The hunt=ME=Moir OUT-LAUwd Pro*seenD'ures

The most revolting Shell of life I had ever seen leered back at me, posing as a sheep. Sickly, green-gray, strips of flesh hung from the face, showing bone in some spots. Its nose was beaten in concave, a bloodied mess, crumpled into a snarl. The lips, mostly shorn away, revealed puny pink teeth. I noted teeny bumps upon them, soon realizing each three-edged tooth was composed of loose, wriggling maggots. Behind the “teeth,” lay something spindly with lank tufts of black hair, stained by some red paste being mushed around inside its mouth. Fuzzy gum stretched from roof to jaw like great pillars of saliva.

I followed the sopping mess to the side of its cheek, (which was split open). It wound right on through the gutted jaw and attached at the top, to one side of its head. A mutant, foot-long, black ear. That’s what it was. Yet the other one was only size and shape of your average sauce packet, the peak of which bore a brown dot the size of a pea.