Hello. I would like to tell you my story. My name does not matter just what I have to say. When I am done, I am sure you will agree.
The moon was full the night my story truly begins. I had decided that I should walk home instead of calling a taxi. All was well until I made it about half way. As I passed a nondescript house on a nondescript street, I heard a woman scream. Nobility was never my thing. The scream was unlike any scream I have ever heard before. It was primal. I cannot describe the energy. However, it was also a painful scream. It was clear that something very wrong was happening. When I went to investigate I found a rather large thing, and this rather large thing was eating the leg of a woman who was more likely dead from blood loss lying in a corner, as if a shirt tossed over there. The thing was a beast. It had a massive build, and appeared to be a half dog half-human monster. It was on top of me before I had a chance. As it sat on my chest and sniffed me, I prayed to God. I prayed for my loved ones. I prayed for salvation. Teeth tore into my shoulder and a quick jerk released a gob of me free from me. I prayed once again. This time I prayed for only a quick death. As the world began to fade, I heard a gunshot.
The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital three days later. My shoulder is infected and I cannot use my left arm at all. My beautiful wife believes me when everybody tells me rabid dogs attacked me and the woman and I insist it was something else entirely. By the by, they never found her leg. Alicia, my wife, was there when I woke up and there she stayed for the next week as the infection spread throughout my body. I can say with all sincerity that I do not recommend having your shoulder eaten. Nevertheless, I digress. A week of pain and anguish that was previously unimaginable. My Alicia was there for all of it. The temperatures that promised to kill me, the infection and its fast-paced spread. The bleeding. She was there when I died.
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