ORIGIN

A darkened shadow stalked through the caves, each step slow, purposeful, muscles rippling powerfully. He walked on four limbs, the fingers of his lower arms being the only part of his hands that touched the floor, talons gently clacking on the stone and the bones. A sound rippled through the air. The darkness paused. Head turned, nostrils flared. A scent in the dank air. It was sweet and fresh and close. Someone was near.

Immediately, the monster swiveled around and began heading towards the nose, walking far more careful then before, to make no noise, to make no sound. As he approached, he stepped into darkness. The glowing light on his chest was shrouded in shadow. The area around him dimmed as he got closer and closer. All they would see...was a creeping shadow.

When he turned the corner, he saw. It was there, a creature there. It had made a sound, a strange sound. He did not understand. Was it hungry for food, as he was? Was it calling for protection? A mate? Either way, it had exposed itself. Here was prey, simply begging for a hunt. He crouched in his shadow and prepared.

The shadow did not listen. It heard but it did not understand. It was noises, babble. Perhaps it was making noise to comfort itself. Perhaps it continued to call for help. No help would come. Only the darkness. Only the beast.

His jaws cracked open silently. A long tongue emerged, swiping over the black teeth and the paler lips before retracting and the mouth closing. The blood, he could taste it. He was close, so close now. The shadows crept closer, from behind, where they could not see. They could not see. They will not see.

Eyes hidden in darkness pinpoint the location. Jaws crack open in preparation. His feet and his lower arms brace against the ground. He pulls in, he gathers, and in a swift, powerful movement, he leaps.

All arms outstretched. He leaps from the darkness without a sound. The talons are poised to sink into his prey. The jaws are open, ready to bite down on its neck. It is new, but he does not care. He is too hungry to care.

The beast slammed down on top of the creature but the way it rolled seemed to make his claws miss. No matter. They were beneath him now. His face betrayed no emotion besides concentration, his lip curled just slightly to reveal the jet-black fangs beneath. His stomach rumbled. End it quickly, kill, devour.

He lunged forward, aiming to grab the creature in his jaws by its neck. Still an infant, his teeth were not long enough to penetrate the windpipe, they could not kill yet a creature this size so, instead, he tried to pick them up. Snap their neck. Shake them until they moved no more. And then...food.

He was shaking it, as hard as he could, but he was young. He was new. He was not strong enough...yet. Perhaps the prey was too big. Perhaps the predator was too weak. But he had begun. He must finish now. He would not stop...the scent of food was too intoxicating to resist.

The monster opened his jaws and let the creature fall. Noises continued to come from its throat. Terrified sounds, perhaps. Were all creatures so noisy when they faced death? His glowing eyes focused down on the creature for a moment before one of the claws raised and slashed down.

He was not cruel. He wanted to end it quickly. He did not wish to see the creature in torment, in suffering. He just wanted a meal. Every second longer, the pain in his stomach grew greater. He needed to eat. He needed to devour all. The claws went for the throat. They were long enough. Perhaps they were sharp enough too.

The claws came down, they ripped through skin, but still the prey moved. It screamed and backed away from him. He was confused. Why did it continue to move? It was bleeding - that was good. It would slow it down. Or maybe it would bleed out and die. That would take a long time...and it would hurt. He rather it was over soon.

He didn't move, then, purely out of a mild surprise. It was charging for him. The demon stood and stared down, a little off guard from the sudden movement. Shouldn't it run away? Does prey not flee? He had tried to hunt before and it had run away from him. The shadows had terrified the prey and the prey had fled for safety. But this one was not. It was charging. Attacking.

But now its back was to him. It missed in its assault. He acted on instinct. A swift leap. He was upon it. Claws reaching forward to grab the fur on its back. Teeth reaching forward to fasten themselves in its spine. To bite down, to crush if the teeth could not rip away.