closed his eyes as he felt a searing pain, his very last.
And in the midst of it a flood came pouring from the hole--a flood of living beetles, covering the ground in fifteen-foot leaps as they dashed at the two.
To his horror, Tommy saw Jimmy Dodd among them, wrapped in his fur coat like a mummy, and being pushed and rolled forward like a football.
For a moment Tommy hesitated, torn between his solicitude for Jim Dodd and that for the girl. Then, as the foremost of the monsters bounded to her side, he ran between them. The vicious jaws snapped within six inches of Tommy's face, with a force that would have carried away an ear, or shredded the cheek, if they had met.
His clawed foot scrapes over the jagged edge of what was his "amniotic" tank. The violent sound of crushing metal rents the air with a shower of sparks. Whatever is underneath is no longer operational. With lungs full of this sterile air his salty breath creates humid vortexes; while his head moves side to side to assess his “world.” He hasn't the brain for reason, but instead simply a primal sense of rage twined with an indomitable will to survive.
His nascent roar fills this modern pit of microchips, speaking straight to my own primal centre. Despite the ambient temperature my skin is icy, all blood diverted to core organs. That's when the adrenaline hits such a fever pitch that “freeze” isn't going to cut it anymore. Apparently “flight” is the new order of the day, but not slowly like a conscious choice. My legs explode into violent motion. The pneumatic doors with their clinical hiss are five metres, perhaps less; but in the instant I feel my own motion I hear his footfalls and quakes under-boot. All I can do is pray that this “baby” isn't co-ordinated yet.
The monster came from above, legs dangling like a hungry arachnid. The pointed ends pierced the neck of the victim, hoisting them high, rendering them unable to even scream.
The first sign that the monster would attack was a shooting outward of caustic goo. The victim was thus blinded, entering into a nightmare that would end only with the consumption of their body.
Through the darkness came the glow of two yellow eyes, like sallow lamplight eight feet off the ground. They moved with a slight sway, as if the unseen body prowled like a big cat. Todd stopped. The eyes did not, with rapid acceleration and a more bounding motion the came right for him. In less than two seconds he was on his back gasping for air.