Jan ran.

It was all she could do.

Why didn’t she believe the old man that warned her, why?  When her friends disappeared, she should have known, but she was too stubborn to believe that the story could possibly be true.

But it was.  It was true...very true.

It was hard to see in the pouring rain, her small flashlight barely lit the ground in front of her...but she could hear him coming closer.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun him, but she had to try.

Why didn’t she leave when she had the chance?

She ran through the woods as fast as she could, but sounds of her pursuer got closer and closer.

She tripped.

She fell.

As she struggled to her knees, gasping for breath, muscles aching, she heard her pursuer stop behind her, then slowly make his way in front of her.  She stared at the form that stood there, watching her curiously.

A black stallion.

His bent his head down and sniffed as her face.  He seemed harmless, but she knew better, she saw what he had done to the cat he caught yesterday, that had been when she realized the stories were true.  And when she had realized what had happened to her friends.

His nose nuzzled her forehead as she cried, dimly aware she was still clutching her flashlight.  Why hadn’t she believed the stories about the feral horse?  Now it was too late.  She knew she wouldn’t escape, she was already dead.

She looked down, tears streaming down her face and she felt the horses lips playing with her hair.

Please, just get it over with, let it be quick....please...

Whether or not the stallion heard her silent plea, she didn’t know, but she suddenly felt those lips moving over the top of her head.  She tensed, but didn’t fight the stallion, that would only prolong the inevitable of her death.
She closed her eyes tightly as she felt the stallion’s lips reach her forehead.  The lips continued to inch down around her head, and as she felt the tongue tasting her, she shuddered in fear, still not quite believing this was happening to her.  But whether or not she believed it, it certainly didn’t seem to matter to the stallion as he continued pushing his head down, until her entire head was in his mouth.

Jan tried not to scream as she felt that long tongue sliding across her head, tasting her.  She could feel the horse’s hot breath moving past her face as the stallion began working her shoulders into his mouth.  And just as they slid in, her head slid into his throat.

That settled it....Jan panicked.

Unable to move back, she quickly tried to stand, to get on her feet, screaming from inside his throat.  All she succeeded in accomplishing was sliding her chest into his maw.  The stallion pushed down, throat rippling around her as he swallowed, pulling more of her inside him.

Her shoulders were pulled into the tight, hungry gullet as she continued to try and stand, her panicked mind not realized she was simply helping the stallion feed.  The stallion’s lips were around her stomach now, her arms tightly pinned to her sides, strings of drool dripping from his mouth as she slipped into him.

She could feel that throat rippling around her, hugging her, pulling her inside it.  The stallion just kept pushing down and swallowing her, and was quickly disappearing.  Soon her hips slid into the hungry maw as she went limp.  The stallion lifted his head high in the air, allowing gravity to pull her down.

Already soaked by the pouring rain, she slid down quite easily and before she knew it his maw closed completely as her feet entered.  Most of her was encompassed by the powerful throat, but that was coming to an end as she felt herself sliding into the stallion’s stomach.

Having given up, she simply curled up as more and more of her slid inside.  When her hands were free of the gullet, she realized she was still clutching her flashlight, and she hugged it tightly as it illuminated the slimy walls of the stomach, her new home.  Soon she was completely inside the belly of the stallion, the walls taut and hugging her tightly, churning.

It would be a while before she fell asleep, a bulge in the horse’s gut.

Her last thought, though, was why didn’t she believe the stories about the feral horse that ate people.