The Beast was slowly heading south, following both its instinct and a tantalizing aroma that was still too faint for it to recognize. It reached the outskirts of the Dismal Marsh, where Albert and the Sheriff had been hunting days earlier. It was here the smell it had been following crystallized in its memory.

"An Angel!" It cried out, "There has been an Angel here."

The Beast's eyes widened and saliva began to pour off its fangs in buckets. It's entire body began quivering in a combination of rage and anticipation. Even as all these conflicting emotions ran rampant through its being, the Beast's ears perked up as a muddled string of sounds intruded on its discovery of the Angel's stench.

It heard the voices of hunters in the woods and a malevolent smile crossed its ageless lips. "Come my children," it thought, "come play with me." The creature raised itself on its hind legs and moved purposefully toward the marsh in the distance.

"George!" Lee yelled, "look at this."

George Travers came running over to where Brent stood pointing. There was an eight-foot path crushed into the forest.

"Mother of god," Travers exclaimed, swallowed hard and continued, "He's on the run. If this is a bear, he's the granddaddy of them all. Let's get this murderin' bastard!."

"Yeah," the ten men behind him chimed in chorus as they followed George down the trail that the beast had made.

"George?" Farley Grant, the town mechanic asked meekly.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"How come there ain't no tracks? This thing's rippin' out trees. It's gotta' weigh a goddamn ton at least. How come it ain't leavin' no tracks?"

"Hell, Farley, I don't know. Maybe it's movin' too fast. Maybe there's too much ground cover. It don't matter. It's headin' for the swamp, and it won't be able to move near as fast through there."

"Nor you, my son," the beast whispered darkly into the breeze. The craving was boiling its blood now as it lumbered deep into the sucking bog. It could feel all sense leave its frame as the saliva began to rain in buckets from his mouth. The Beast hid itself as best it could in the reeds, breathing heavily in anticipation as its prey slowly approached.

"This sucks," Lee Brandt complained as his boots were pulled by the foot-deep mud of the swamp.

"Keep it down," George hissed in a loud whisper, "and keep your guns ready. We're close, I can feel it."

The hunting party drew its weapons close and to the ready. Slowly they fanned out and worked their way deeper into the swamp.

The Beast could smell the men's fear, and it was thrilled.  When the hunters rounded the knoll where the creature was crouched, it knew the time had come. Slowly it stood, raising to its full height, arms above its head.

"Your time on earth is done," it hissed.

The men froze.

"What the hell is that?" screamed Lee Brandt.

"It fuckin' talks!" another man shrieked.

"Shut up and shoot," George yelled, but the command was unnecessary, as a volley of shots fired into the beast.

The creature laughed, and then its smile turned into a snarl of pure evil. It lunged forward, ripping flesh with its great talons and crushing bone with its massive jaws. The remaining men panicked and turned, trying helplessly to run through the sucking bog. The Beast moved without effort from one hunter to the next, leaving shredded, torn dolls where breathing men had been.

Lee Brandt tried hiding. He was quivering and crying in the reeds when the Beast found him. A single talon entered below his navel and split his body like an ax, ending the shaking man's agony.

Farley had gotten the farthest by starting to run as soon as the Beast stood. He almost made it to solid ground when a great hand encompassed his head and squeezed. There was a pop. When Farley was released, there was a misshapen lump on his shoulders where his head had been.

The creature saved George for last. He was defiant, firing his rifle even as the demon approached him. When he finally saw the Beast clearly for the first time he stumbled back in horror, falling backward on to the ground.

It stood a full nine feet tall and in silhouette did, in fact, resemble a large grizzly standing on it haunches. That was where the resemblance ended. It's arms were abnormally long for it's size, nearly reaching the ground and capped with six inch long talons on each of the four knobby fingers which comprised the Beast's hands.

Its skin appeared leathery and hairless, a pale olive color covered in dull red pustules that appeared ready to burst. It was naked and where George expected to see genitalia was a cluster of short tentacles which squirmed like a mass of worms. As horrifying as the monster's general appearance was, it was its head which left George frozen in terror.

The shape of the Beast's skull was similar to a crocodile, squat, but with a far shorter snout curled in a gruesome grimace enhanced by the deadly fangs which extended from the top and bottom of its mouth. Pieces of flesh dangled from between the creature's teeth. A yellow drool dripped from its yaw to the ground and smoldered, burning the leaves onto which it dripped. The skin of its face was the same dull green with clusters of the pustules beneath its oddly beautiful violet eyes. Throbbing veins pulsed beneath the hollow of the Beast's cheeks. It's head was crowned in short corkscrew-shaped horns which extended foreword.

"Little man," said the creature as it delicately lifted George out of the swamp, "you shall be the tastiest of all."

George shivered uncontrollably, too frightened to make a sound. He stared deeply into the monster's eyes. The Beast opened its mouth, but rather than strike, it shot its corrosive vomit out in a forceful burst, covering George, whose skin began to blister and dissolve almost immediately. It dropped him to the ground as he finally began to scream and watched in fascination as he squirmed and struggled. Only when what was left of George stopped moving, did it begin to eat.

The creature surveyed the swamp. There were hundreds of pieces of the eleven men scattered all across the reeds. It inhaled deeply, enjoying the odor of blood.

Abruptly the Beast's features changed from satisfaction to frenzied rage as its nostrils again detected that familiar aroma, that hated smell from the past. The creature threw its head back in primal fury and roared.

"I will find you, Angel! I will grind you to dust!"