As the light pierced through the darkness, the creature's eyes flared with sudden awareness and fear.
With a jarring twist, the talon that had been embedded in Mary's shoulder tore free, ripping through flesh and muscle in a savage burst.
The nearby screechers recoiled, their pained, horizontal-flickering eyes reflecting the raw pain caused by light as they staggered back.
Mary stumbled, her balance faltering as blood streamed down her arm.
The wound pulsed with a searing pain that threatened to overwhelm her, but stopping was not an option.
Drawing a shuddering breath, she tightened her grip on the cutlass, her knuckles turning a ghostly white from the strain. The blade was slick with a grim mix of her own blood and that of the creatures, but she raised it, ready to press on.
The screechers, instead of their usual high-frequency cries, fell into a chilling order.
