First Kill

Ares pressed himself against the cold stone, breath shallow. The cave was silent—except for the faint scrape of claws on rock. It was stalking him.His arm throbbed. His ribs burned.Then—movement.
A rush of air. Something lunged.
Ares barely turned before blinding pain exploded in his arm.
Teeth.
The thing had bitten him. He screamed, instinctively twisting away. But the creature was strong—too strong. It snarled, jerking its head like a wolf tearing flesh from bone.Ares felt something snap.
Adrenaline surged. He punched wildly, his fist glancing off something hard—its skull? It didn’t flinch. His vision blurred from the pain. He had to get it off.His hand scrambled across the ground. Rock. Stone. Bones—none of them sharp enough.
The creature tightened its grip.Do something. Now.
His fingers brushed something. A broken shard of stone.He grabbed it and swung.The rock sank deep.A shudder. A wet, strangled hiss.But it didn’t let go.
Ares stabbed again. Again. Again.
The cave echoed with ragged gasps, gurgling breath.Then—the pressure on his arm loosened.The body collapsed.Ares pushed it away, rolling onto his back, gasping for air.
His arm throbbed—hot, wet, and shaking. His ribs screamed. His head swam.
He lay there, staring at the darkness above, heart hammering.It’s dead.
His hands trembled."I almost was too."