This is my first shot at Flash Fiction. Let me know what you think…
She’s lying in a pool of blood, life simultaneously gathering and fleeing from her, and she can’t help blaming herself.
Her nails dig into the hard floor and she feels the broken bones in her body scream. The ferric scent of finality assaults her, much as he has, and she prays to a God she doesn’t believe in for vengeance on the monster standing over her.
Then it comes; ripping, tearing, shouting violence and the sickening crunch of death.
A cold, wet nose presses into her face.
Rescuing the dog was his idea. Caring for it was hers.