The scorpion, its fury and pain reaching a fever pitch, unleashed a piercing screech that echoed through the cavern like a banshee's wail.
Its body, wracked with violent spasms, thrashed and jerked against the unforgiving ground, its movements erratic and unpredictable.
The creature seemed possessed, its exoskeleton glistening with venomous rage as it fought against the pain, its claws and mandibles snapping and gnashing in a frenzy of unstoppable fury.
Haze, his senses heightened by adrenaline and desperation, spotted the scorpion's momentary distraction and seized the opportunity.
With a burst of agility and speed that belied his exhaustion, Haze sprang to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest as he raced towards the scorpion.
His feet pounded against the rocky ground, his breath ragged and desperate, his sword gripped tightly in his hand as he closed the distance between him and his foe.
