The scent of blood was easy to follow. A sweet, metallic smell wafted through the air, calling to me. My prey moved with awkward steps, trying to escape. The possibility of her making it through the night alive was very slim. I sniffed the air again and listened. She was not far.
I hunched down on all fours and moved on my padded feet in her direction. There was no rush. This was all part of the game. Part of the hunt. My relaxed approach was honed with experience. I did not think of myself as a killer. I was a survivor. I had to feed. For me to eat, things had to die. I appreciated every sacrifice, whether it was human or animal.
The sound of cracking twigs ahead of me brought me back to the task at hand. I would end her quickly, then enjoy my meal before leaving it for a scavenger and taking a nap. Her cries had turned to light whimpers as she tried to escape. A false sense of security is best for her. There may be a struggle if she knew how close the time was.
I padded closer and was able to see her now. A skirt and white button-up shirt that was littered with leaves, some scratches, and a streak of blood from me marking her. Her long brown hair was sticking to parts of her skin from perspiration. She stumbled again as she half ran to anywhere but here. Her arms lifted her up to her knees, where she sat. Looking up to the sky, she began to cry.
I almost felt bad. The human inside me wanted to comfort her and let her know I wouldn’t do her any harm. It was the beast who was in control now, though. The beast’s adrenaline was flowing hard from a successful chase. My mouth watered in anticipation of the meal, almost tasting the meat in my mouth.
The beast took his trophy and ended her suffering quickly. My powerful jaws grabbed her throat and snapped it. I dared not look at her face as I ate. Her features were best left unknown to me, as I may have seen her in the streets. I may have passed her or interacted with her as I bought things from various stores. I may have even flirted with her. All of that would just add to the sadness of tomorrow morning if I could recall her.