387. PSYCHIATRIC MADWOMAN

KATHERINE

The scream got stuck in my throat.

It was nothing but a blur—heavy footsteps thundering against the earth, emerging from the deep forest, massive claws reaching for Francis’s back.

Its roar tore through the night, shaking the entire world. The man who had me trapped had no time to react.

A shriek of agony filled the air when that fur-covered hand latched onto his throat, holding him like a ragdoll.

It lifted him over its head, wrenching him away from me.

Before my eyes, it stood like a giant—merciless, red-eyed, its gaze like two frozen rubies.

The force of the impact made me collapse against the tree, hugging my knees tightly to my chest as if they could protect me.

I was trembling, my teeth chattering, my vision flooded with crimson as a rain of blood poured from above.

Francis’s body was shredded between its claws. Its gaping maw didn’t stop roaring, consumed by visceral hatred.

Organs flew through the air, staining the green grass—an arm landed near my feet.

I curled up
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