Devil Eyes

Tony stared at his blank page and sighed. Writer’s block always frustrated him, but this time he could barely write an engaging sentence.

It was midnight, and-

And what? The clock struck twelve, and he finished his drink and debated whether to quit for the night. One more couldn’t hurt, he decided, and prepared another glass.

-and torrential rain was bucketing from the sky like pelting arrows. A bedraggled man sprinted down the street, stumbling painfully on a sprained ankle. Every few seconds he frantically looked behind him, and with an expression of pure terror, raced on, panting exhaustedly. He-

Usual horror rubbish, he thought. Nobody’s going to want to read the same old storyline. Having finished his drink, he decided to venture to the kitchen for some biscuits in case any inspiration hit upon him in the process. Nothing did, and he stared wistfully out the window.
“Looks like we’re in for a rough night,” he commented to his dog. “Out there we’ve got a storm the likes of which I haven’t seen in years.”

-saw a lit house, and staggered towards it. He hammered furiously on the door, then turned, and saw his pursuer a little way up the street, its Mephistophelian eyes shining in the excitement of the chase.

“That’s odd,” Tony said, getting up to answer the door. “We don’t usually have callers at this time of night, old boy.”
He opened the door to the sight of a man collapsing to the ground, quite obviously dead. Behind it stood a horrific creature, its devilish eyes glowing brightly at the sight of its next victim.