Bar fight

It wasn't uncommon to be hearing the sounds of fist on skin as you walked past the Riverside Saloon in the late summertime. Wooden chairs and tables being broken and thrown against walls, shouting and cheering as the patrons excitedly clamored over each other to get the best view of the fight. Glass breaking, beer spilling, and every once in a while there was the loud and final bang of a gunshot, ending the fight with a certain certainty that couldn't be matched by any other sound.

But what it was not common to hear was screaming, as the patrons clamored over each other not to see, but to flee. It was not only uncommon, but unheard of, to see the patrons piling out of the swinging doors to the bar, running as hard as they could in a desperate attempt to get away. Even the barkeeper was among them, discarding his own place of business in his terror of what was going on inside of the small building that was so frequently home to fights.

Arnor approached the building as the others were running away, unsure of what was going on inside. That there was something that might occur that would be so terrifying to people... He had to know what it was. He approached the door as the last of the patrons walked out, his hand resting on the pistol at his hip. He paused for just a moment - not afraid, but listening. Listening to the pounding of fists on the inside. Hearing how it just wasn't quite right.

He pushed the door open slowly with his off hand to see what was inside. On broken tables, up against blood spattered walls, and all over the counter, broken and battered bodies were piled up, torn apart and spilling all over the floor. In the center of the bar was a massive black form, hardly able to be described as remotely human like. One arm was massively out of proportion to the other, and in it the creature was hoisting a screaming body up, before crushing the man's midsection between its teeth.

The pistol was out of its holster and in Arnor's hand within an instant, and the trigger was pulled before he knew what he was doing. The monster's head snapped with how quickly it turned to face him, the bullet falling uselessly to the ground. It was abruptly obvious why the people had been running so quickly away. This was no fight that a human could win.

Arnor turned hard on his heel and sprinted for the day. He heard only two steps behind him before his feet were no longer touching the ground. That giant fist was wrapped around his waist, lifting him up towards the monstrous face with razor sharp teeth that so easily tore flesh from bone. It turned him, making him look it in the face. He watched its eyes fixate on him, staring through him as though it were to tear him apart with just a glance. He felt his soul trying to run from his body, like it couldn't stand to be a part of him.

And then he saw the massive jaw open.