When the thing finally stepped into the light, my heart skipped a beat. Since we began tracking the monster, I had wondered what sort of man or beast had left such a trail of debauched gore. It squealed, raising its high voice in mindless hate. Gigantic, its tusks dripping with blood, the pig-man leaned into a sprint. We all opened fire. The shouts of shotguns, rifles, and pistols filled the night, and the sharp smell of gunpowder rose over the stench of the decayed corpses. Under our barrage it still managed to gore Brian, falling on him in its last throws. They’ll take him ahead, with this letter, trying to get him to hospital in time. I do not think he will live. I’ll be following behind with the body of the thing. It will be mostly me and the natives. We’ll be moving slower without the truck. I find myself staring into the eye of the pig-man as I scribble out this note to you. There seems, even now, something malevolent in its gaze.
Virpig Hunt
Tale Told 