Heavy Spin

The pet flap at the back entrance didn't stop me. I drove my shoulder straight through the plastic flap and marched back inside. The laundry room was shaking. The washing machine was locked in a brutal spin cycle, drumming a heavy, low-frequency roar into the floor tiles. I stepped up close, planted both claws flat against the rattling metal casing, and stiffened my frame. The shudder tore straight up through my arms into my internal struts. High torque. Pure continuous beat. It tried to push me off, but I leaned my full weight forward and held the line.