I can't see. I don't know if that's because it's dark or not, but my cheeks feel sticky and I try not to think about that. I can hear the dripping but I try not to. It's not even that loud, it's just that it's so close. Julie's anguished moans turned to quiet sobbing a little while ago. Now I hear nothing but the dripping. I know it's her blood. I can feel it pooling underneath me, congealing into a sticky mess in my hair. The stump of my left knee stopped hurting almost as soon as the leg had been torn off. Shock, I guess. I don't know how long I was out afterward, but now I'm awake and I've been lying here, bleeding, too afraid to move. I don't know how I'm still alive or why.
I don't know if he's still here. If "he" is even the right word. It. I don't know if it is still here. I'm straining my ears to listen for signs of it when Julie screams again. Just once. Loud and piercing and full of so much pain it hurts me to listen to it. When it trails off she takes a single ragged breath and as it slowly leaks back out of her, I know she's dead.
The very next sound I hear is… oh god, is it eating her? I didn't even see a mouth. Didn't know it could eat. A rhythmic, wet, sucking sound. A blob of something I try not to think about falls on my face, splattering so liquidly I feel my stomach clench and my bile rise.
One of its hands closes over my face just as the vomit hits the back of my teeth. It spews out around the thing's fingers as I'm lifted bodily into the air. Hanging limply, cheeks and chin dripping with ichor, and bile, and God only know what else, I'm slung backwards. I feel it press itself up against the back of my head and have just enough time for my mind to wildly picture my head as a giant Granny Smith apple when I actually hear the crunch, so loud and sharp, and then…