All Hail the Shifter King
Title: Defensive Measures
Word Count: 293
“Stay back,” she warned, brandishing the knife in what she hoped was a threatening gesture - judging by the amused look on the man’s face, she was far from successful. And really, who would take her seriously? A girl in her underwear with a kitchen knife? It was like something out of a cheesy horror flick.
He lunged at her with the same unearthly speed as earlier, and in her panic the only thing she could think to do was brace the knife with both hands and plant her back against the refrigerator. His body collided with hers hard enough to knock the wind out of her, the fridge rocking backward with the contents crashing about inside. His fingernails (Claws! her mind insisted) dug into her shoulders and punctured the skin with a series of stabbing pops, and the growl that rolled from his throat was like no sound she’d ever heard before, from human or animal. The knife rocked violently in her hands, and it was only when she noticed her fingers were nested against the hot skin of his stomach that she realized what she’d done - her immediate reaction was to release the weapon but he’d already pulled away by that point, leaving her clenching the gore-streaked knife as he clapped his hands to the gouts of blood pouring from his punctured abdomen.
There was a long, tense moment in which she was certain he would attack her again. She could see it in his eyes, the primal desire to tear her limb from limb, but in light of his injury he seemed to think the better of it and backtracked from the room with another snarl, leaving a trail of bright blood splattered across the tiled floor in his wake.
Word Count: 293
“Stay back,” she warned, brandishing the knife in what she hoped was a threatening gesture - judging by the amused look on the man’s face, she was far from successful. And really, who would take her seriously? A girl in her underwear with a kitchen knife? It was like something out of a cheesy horror flick.
He lunged at her with the same unearthly speed as earlier, and in her panic the only thing she could think to do was brace the knife with both hands and plant her back against the refrigerator. His body collided with hers hard enough to knock the wind out of her, the fridge rocking backward with the contents crashing about inside. His fingernails (Claws! her mind insisted) dug into her shoulders and punctured the skin with a series of stabbing pops, and the growl that rolled from his throat was like no sound she’d ever heard before, from human or animal. The knife rocked violently in her hands, and it was only when she noticed her fingers were nested against the hot skin of his stomach that she realized what she’d done - her immediate reaction was to release the weapon but he’d already pulled away by that point, leaving her clenching the gore-streaked knife as he clapped his hands to the gouts of blood pouring from his punctured abdomen.
There was a long, tense moment in which she was certain he would attack her again. She could see it in his eyes, the primal desire to tear her limb from limb, but in light of his injury he seemed to think the better of it and backtracked from the room with another snarl, leaving a trail of bright blood splattered across the tiled floor in his wake.