blocks, going from stationary to full speed in the blink of an eye.
Ducking into the living room, she slammed the door. Owen thudded against it from the other side. Again. Again. The force of the impact shook the walls and Leanne stumbled backwards as the door's hinges gave way with a KER-ACK .
She turned, but there was nowhere to go, no other way out. Owen lumbered into the room, like he wasn't quite sure what he was doing there. The sight of Leanne seemed to jog his memory, though. The face drew up into a snarl once more and he hurled himself towards her, arms reaching, fingers curled up like claws.
Leanne grabbed the glass ashtray from the coffee table and swung. It hit Owen on the temple with a sickening thonk . He staggered, thrown off balance, purple-red blood already flooding his right eye.
It took just a second for him to recover. He pounced, moving too quickly this time. His fingernails dug into Leanne's forehead and cheeks and his weight brought her crashing down, his naked body pinning her to the floor.
“S-stop!” she squealed. A hand was drawn away. She glanced up and—
BANG! His fist smashed against her face, splitting open her cheek and snapping her head to the left.
Owen roared and spat like a demented animal, but the sudden rushing sound in her ears all but drowned him out. She coughed and a trickle of vomit spilled out onto the carpet.
The floor rolled beneath her like the deck of a boat, and shadows rushed in to fill her field of vision. The stink of Owen's sweat flooded her nostrils and smothered her lungs as he pressed down on her. She could only sob as his thumbs pressed against her eye sockets and the darkness was replaced by a rainbow of swirling colors.
“What the fuck?”
Dagan .
Owen hissed and Leanne felt his weight spring off her.
“Owen? What are you—?”
There was a crash and a sharp yelp of pain. Leanne dragged herself backwards across the carpet, the blaze of color fading from her vision.
She saw Dagan swing a punch at Owen. It cracked across his jaw, but Owen didn't flinch. He caught Dagan by the hair and pulled back suddenly, bending him backwards. Owen's fist struck like a hammer in the center of Dagan's face. Once. Twice.
Dagan's howl burst in a bubble of blood on his lips. He held up his arms to shield himself, but Owen's teeth snapped down on his flesh, tearing free a chunk of skin and sinew.
With a triumphant cry, Owen turned towards the window. He charged forwards, Dagan held in front of him like a toy.
“N-no!” Leanne yelped, suddenly realising what was going to happen next. “No, no, don't!”
The window erupted outwards as Owen forced Dagan backwards through the glass. For one frantic fleeting moment Dagan seemed to hang there in space, his eyes wide, his face a mangled mess of blood and snot.
And then, like that, he was gone.
Owen stood by the broken frame, his back to the room, chewing noisily on the chunk of meat in his mouth. Leanne looked to the door on the other side of the room. Could she make it? Owen seemed to have forgotten about her again. Maybe if she was quiet…
Supporting herself on the wall, she stood up. The ashtray was still in her hand. She held it out like a shield and began to back towards the door.
Owen stopped chewing. He cocked his head, like a dog listening to some distant sound, and Leanne knew in that moment she would never get away. He'd catch her before she even reached the hall. There was only one choice left.
She closed the gap in four quick paces, the ashtray raised above her head. Owen spun, but by then she was swinging, bringing the heavy chunk of glass down, down, down with all her might.
It caught Owen higher this time, just above where she'd hit him before. He buckled awkwardly, like a puppet whose strings had all been cut. His hands grasped limply at Leanne, but she hammered down with the ashtray again.
Owen stumbled. He hit the gaping wound where the window had been and for a heart-stopping moment just stood
Ducking into the living room, she slammed the door. Owen thudded against it from the other side. Again. Again. The force of the impact shook the walls and Leanne stumbled backwards as the door's hinges gave way with a KER-ACK .
She turned, but there was nowhere to go, no other way out. Owen lumbered into the room, like he wasn't quite sure what he was doing there. The sight of Leanne seemed to jog his memory, though. The face drew up into a snarl once more and he hurled himself towards her, arms reaching, fingers curled up like claws.
Leanne grabbed the glass ashtray from the coffee table and swung. It hit Owen on the temple with a sickening thonk . He staggered, thrown off balance, purple-red blood already flooding his right eye.
It took just a second for him to recover. He pounced, moving too quickly this time. His fingernails dug into Leanne's forehead and cheeks and his weight brought her crashing down, his naked body pinning her to the floor.
“S-stop!” she squealed. A hand was drawn away. She glanced up and—
BANG! His fist smashed against her face, splitting open her cheek and snapping her head to the left.
Owen roared and spat like a demented animal, but the sudden rushing sound in her ears all but drowned him out. She coughed and a trickle of vomit spilled out onto the carpet.
The floor rolled beneath her like the deck of a boat, and shadows rushed in to fill her field of vision. The stink of Owen's sweat flooded her nostrils and smothered her lungs as he pressed down on her. She could only sob as his thumbs pressed against her eye sockets and the darkness was replaced by a rainbow of swirling colors.
“What the fuck?”
Dagan .
Owen hissed and Leanne felt his weight spring off her.
“Owen? What are you—?”
There was a crash and a sharp yelp of pain. Leanne dragged herself backwards across the carpet, the blaze of color fading from her vision.
She saw Dagan swing a punch at Owen. It cracked across his jaw, but Owen didn't flinch. He caught Dagan by the hair and pulled back suddenly, bending him backwards. Owen's fist struck like a hammer in the center of Dagan's face. Once. Twice.
Dagan's howl burst in a bubble of blood on his lips. He held up his arms to shield himself, but Owen's teeth snapped down on his flesh, tearing free a chunk of skin and sinew.
With a triumphant cry, Owen turned towards the window. He charged forwards, Dagan held in front of him like a toy.
“N-no!” Leanne yelped, suddenly realising what was going to happen next. “No, no, don't!”
The window erupted outwards as Owen forced Dagan backwards through the glass. For one frantic fleeting moment Dagan seemed to hang there in space, his eyes wide, his face a mangled mess of blood and snot.
And then, like that, he was gone.
Owen stood by the broken frame, his back to the room, chewing noisily on the chunk of meat in his mouth. Leanne looked to the door on the other side of the room. Could she make it? Owen seemed to have forgotten about her again. Maybe if she was quiet…
Supporting herself on the wall, she stood up. The ashtray was still in her hand. She held it out like a shield and began to back towards the door.
Owen stopped chewing. He cocked his head, like a dog listening to some distant sound, and Leanne knew in that moment she would never get away. He'd catch her before she even reached the hall. There was only one choice left.
She closed the gap in four quick paces, the ashtray raised above her head. Owen spun, but by then she was swinging, bringing the heavy chunk of glass down, down, down with all her might.
It caught Owen higher this time, just above where she'd hit him before. He buckled awkwardly, like a puppet whose strings had all been cut. His hands grasped limply at Leanne, but she hammered down with the ashtray again.
Owen stumbled. He hit the gaping wound where the window had been and for a heart-stopping moment just stood
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