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I was going to stop over, it was on the way............................but life got in the way.
I was going to bring you flowers, wasn't much to pay........but life got in the way.
I was going to take you to dinner, then go see a play........but life got in the way.
I was going to say I love you, it isn't hard to say...................but life got in the way.
I wish I didn't have to say death has come to stay..............--------------------------
It came as my punishment for the way.....................................My life got in the way!

The floorboards are swarmed in a grotesque mixture of biological ooze and rotted beer.

The small creature - it's hard, reptilian skin, the green, acidic liquid dripping from it's mouth.

Drip...Drip...

He's standing on top of a table. The wood is riddled with bullets; but the creature himself had not seemed harmed.

His wounds oozed with a green liquid, as the gaping holes in his body filled themselves together, the beast's intestines reforging themselves before his very eyes.

The wooden door at the entrance had been locked shut in an event to escape the beast, though the gaping hole at the bottom of the wall served as evidence of a failed attempt. The wooden floorboards covered in beer, sweat and death, were aged beyond a reasonable standard, likely due for refurnishing sometime soon. The bartender lay dead behind the counter; resting in a pool of beer, blood, glass and acid.

The searing acid, burning away at his flesh.

The corpses on the floor reduced to a rotten husk, as the acids ate away at their faces; like a stomach digesting it's next meal. The eyeballs rolled onto the floor as their sockets melted away, their frail hearts visible, still beating.

"Sarah!"

Mark ran for his daughter's hand - his boots splashed across the acidic pool at his feet; eating away at his skin. He was an average man - thin, but not too thin, with a blue worker's shirt and jeans, a scuffled beard as his age began to near retirement. His eyes, normally a determined blue, evoked the black depths of fear and despair.

"Father!"

Sarah stood at the other end of the room, her frail, golden hair seared black with specks of green. She wore a bright blue dress, her skirt ending halfway up to the knees - partially revealing, but nothing worth noting considering the occasion. Being dragged to a bar by her father on her 21st birthday probably wasn't the most exciting way to spend it, but she didn't really care enough to complain anyway. Upon entering, she left her shoes on a shelf by the entrance, preferring they don't get soaked in the event of someone spilling their beer.

Her bare feet burnt in the puddles of acid; searing and scratching as the skin tore away, inch by inch. The bare fractures of her skeleton began to press against their vision; as the pain intensified with each passing second.

The green, grotesque acid shot out from the beast's mouth, grazing Sarah's shoulder as they crashed into the wall beyond. Within seconds, her arm dropped as the tendons were sharply burnt apart, reduced to nothing more than a limp piece of flesh.

Mark attempted to run across the room. The hazards between them didn't matter - from the green acid on the floor, tearing away at the corpses inch by inch, to the grotesque beast that sat upon the table, ready to end his life at a moment's notice.

"It's too dangerous!"

At the other end of the door, a friend grabbed Mark's hand.

Well, it would be a stretch to call him a 'friend', as they had been nothing more than drinking buddies that had met here on occasion.

In fact, at this point in time, Mark most likely thought him as an enemy.

"Let go!" Mark shook wildly, attempting to break free of the man's grasp.

But it was no use - the man was stronger, younger, and much more muscular in his build, compared to Mark's aging bones.

The green acid flew through the room, tearing across the air. Faster, faster - just barely missing Sarah's life by a hair's length. Her clothes tore apart; burning and searing with the acidic ooze.

"Sarah!"

Mark's last view of his daughter would be upon this scene - the green balls of death; spurting out of the demon's mouth, her clothes burnt and torn to shreds, the assault accelerating at a ferocious pace.

Mark was yanked through the door, even still providing great resistance.

"Let go of me!" He attempted to jump forward; surging forth every ounce of youth in his body as he summoned what may very well be the greatest force he had ever known.

But it was no use.

The door swung shut, as the great wooden bar slammed into place.

After that moment, Mark's life would never be the same again.