Worse than libel...

John sat in his comfortable arm chair, reading his news paper. He furrowed his brow, reading articles about the unpleasantries of the world and the corruption of those running it. His eyes widened when he came to a page regarding the attack at the Grand Canyon in the United States.
The article made reference to the rift that had opened in the Grand Canyon and the unusual creatures that poured forth from it and began wreaking havoc on the tourists as they ran in fear. One account told of a man who tried to protect his family by charging one of the creatures on a mule, used to climb down to the river, bu they were both brutally killed. Animal experts could not classify the beasts as any sort of animal that already existed. Religious figures called it a plague from Hell, punishing mankind for their sins. When the US government got involved, however, the stories grew more and more interesting. Their soldiers killed several hundred of the beasts and had their bodies sent off to labs for testing, but not long after the arrival of their combat vehicles and tanks, beasts much larger and more formidable had begun to appear. The story took up several pages. John could not keep himself from reading more and more.
He turned the page and his heart skipped a beat, when he saw a picture of one such creature. It was a smaller beast, probably one of the first to fall under the guns of the Americans. Despite the gunshot wounds, the body was intact. The color picture revealed its skin to be a shade of burgundy. There were markings on the thick hide that looked as if someone had drawn on the beast with red hot poker. Curiously precise designs covered the hide and hanging limp in the air, like a turtle, its four limbs, each adorned with a large set of claws rested with an awkward look, as if they had been frozen like that. A bead of sweat slid down John's cheek and he looked closer, at the beasts head. The head, large, like a cows was covered in small scales, like a lizard. Its jaws were filled with sharp, but crooked and carelessly placed teeth, and above the mouth, a pair of glazed yellow eyes burned, left open from the shots to the head which brought it down. John looked close at the full page picture, putting his head very near the paper. He peered into the yellow eyes of the beast, trying to see something hidden by the angle, something that would have told him more about the creature's origins.
Frustrated, he got to his feet and put the paper down on the coffee table, then, stalked off to find a magnifying glass. Upon his return he found the paper on the floor. He looked at it suspiciously and moved toward it slowly as if expecting it to burst into flames. He picked it up and held it close to his face, with the magnifying glass in the middle. He peered at the larger image. When he had had enough of the cryptic runes, he shifted his gaze to the rest of the beastly face. He looked hard into the large face, expecting it to do something. A car drove by, casting an eerie shadow upon the creature and it appeared as though it had indeed moved. First struck with a quick jolt of fear, John pushed the small table away and the glass fell to the floor. When the car passed, John looked again to the newspaper and froze, as an icy chill crawled up his spine, stinging with fearful spines. The front page of the paper suddenly ripped open and a clawed hand was tearing at the surrounding paper as the terrible beast pictured, had begun an attempt at escaping! John screamed in terror and fell to the floor. A hideous, clawed arm reached out of the paper and slammed down on the wooden floor, scratching the shining surface. The wood splintered and another arm emerged. The head followed until the beast was half way out of the realm of print and paper. Its fiery eyes glared at him and the beast roared. John got to his feet and backed away into the corner. The demon let loose an unholy screech and on its hands alone it tore into the wood, crawling toward him. Looking around for a weapon, or any solid object, his eyes fell on a candle stick on the table beside him. He picked up and holding it by the top, he swung it at the beast hitting it squarely on the snout. It lost its balance just long enough to fall back into the paper. John inched closer, his body still quivering with fear. He peeked over the edge of the ripped paper and saw the beast circling under the opening, only a few feet below. It looked up, staring him straight in the eye, drool and slobber dripping from its jagged jawline. It sunk low to the ground, bending its spindly legs and suddenly leaped up. It crashed through the paper with such force that it knocked John through the door way into his front hall. He clamoured to his feet as the creature shredded the news paper into hundreds of tiny black and white pieces. It then turned its spit sodden jaws to John. He backed up the stairs, slowly, fighting his fear as best he could. The demon sprang at him and he shrieked and leaped out of the way. The beast slammed into the wall, knocking down a a portrait and a small, round mirror. The glass shattered and shards tumbled to the floor. John ran up the stairs and the beast roared after him, tearing up the carpet as it clawed at the floor. It shot up the stairs and roared down the upstairs hall after him. It cornered him again, this time against a window. John turned around and looked hopefully through the glass, only to see the unfriendly street, hard and uninviting. He turned back to face the growling beast. It stopped its slow approach and crouched low, its hot breath coming slow and blowing in John's face with every exhale. John turned again, hoping this time to see something different. A white BMW pulled up outside, just below the window. Its shiny exterior glistened with the light of a nearby street lamp. Where the hood ornament would have normally displayed the traditional logo with the azure and white in a ring of black with the letters "BMW" at the top, was instead, a ring of chrome, within which a red cross was lain over a white background. John turned. The beast pounced. John ducked as quickly as he could and it broke through the window. Followed by a trail of broken glass, the beast crashed into the street. It rolled across over the opposite sidewalk and up the stoop of the neighboring houses. The car door opened and a young man, clad blue jeans, and a white t-shirt, with a pair of red Converse All Stars, and a sword climbed out. He held the sword ready and shut the door with a loud "bang!" The beast bounced to its feet and leaped down into the street to meet the boy.
"Go back down," the boy said, aiming the blade at the beast. It roared and swiped a clawed hand at him. "You don't want to fight me," he replied. The beast crouched low. The boy readied his sword. John watched from the window, mesmerized by the goings on below. The beast lunged, shredding bits of the road under its stride. It sprung at the boy and he ducked, raising his sword as the beast floated overhead, catching it in the soft underbelly. It landed on the ground and slid down the street, as its entrails leaked out on the blacktop. It glided into the nearest intersection where a double decker bus, slammed into it, knocking it far down the street. Screams filled the air and breaks screeched. There was a rush of fire and a great blast of light issued from around the corner. And then it was dark.