Were the beast a smart creature it would have seen John's bluff. It would have prepared itself for a last gasp.
It was a being of rage, malice and hunger. With slow and purposeful steps it padded towards John with resonating thuds, approaching as a cat would captured prey. Savouring the anticipation of cruel and drawn out agony, the thrill of killing and consuming a fallen and helpless prey.
It placed a leg either side of him, one crunching down on his arm with bone splintering force. It's grotesque and golden face glowered over the man as its hauntingly deep and black void eyes gazed down on him with a hungry contempt. It emitted a low growling, chittering sound as it reared up for one final lunge...