The creature was rushing at her with blinding speed. Before Mary could lift her rifle and shoot the kerosene lamps, it had tackled her. She shouted as its claws dug and tore at her skin. Blood drenched her arms and stained her skin, rivulets of crimson streaming down her pink flesh.

It reached one of its spindly, gray arms up toward the ceiling and brought its claws down, slashing Mary across the face. She ignored the sudden bolt of pain and reared her leg back. With a single, powerful kick she sent it flying backward where it crashed into the wood wall. Mary grasped the rifle that had fallen to her side. She sat up and aimed the barrel aimed at the monster. It leapt at her, and she fired. Hot lightning burst through her shoulder as it dislocated due to the rifle’s kickback. The weapon fell from her limp hand, and the monster shrieked as the bullet burrowed into its left eye. Dark, crimson blood shot out, dousing the floor, propelling it backward again.

Mary pushed herself to her feet, her right arm dangling uselessly by her side. Pain was pulsing through her body and neck. She reached down and grabbed the rifle with her left hand. She then raised it and pointed it at the kerosene lamps in front of her. Her arm wavered, and her forearms tensed, from the weight of the weapon. She fired, but her shot went wide and burrowed into the fireplace. Mary growled in anger and looked over at her dislocated shoulder.

It was back on its feet. Its lone, red eye burned with bloodthirst. It lunged again, and Mary swung the rifle, hoping to hit it. She missed. It dug its claws into her chest, and she pushed away the pain as the force of the attack knocked her on her back. The monster ripped its claws free from her flesh, a spray of blood flying in the air. Mary noticed an odd beauty to the way the dark droplets were colored with orange firelight. Then, it brought its face down and bit deep into her left shoulder. Acting on instinct, Mary used all her strength to roll her body on top of the creature’s. She then pushed her shoulder downward, bashing the monster’s head into the wood floor. It released her, and Mary used her good hand to grab it by the neck. She tightened her grip and watched its red eye constrict. It took its clawed hand and buried it in her right side, just above her hip. Fresh pain burst through her body as hot blood poured onto the floor. She smashed the monster’s head into the ground again. It emitted a loud crack and the monster snarled before stabbing her again with its claws. The second wound was just above the first, and agony was lancing up her side with white-hot heat. Fatigue was setting in, and Mary’s vision was getting blurry.

It kicked her backward, copying her own attack. The claws on its feet dug into her chest and tore at her skin, slashing sideways, and then she was pushed backward. Black spots dotted Mary’s vision. Her wounds gave off their own heat, and her dislocated shoulder was sending jolts of pain into her neck.

Clattering claws scraped against wood as the creature dashed forward again and leaped into the air. Mary forced her body to roll to the left. Her limp arm smacked into the floor, sending another jolt of pain throughout her entire body. It landed gracefully; wood crackled and crunched under its feet as its claws dug into the floor. Mary stared at its gray flesh and thick, sharp teeth as she sucked in a breath. The entire cabin reeked of hot, copper blood and burning wood.

Mary turned on her stomach and reached her good hand out, pulling her body forward with labored breaths. Sweat welled on her forehead and neck, streaming down her body in thin tributaries, stinging as it joined her wounds and the streaks of blood coursing from her body. She moved with mad desperation toward the silver rifle lying amidst the collection of kerosene lamps. Her limp arm dragged against the coarse wood beside her as she pushed out wheezing gasps and pulled in gulps of air.

It was on her again, and Mary was unsure whether she had the strength to stop her own death. It seemed inevitable now, that her skin would become as gray and cold as the demonic monster that attacked her with endless persistence.

Mary grasped the rifle with her left hand, her heart soaring as her hands came in contact with the cold metal. Her body lurched sideways as the creature turned her over onto her back. It then dove its head toward her neck. Mary grabbed its own neck with her left hand. Salty sweat was pouring down her arm, down her forehead, down her bloody chest. The creature snapped and pushed forward, its triangular teeth mashing together as it strained to reach her throat. Mary’s strength was faltering. Her right arm was her dominant arm, and it was limp at her side. Her muscles strained as it pushed with inhumane determination. Its red eye burned with delight. Mary dug her own nails into its gray flesh, unleashing trickles of dark, red blood. The creature didn’t seem to notice. She could smell its fetid breath – damp, rotting flesh filled her nostrils. Blue and purple dots joined the black spots in her vision. Energy was sapped from her body as it inched closer, its teeth closing in on her neck.

Her mind strayed to Emma.

To Rose.

To Luis.

To John.

To Jackson.

She didn’t have much strength left, but a fire was burning in her gut. She gritted her teeth and pushed, holding the monster at bay, even as burning pain shot through her veins. In that fire, she found the truth: she wasn’t going to give up. She could never give up.

She was a woman. She had been through far worse agony, and she had seen more horrible things than the deformed monster that was bearing in on her. There was no way someone, or something, was going to choose her fate for her.

The fire in her gut exploded with sudden fury, and Mary roared in the creature’s face. She pushed against the monster’s neck, thrusting it away from her body. It snapped and gnashed its teeth. Mary stayed focused, even as her vision began to pinhole, darkness closing in around her. Veins bulged in her arms and neck. The flames of the fire were behind her, to her left. She could feel the warmth of the blaze licking the top of her head.

With a final thrust, Mary threw the creature above her head and used her legs to propel it toward the fire. It screeched in sudden panic and shrieked even louder as it hit the fire. She sucked in the burst of pain that rippled through her bleeding side.

Mary rolled over as orange light filled the cabin, followed by the stench of burning flesh. She ignored the odor. With a few, swift movements, she lifted her right arm out in front of her and popped her shoulder back into place. She bit her lip as another sudden burst of pain shot through her shoulder.

It was writhing on the ground in front of her, attempting to roll around and smother the fire. Mary took her opportunity. She limped toward the fire, toward the kerosene lamps. She could barely see anything through the darkness that had encroached on her vision, but she could still see the rifle. Orange light was glinting off its silver frame.

Mary put one hand to her side, where she was losing the most blood. Straining, she reached down and grasped the rifle. The creature continued to roll around on the ground. The flames were smaller, but she had enough time to do what she needed to do. She pointed the rifle at the lamps in front of her, and she pulled the trigger.

The last thing she thought of was her daughter. Her bright smile. Her strength. It was a comforting thought. Then the orange flames consumed the cabin, and she knew no more.

Next Chapter: Emma