Chapter 1.
He could smell the fear on the child, from his vantage point on the roof, as it walked down the alley. It was a heady smell...full of promise; the promise of death. Silently shifting position he began to stalk his prey, delighting in its oblivious nature and anticipating the moment, the feeling; as he tore it to pieces. Just the thought made him salivate, causing his pointed sharp teeth to gleam in the night.
Hearing the child's heart beat increase frantically he smiled as he knew it had sensed him. It would know something was wrong, sense it with that indefinable instinct all prey were endowed with...yes, the child knew it was being hunted. He saw with the keenest of eyes; eyes that told him the child was approaching a crossroads in the dark, twisted warren of alleys that it had mistakenly entered and got lost in. It was a fatal mistake. With the supreme confidence of a born killer, he knew that was the place in which he would feast on the sweetness of innocence.
Emitting a soft, dark chuckle, he tensed iron hard muscles and prepared to spring.
A moment passed...then another...and then a dark shadow launched into the air.
The shadow hung for moments, seemingly defying gravity as it lay suspended in mid-lunge; a dark blotch against the blue-black sky, before plummeting down. Somersaulting in mid-air, with his tattered black cloak fluttering all about him; he was a picture of predatory grace. He landed lightly, amid the steamy clutter of human filth, with his back to the stunned and terrified child. He could have ended it there…but that wouldn’t have been terribly exciting, no, he wanted to play a game. Turning his head to the side, he hissed one word: “Run.”
He watched as the child turned without another word and ran. He smiled and licked his lips with relish, as a fresh wave of intoxicating fear flowed back to him. Throwing back his head he roared his merriment to the night sky. Oh yes, the Hunt was on.
Wheeling about, he snarled and gave chase. Adrenalin was pumping throughout his body, energizing him; making him stronger. His forked tongue slithered out, from moment to moment, tasting the rare delicacy that is a child’s fear. With muscles pumping, veins visibly straining against his pallid, grey skin and a wild tangled mane of darkness snaking down his back; he was a chilling sight. A keen observer might have noticed that at times his form would blend and meld into darkness, but a casual onlooker would see only a shape appearing and reappearing at odd intervals...slowly gaining on the fleeing child. He was so filled with bloodlust that he didn’t notice that for a seemingly lost and terrified child, the boy was surprisingly purposeful in his movements...
******
Skidding around the corner, on all fours, he lunged forward; fully expecting to bite through human flesh and finally feast on his prey…only to have his jaw click painfully shut, on thin air. Scrambling upward, he looked around in confusion. Where on earth had that child gone? His scent was still there, cloying and sweet but the child himself had vanished. Senses straining, he sought all about him for a sign, any sign that the boy had been there; all to no avail.
Throwing his head back he screamed his anger, his frustration at the unforgiving night sky. Gnashing his teeth, he stalked forward slowly, sniffing and licking the air; attempting to pinpoint the vanishing point. Following the trail, he was led back to the crossroads before the scent died; completely and utterly. It didn’t taper off, no, it ended as if it had never existed…and as he stood there, puzzled, a freezing breeze sprung up; stirring the junk at his feet and chilling him to the bone. Abruptly his hunger, bloodlust, and hunting instincts faded and another arose…he shivered as his survival instinct kicked in.
Chapter 2.
He stood, silent and still, letting the night wash over him; concealing, caressing him with its velvety darkness. He didn’t like how things were turning out, he’d been robbed of his meal, and what should have been easy quarry had become elusive prey; he didn’t like such surprises- they foreshadowed change, and not in a good way. He was about to turn and walk away, when the sounds of several guns being cocked sliced through the night; quickly disabusing him of that notion. From those sounds alone, he was able to determine, that he was well and truly surrounded. It seemed he was not the only one who had noticed the advantage of the crossroads as an ambush site.
He’d been fooled; led around on a merry little dance and now he was trapped.
