Sunday, 2 September 2018


by Susan Moffat

Trees, mud, branches. A howl. Sprinting paws, panting. Hurried breaths, pounding chest. A growl. Heavy paws, gnashing teeth, warm blood. Disembodied screams. A gunshot. Darkness.

Anna awoke wrapped in blood-stained bindings. Monitors beeped, tracing her heart rate. Her heavy hands peeled back the bandage. Three deep scratches scored her arm. Groaning, she stared out of the window, and the moon stared back, full and round. Her heart beat beeped faster.

Flesh itching, hairs ripped through skin. Scream stretching to howl as a snout shattered out through her skull. Nurse bursting in. Anna pouncing. Sharp claws, flashing teeth, warm blood. Screams.

Author bio: Susi J Smith has been writing for over ten years and enjoys writing short stories and flash fiction. She is also a member of a local writing group. Susi has previously been published in, Zeroflash, and McStorrytellers. For more information, follow her on Twitter: @susi_moff or check out her Facebook page:

Tag is part of 101 Fiction issue 20.

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