Aston hobbled toward the mangled body of the hairless creature, its once sleek form now a canvas of torment. Deep wounds crisscrossed its flesh, creating a macabre tapestry of agony. The most grievous injury adorned the side of its neck—a gaping wound that exposed raw, pulsating tissue beneath. The creature's feeble movements betrayed its fading vitality, each labored gasp a testament to its dwindling breath.
As Aston drew closer, a twisted smile etched itself upon his face, an unsettling amalgamation of triumph and sadistic pleasure. His own body bore the scars of the violent clash, a testament to the brutal dance they had engaged in. Deep gashes marred his skin, serving as crimson reminders of the ferocity of their struggle. Blood, both his own and the creature's, painted his body in a grotesque tableau of violence.
