Something behind its horrible mandibles opens, making wet, slushing sounds. A long, black, watery tongue licks my face just slightly. It feels like rough bark. It feels like an attempt to tear my cheek apart. Then, the sound of satisfaction, pure delight, escapes from it through mere touch.
John slams a tray of drinks in front of me, returning my attention. He takes a look at me, asking, "Are you alright, Cole? You're shaking."
The creature whips around behind John, its eye staring me down, clicking its mandibles excitedly. It can see me sweat, my heavy breathing, it can hear my heartbeat drumming. My hands are clammy. Are my knees shaking? I can't tell.
"Shaking! Shaking! Yes! You. Do. See!"
"I'm fine, John," I lie. "I think the night is just getting to me."
"Take a walk outside, once you deliver those mugs. No need to overwork for a damned brothel."
I nod, quickly taking the tray and bringing it to the group of sailors. My pace quickens, moving at an erratic speed. Every step feels heavy. It takes more work to move forward as if I'm water through the depths of the sea. The alcohol swings and swishes, but my hand slips, and I harshly drop the tray to their table.
The beers splatter all over the sailors. The seamen quickly jump from their seats, "Are you daft?" one of them yells. The sailors attempt to dry themselves to no effect before they turn their gaze on me. My attention wasn't on them.
The creature floats in front of me, clicking its mandibles like a drum. The carapace shudders as a screeching roar echoes through the room. It spirals through the air, filled with joy.
"NEW PREY! NEW PREY! NEW PREY! IT'S MINE!"
My eyes lock onto the monster. Its eye snaps to me, the tongue coming out once more, following a full row of teeth, human teeth, chomping at the air.
It's going to kill me.
One of the sailors grabs my shoulder, speaking half-drunk, half-angry, but I didn't look at him, not even a glance.
I see the creature. Parts of its carapace crack and split, releasing black, elongated stalks, six of them, bending at an angle unlike a limb should. Thin, needle-like fingers sprout, slicing at the air. The demon creeps closer toward me, erasing any of the space I create. The sailor in front keeps trying to speak to me, growing angrier and angrier for being ignored. I hear John in the background yelling across the bar, telling him to stop.
The sailor is blocking the way of the creature. He has a wide build and a thick neck from countless nights working at sea. Despite being muscular, nothing can stop it from reaching me.
The creature is impatient. One of its limbs joins its fingers together, piercing into the back of the sailor. Immediately, the man stops his yelling, halting in his steps.
No blood drips to the floor. The creature pulls back, seizing a dim light—a faint, wispy glow emanating from the man's rear. I could see the man's face contort into anguished pain. His screams are silent, his eyes become milky, and his body shrinks.
The man falls as the creature clamps onto its prize: his soul. The soul has the sailor's body, but unlike his body, I hear his damned screaming this time.
It reverberates through the room. People nearby stare at the fallen body. His fellows call out to him and begin to laugh, believing he has become too drunk.
But they're wrong.
It has stolen his soul.
The creature pushes its mouth outward, and a mass of muscles and black sinew grows behind it. It unhinges its jaw, stretching it until it surrounds the sailor's soul. And in one bite, it consumes it whole.
"Not. My. Prey."
It stares at me. And it speaks:
"I. Want. You."
The creature and I lock eyes. It hovers, staying where it consumed the sailor's soul. A glowing light travels within the beast, dissipating as it reaches the center of its long body.
The thing twitches. The eye bulges, rolling in its socket, the black sinew around it splitting with wet cracks. It whispers some guttural noise like chains dragged across stone, like a throat filled with teeth.
Then it moves.
The thing shoots forward, a blur of bone-white and slick mandibles. It slices through the rafters, splintering wood. The lantern light wavers as its carapace scrapes the ceiling.
No one sees it. How can no one notice the damage it's doing? Why are they so ignorant? Why don't they open their eyes? They need to see it.
Oh, stars, it's coming after me.
I stumble backward. My feet are heavy. I can barely pick them up. I need to leave.
I need to run.
It's going to kill me.
No.
No.
No!
I can't die. I don't want to die!
I need to run.
I have to run.
I can't die like her.
I can't die like Mother.