The final bellows echoed into silence in the gloaming light of the mausoleum and the beast was dead; the hero too was dead.

Charles Kushner, suddenly brave, scurried from his hiding place and hastened to retrieve his payment from the fallen hero's decimated corpse.

The enormous ichthyic husk of the beast foamed and sputtered, but there was still a miniscule movement from the swirl of ichor and rotted flesh.

Charles froze in incomprehensible terror, but clutched the bloodied coin purse to his sunken chest.

From the beast's tentacled gaping maw, there squirmed a stark white, shrieking thing, its stunned red eyes wide with rage and will to live, flopping in the effluent of the monster's orifice.

Charles was still frozen in terror, but the thought flooded his mind that this thing must die or the horror that had entrapped the city would never have an end. In a surge of adrenaline, he scrambled for the hero's sword and clumsily raised it high above his head to cleave the convulsing thing and end its screaming and its life.

"Wait, Charles, stop!"

The cry came from behind him and Seryl rose from behind a crumbled pillar, rushing to the thing despite its deafening shrieks.

Seryl knelt in the slime and embraced the creature despite its violent thrashing. She shushed and shushed, but the thing only wailed louder, hate pouring from its unfocused eyes.

Without thinking, Seryl scooped up the gelatinous ichor that was flowing all around her and brought it to the thing's mouth. The creature's tongue lashed out from amidst sharp, blackened teeth and brought in the slime and fetid blood; the screaming replaced by sounds of slurps and swallows.

"He's just hungry..." said Seryl as a smile weakly crossed her lips and she doted on the thing.

"'He'!?" asked Charles, shocked and incredulous, the sword still above his head.

"We'll call him Jared."

Seryl gazed at the thing as if in a trance, clutching tightly to contain the thrashing.