A mass of white flesh veins burst from within the ghast, whipping out in every direction like tendrils or whips. Everyone, due to Lukas' shout and his and Cary's subsequent fleeing, ran away from it. Those who were unable to flee in time were injured, many gravely, but not fatally so.
Those hit by the tendrils were immediately knocked unconscious, regardless of how terrible the injury was. From Lukas' vague recollection of being hit by one himself, it was as if the fatigue worsened dramatically upon being hit by it. Almost like an injection of sorts.
The ghast, free from its attackers, finally stood once more. Its visage was far more menacing with its body sprouting hundreds of tendrils made of white flesh and one of its heads lifeless and bleeding. Its two remaining eyes looked around in fury as its mouth roared in anger, frustration, and no doubt some amount of pain.
