100 Words a Day 455

A chorus of demonic howls shattered the silence, sending echoes of terror through the village, like shards of broken glass hitting the cold ground. In their fragile huts, the inhabitants held each other close and pictured the beasts’ advance. The muscular, purple-fleshed monsters ran on all fours, their three-toed feet rending chunks out of the frozen earth. Another round of shrieks rent the air, let loose from the toothy maws, dripping with spittle, that occupied much of the space on the fiends’ face below their large, looming eyes. They closed on the village, eager to feast on the souls within.