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- The sound starts above us, a low, growling click that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and my skin get tight as every primordial instinct I have left screams, screams, screams for me to run, to get to cover, to get away.
- ...
- The creature doesn’t move. It doesn’t seem to care about how much effort it should take for something of its size to sit on a flat, vertical surface like the wall: it just crouches, perfectly balanced, preparing to strike.
- ...
- And then she turns and runs, hands in the air, screaming with all the force she can find. She runs, and the creature … it doesn’t run after her. “Run” implies that it ever touches the ground. It leaps, a single terrible, graceful moment, and hits her from behind. Then it leaps again, and there isn’t even time for her to scream. In an instant, she’s gone.
- Echo, Chapter 11
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