What a fool he’d been!!! He’d seen a seemingly helpless child and had pounced, without thought, without questioning. He’d abandoned the rationale; the logic that set him above the common animal, the very thing that had allowed him to survive so long…and now he was paying the price. Even as he accepted his fate, a niggling suspicion wormed its way into his mind…and as it did he noticed something- the silence. It was not one of anticipation, or triumph; it was a silence that spoke of hesitation, indecision and fear. It confirmed his suspicion; they couldn’t see him. As if hearing his unspoken thoughts, someone spoke in a nervous voice, “Please confirm if you have visual”
A chorus of, “That’s a negative” followed, bringing a smile to the creature’s lips; there was hope yet. As he stood there, an idea slowly took shape in his canny mind, it would be costly but it would work. He went down to the floor, bunched the muscles in his legs, then sprung himself into the air; revealing his position. The response was immediate; rapid bursts of gunfire from all four sides, shattering the night silence. Several bullets slammed into him in mid-air, spinning him about, stealing the impetus from his lunge causing him to slam into the ground gracelessly.
Shouts and cheers of triumph resounded. Moments passed. Then they rushed out, faces suffused with glee, which quickly turned to dismay when they found not a body, but a trail of blood leading into the darkness. Seeing this, the confidence returned to their faces, and they rushed in; following it blindly.
Watching from the darkness, Shadow smiled.
**********
The soldiers stumbled about, having rapidly lost both the trail and their sense of direction while regaining a very sensible fear. They had lost the trail to the muck in mere moments, but had carried on, bolstered by a wave of confidence that had since melted into a bundle of nerves and confusion.
The night cold descended with a vengeance, and soon they were shivering; afraid. Cold. No longer the strong, confident soldiers; reduced to wretched, unwitting prey. The heavens opened and pelted them with freezing, rock hard droplets of water; droplets that formed a seemingly impenetrable curtain of water around them. Like a herd, they inched towards each other, standing in a little group, unconsciously taking comfort from each others presence. Their assault rifles tried to peer through it; little torches roaming aimlessly; futilely.
A shadow, dimly seen by squinting eyes, flitted by.
Icy fear crept up they’re backs, chilling them, whispering insidious things into doubting minds.
The seconds crept by, the fear intensified…and they waited. Shaking hands gripped slippery weapons, heads shook water out of their eyes, bodies tried to stop from fleeing into the night.
Then the moment passed.
Shoulders slumped, grips loosened, and shaky laughs slipped from chattering mouths. Then a snarling form smashed through the curtain, slamming into the leader of the four and thumping him against the wall which produced a satisfying crack. Spluttering bursts of gunfire, muffled by the downpour, crackled into the night. But it was too late; the senseless form slumped into mud, with a wet splat. The shadow was gone. The remaining three huddled even closer together, the attack had sent a very clear message; your mine for the taking.
A dark chuckle shivered through the night.
Chapter 3.
They were cold, tired, wet and afraid… they were about to die. The youngest was barely 19; he had eagerly joined the organization, when its existence had been revealed to him, swept up in the fairy tale aspect of killing monsters, saving humanity, being a hero…the reality was all too shocking.
He found himself staring at the body of his captain, lying face down in a puddle, and shaking his head. That was not the future he’d envisioned, no, he didn’t want to die. He looked up into the eyes of his lieutenant and friend James,
“Bobby” he said warningly, having seen that look before “Bobby, don’t do anything stupid!”
“I don’t want to die!” he said desperately, his nerve having cracked.
Ignoring his friend’s warning, he turned and ran down the alley, in a crazed attempt to get away— back the way they’d come. An arm shot out, weilding glinting death; from a figure which had stood so still that it had merged with the night. Unable to halt his maddened rush, he could only watch as the blade came closer, gleaming wickedly in the rain. He felt curiously detached, as if he were watching a film rather than his own impending doom. He tried to yell out, but got no further than a short scream that was cut off, abruptly.
There was a barely audible thud. The arm moved not an inch; the body ran, stumbling onwards, for moments only before death caught up with it and it dropped to the floor. The head, staring blankly, balanced precariously on the blade; gushing bright red blood which stood out starkly against the dull, grey rain and gloomy night.
The figure stared at the head curiously then began to lob it up, and catch it again, before lobbing it up once more. It was grinning. Tiring of the game, he let it fall to the ground, where it landed with a wet plop. Turning, it looked to see if the others had noticed anything untoward; perhaps they had, but feared to fire lest they harm their friend.
Soft, stifled sobs, reached his ears.
“You wanted to hunt me, kill me like a common animal.” He roared over the downpour, “I had done nothing to you and yet still you wished me harm, well now you will know pain; you will now what it feels like to be hunted!”
No sooner had he said this than his hackles rose and the hairs on the nape of his neck stirred. He turned and saw, standing behind him, the child.
Gender:
Points: 6517
Reviews: 798