Lunch

This is some pretty experimental rhyming horror that I wrote a while back.

     The hallway goes ever on. You wish you were gone. The lights flicker off. You scoff. A door opens far into the void. The being is humanoid. It has a vicious form. Like a solid storm. It dashes forward. You thrust backward. Your back is turned. If only you had learned. Never turn your back on darkness. The gap between you becomes quite less. It reaches out with one jagged claw. It pulls you to its maw. Razor fangs embed. They crush into your head. Crimson oozes. Skin bruises. Bones crunch. You're lunch.