[@Griffintaur]

[i]Surprisingly, Grif's inquiry was answered, though not with words. It was a reverberating cackle in uncontained pitch, a baby's swooping wails mingled with the hitching yowls of a cat, slowed down to an almost painful stretch and of rasping tone as if emanating from within a shitty transistor radio. In the monster's experience, at this point most men would have already soiled their drawers in fear. The sound felt like it was everywhere at once. It seemed as if monster was laughing inside of Grif's own brain, the sound somehow permeating consciousness itself. There was no need for interpretation. Like the premonition of its appearance, this facet of the creature also seemed to operate on transcendental wavelengths. The meaning was certain. It was going to do its darndest to show Grif that Hell was just a phrase and a symbol, and a paltry one at that. 

The monster abruptly bolted around towards whichever flank Grif had his head perked towards, attempting to weave into his line of sight. Its acceleration was incredible, tearing from 0 to 25 mph during the single second it needed to close the distance of twenty meters between them. As Grif was trying to keep the barest outline of its form in the corner of his eye, it'd be exceedingly difficult to keep from seeing it in full with so little warning. Its eyes were wide open, bulging nearly out of its rubbery face, and if Grif looked he'd see that it had the same eyes as he did, the same color and familiar intelligence, only grotesquely enlarged and phosphorescent in the darkness, full to brimming with terrible emotion.[/i]