The nine cords dangled, frayed and stained with the indigo blood of battles past, glistening shards of broken crab shells woven throughout. Trapper grimaced in pain from the wound on his back and brandished his weapon before the approaching creature.

The crab feinted to the left; it leapt onto one of the building’s support beams with the speed of a vengeful typhoon. Crawling adroitly across the ceiling, over Trapper’s head, it sprang onto a table behind him and lobbed an empty beer bottle at the base of his skull.

Trapper was one move ahead of the monster. He sidestepped the projectile and brought his flail down hard upon the table, which collapsed in a heap.

The crab was unharmed. It emerged at Trapper’s feet and, before the man could react, latched onto his leg and began climbing up beneath his trousers.

Thinking fast, Trapper dashed his own leg with the weapon and the crab shell was obliterated. The unprotected slug within fell to the floor, slimy and pathetic.

Trapper squished it dead with his boot.