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The dismal street had been recently swept by a violent wind. Tom had felt the urgency to run and get away from the intimidating street. He saw a shadow in the corner of his eye; he was certain that he knew what it was, without a doubt he ran with such fear for the creature had started to chase him.

He saw a man nearby, he hoped that he was the one who was going to save from this cruel fate; 'help, help me please!' he yelled but the man took no notice and carried on walking down the street. Tom was so absent that he forgot about the creature; it was so close to him that he could feel its hot breath upon his neck. Sweat was running from his forehead into his chest.

He was doomed; the creature which only existed in myths and in his mind had come to life and was chasing him down the street where he once killed. He knew that this was revenge for all the people he had killed. He had once tried to stop it but it was as if he was on heroin; he was addicted. He knew that he was going to die and that a painful death was just behind him; he thought over this relentlessly would he or could he look on the face of his killer to be. He summoned enough courage to take a glance. it was nothing like he had seen in his life; the eye on his forehead had been watering as if it knew what it was going to do, the foul stench of the beast's musky fur had brought Tom back to his senses but it was too late. He heard a deafening roar and fell face first towards the hard concrete floor.