My story, Mystery

Quintin stopped still. Before him was a ledge that fell several stories. Behind him was the werewolf pack. Anton, the leader, had spattered blood on him and he knew they would not stop until his blood joined that spatter. Then he heard a sound from above. It was Quackzitoon, the reptilian flying monster that the villagers sacrificed their children to, and who looked hungry. If he could turn the attention of either attacker to the other, he might have a chance. He turned to see the gleaming eyes of the pack coming near. The growling was low, menacing. Over his head he heard the sound of the lizard, it sounded almost metallic, like a fender electric guitar being ripped asunder. Suddenly there was a snapping behind him. He glanced back to see Azenda, the colossal stone giant who had only the night before devoured a screaming family in the lower valley. He stood, 40 feet tall, at the edge of the cliff. Quintin suddenly realized he was going to die. Damn. I wish I wrote better.