Luna

Panting, I ran down the street. I could feel it's rancid breath on my neck as I ran. I quickly turned into an alley, hoping to lose him.
Dead end.
Literally.
I slowly turned around, checking if he was there, even though I knew he was. He stood there, seven feet tall, one milky eye in the center of his forehead, two rams horns sprout from either side of his head. His skin is tinged with green, and all he is wearing is a loin cloth. His jaw sticks out, sharp teeth protruding.
I have nothing to fight with. He has a large club in his right hand. Now, I notice, his one eye is milky.
Blind.
I press my back against the wall as his rancid breath surrounds me. He smells like guts and rotting milk. He is having trouble finding where I am. I pick up a pebble and aim for his eye.
Foosh. Chunk.
That's the noise it makes when the pebble lands in his eye. He roars loudly, but, if anything, that only annoyed him. He knows where I am now. His club is swinging when-
He turns into sand.
Behind the small pile of sand, there sits a lion. I rub my eyes. The lion slinks closer to me, like it's about to pounce.
It does.

Notes