Iyisha held her breath as the hunter leaned over the painting, its face inches from the canvas. Its head jerked in sharp, mechanical twitches while it clicked fast, wet, and relentless. The sounds ricocheted through the narrow hallway like living things, mapping every inch of the object.
Each echo brushed across her skin, cold and intimate.
It looked up and twitched its head as it moved forward.
She could feel the creature reading the walls, the floorboards, the dust floating in the stale air, and the trembling outline of her body pressed against the plaster. Her pistol trembled in both hands, fingers slowly going numb around the grip.
One shift. One careless breath. That was all it would take.
The hunter lifted its pale, elongated head and scuttled farther down the corridor on all fours, still clicking, still painting the darkness with sound. Its long limbs moved with eerie, spider like precision.
Move, she screamed at herself. Do something. Anything.
