Putin sat at the far end of his overly long table–propped up on his chair with pillows stacked on top of one another, as he spoke to his general, who was seated at the opposite end. They were discussing the special operation in Ukraine.

"WHAT PROGRESS HAVE WE MADE COMRADE?" Putin shouted across the long table.

"THEY ARE WELCOMING US AS LIBERATORS. ALL IS GOING TO PLAN," the general lied.

"GOOD. I THINK THIS CALLS FOR MORE VODKA!" Putin shouted, as he beckoned for drinks.

It took the serving lady ten minutes to reach the end of the table, as she carried a tray containing a bottle of the finest vodka, and two shot glasses. By the time she made it to the president, she was sweating profusely. And after pouring Putin's vodka, she took a moment to catch her breath, before trekking to the other side of the table to pour the generals drink.

Putin, and his general, raised their glass, and toasted to victory. And before they could touch the shot glass to their lips, they were startled by a noise coming from the other side of the door. It was the sound of screams–terrified, and blood curdling screams.

"Find out what is going on!" Putin demanded to his guards, who were standing by his side.

The guards both drew their weapons, and cautiously approached the door. The door was opened, and as they slowly walked outside, one was thrown back with violent force, splatting against the wall, with a wet crunching sound. The other screamed, and began firing his weapon, as he stepped backwards. Before being dragged into the hallway screaming.

Putin cowered behind the table, and his general got up, and drew his pistol.

Heavy footsteps grew louder, as they inched closer to the meeting room. The general kept his gun pointed towards the door.

"WHERE ARE THE REST OF MY GUARDS?" Putin shouted to his general.

But before a reply could be muttered, two huge orange paws gripped the sides of the door. The general began firing wildly. As the giant fox-like monstrosity continued to enter the room–clearly unaffected by the bullets, as they bounced off of its furry body.

Putin let out a high pitched scream–like that of a schoolgirl, as he cowered behind his chair.

The fox beast lunged at the general, as he screamed with fear, before being decapitated in one swift swipe of its paw.

Putin tried to run for the door, but the beast was quicker. It bolted for the door, and blocked his path–shutting the door behind it.

By the time Spetnaz soldiers had made it to the meeting room, it was too late…

The president's screams echoed from beneath the cracks of the door. Followed by the sound of flesh and bone being ripped apart.