The Beast

Fettered in the trap spun by the beast’s own hands, Marie was unable to escape.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the creature lumbered nearer but the sickly stench of it invaded her nostrils, causing her to gag involuntarily. Its laboured breathing loomed closer, closer. Unable to stand the darkness any longer, Marie opened her eyes in time to see the dripping maw descending toward her face.

Even worse than having to wear Great Aunt Doris’s knitted Christmas jumper was the sloppy kiss that followed.