Meth Moth by J. Rocky Colavito

If you ever find yourself traveling in West Virgina, there’s a real chance you’ll hear the locals talking about something in hushed tones. Something with huge red eyes that mess with your sight, something that can fly fast enough to overtake a speeding car, something that makes meals out of pets left out at night, something that caused a horrible tragedy in the sixties.

It’s not a legend.

It’s gotten its hands on a stash of high-grade methamphetamine. And now it’s addicted and addled.
And on the hunt.

Eight feet tall, a nearly twenty-foot wingspread, clawed feet and hands, a bullet-deflecting exoskeleton.

Fueled by meth frenzy.

It stalks the night; its bloodthirst as unchecked as its addiction to the burning fumes of its drug stash.

Those who survive will never forget . . .

MethMoth.