Two Eyes Cenote Rattlesnake

The dog's thin frame pressed heavily against the rough-hewn floor, tears sopping into the shaggy fur of his forelimbs as they wrapped tightly around his head. He made little noise save for the ragged, desperate gasps for breath that rasped painfully in his throat, and the scuffling of his hind paws as they pushed him further into the wall opposite Eset, as though if he pushed hard enough, he would meld with the stone.

Above him, a fly buzzed around, its delicate wings creating a soft, persistent hum. It flitted erratically through the stale air, its tiny body darting from one spot to another, oblivious to the turmoil below. The fly’s presence seemed almost absurd in its innocence, a stark contrast to the palpable fear radiating from the disgusting animal.

Kill it, he managed to choke out, his voice a thin, broken thread of sound, barely more than a whisper. His ears smashed tightly against his skull. Please, came the pathetic sob. A wretched sight, a pathetic creature consumed in his own mind.

The buzzing grew faint for a moment, allowing him a trembling peek from under the safety of his arms. The insect continued its lazy circuit, landing briefly on the damp fur of his forelimbs, its tiny legs a mere tickle against his skin before it took off again, drawn to some unseen interest. Its presence, insignificant in any other context, sent the dog careening from his hiding place.

One slender arm shot through the gap between stones where Eset stood, nails etching horrible grooves into the porous rock, as his head tried to force itself through after.