Fosco did not stop slamming his big
Copper-colored luggage until he was
Sure the monster would not get back up.
Green slime and sweat all over his face
Fosco looked up at the stoned-terror
Faced stragglers who failed to make it
Out of the airport lobby in time.
“I’m sticking with him,” a teen girl said,
Pointing to Fosco and jumping right
Behind him as more beasts crossed through the
Shattered windows. “We gotta get some
Place safe, with walls and doors,” a man with
Slick black hair proclaimed. Fosco wiped the
Green slime from his forehead and said, “This
Way.” The teen girl behind him bent down
And picked up one of the fangs from the
Monsters smashed head, slipping it into
Her pocket as she followed Fosco
And the other nine survivors up
The escalator “Stay close,” he said.
He wielded his luggage like it was
A holy blade that only he was
Worthy of possessing—compelling.
A beast with horns along its spine jumped
In front of them. Fosco sprang up quick,
Uppercutting it with his suitcase.
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