Work Text:
It stalked the player from afar, hidden amongst the trees, mouth open wider than ever thought possible.
Its white eyes pierced through the black of the night.
It was waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
A low whistle echoes through the trees.
Turn around, it begged silently
Turn around, little player.
And when they did.
The world went red.
It charged.
And the player.
The player was torn apart.