The beast grinned menacingly at Arcturus' posturing, baring its flesh-rending teeth while letting out a ragged, guttural sound that, with some imagination, sounded something like a dog trying to laugh like a man, kicking away the remnants of the door to step further into the room of sleeping Hunters with great lumbering strides.
Behind the large creature other forms were crowding the now-open doorway, though these were far from as intimidating as the Hunters' first two adversaries; in fact they just looked like men for most part, clad in normal citizens' clothes and, unlike the eager beasts the Hunters had already had to contend with, seemed hesitant to actually attack. One man looking in was armed with a pitchfork while the other brandished a hatchet. Both stayed just on the outside of the doorway, merely peeking in from either side.

“Are they really Hunters?” the one on the left remarked, looking over the room in disbelief. “They look so... normal.”
“Of course they are,” the other replied, seemingly taken aback by his companion's doubt. “Look, they even killed the echo.”

[I]Ding-ding[/I]...

Barely had the rioting Yharnamite spoken the words before the bell from before rang again, the same two distinct tolls as the other times and with the same unnatural reverberation to the sound, as if it was not just one bell in one place, but countless bells being heard from worlds away. The beast stopped moving at the sound, its expression turning uncertain and almost fearful as it took a step backwards, slowly raising its weapons as if to shield itself from an unseen threat.
As the sound of the bell faded, another sound could be heard from the corpse of the Mad One; a sound like violently grinding bones. The sound lasted merely a second before its cause became clear: in an instant the Mad One's head seemed to seamlessly mend itself, with the red light returning to the creature's eyes and a ragged breath being drawn into its lungs. At the same time the leg it had lost [I]reemerged[/I]; it would give the wrong impression to say that it grew back, because the process was so spontaneous and instant that it seemed more as though a fully formed leg was already within the Mad One, just waiting to explosively shoot out of its stump.

With a whine full of hatred and hunger, the Mad One stood back up.