I feel a surge of fear rise up my spine as I stare up into eyes as wide and black as the universe. Thick, brown ooze drips from its massive mouth onto my mask, causing it to sizzle and steam as the sylvia's acid slowly erodes it. A little voice in the back of my mind screams at me to shoot its weak point, their exo-heart, but my arms are pinned to the ground by its extreme body weight. If my mind wasn’t completely clouded over with fear, I would’ve simply ripped my arms out from under its body and proceeded with the action of shooting it. I feel like the runt of a herd of sheep who has met its fate of being killed by the wolf.
The Frol seems to notice that I wasn’t about to make a move, and its eyes droop, as if it’s bored. Was I seriously so easy of a target that I was boring the Frol? My train of thought is broken when the Frol crouches down on me even more, so much to where I couldn’t see it any more because of the condensation on my mask its breath gen