Alright, here's the first of the shorts stories I will be having to come up with for creative writing, hope you enjoy --------------------------------------------- Darkling Darkness surrounded Natar as he stepped backward, allowing his back to press against the corner created by the two buildings that lined the busy street, rendering the Darkling near invisible to outside viewers while still allowing him to view all that transpired before him as he settled in for the hunt. The Darkling’s mortal eyes moved rapidly across the surroundings before him as he stretched his Fiend half’s ability, to locate anything from its home, the Nether, to its farthest limits without making it detectable to other Nether Beasts that might be on the hunt. After more than an hour of nothing the Darkling began to play a game, involving the mortals, which passed him by, so that his mind would not wander to thoughts of failure, wasted time, and hungry, gore filled dreams. The game involved taking notice of as many of the filthy mortals that passed his way as quickly as possible and determining the most efficient and yet satisfying method of slaughtering the each and every one of the vermin. Natar was quite good at this game and as such was on his fifty-eighth mortal, a whelp of the gender they nominate as female whom he had decided would best be led away from the mortals that spawned it, then drawn into a dark alleyway, toyed with and then beheaded with a single claw strike, when his extended Nether sense finally alerted him to the presence of his prey. His head snapped to the general direction in which his sense had pointed him in. His eyes immediately zeroed in on a mortal, again a female, whom had just exited the building across the street as it lit one of the wretched rods that the mortals insisted on burning, and then inhaling the toxic fumes of the afore mentioned rods. The female then walked in front of one of the only alleys in this section of the town, which was unusually shadowed given the direction of the sun, stopped and took a long, slow drag of the filth the mortal enjoyed poisoning itself with. Suddenly a pair of blackened hands, which were tipped by talons, stretched forth from the shadowed alley and clamped on to the foolish mortal, one of the taloned hands latching over its preys mouth, the other clasping on to the mortals midsection, dragging her in to the shadows, veiling her from the sight of the other mortals as the owner of the hands would devour its prey. Natar’s lips curled in what could be described as, if not a vile smile filled with violent, blood-thirsty joy, a sinister sneer which could curdle milk and make blood run still. Natar had found his prey. He launched forth from his shadows, his flesh changing from the soft meat suits that the mortals wore as he went, his clothes fading from existence. His arms extended as they thinned, not becoming stick-like but something similar in appearance, his fingers and hands were becoming talon tipped claws that were sharper than daggers, his legs taking similar appearances as his arms while his feet lost a toe each as another moved to take its place on his heels all the while sharpening and hardening as well. His head warped, becoming mostly mouth and teeth as his lips dissolved away, his eyes elongating to encompass half his face all the while staying the same width, the long disgusting fur that covered his head hardening into spikes and horns and long sharp spines protruded from all over his back. His flesh and bones then changed from that soft weak material that they were, turning blacker than onyx, harder than diamonds, stronger than steel, making it so that when he crossed the road the repulsive device that the mortals crafted to enhance their own speed would no longer be a threat to him but instead he a threat to them, a fact he proved as he leapt from the cement band that was meant to be walked on and on to a passing machine, leaving a deep hole in the hood and engine. He then leapt again, proving the fact once more, and then leapt once more making it to the other cement band. Natar then rushed through the web of shadows his prey had weaved while throwing up a better net behind him. The sight that met him made him sneer again, all be it this time not out of satisfaction but instead out the disgust and contempt that was reserved for lesser forms of life that dared crossed ones path. The species of Nether beast before him was the Nether Kaln, a hexapod species who foremost appendages served as both arms and legs, hands and feet, and the creature was so engrossed in devouring the entrails of its own still living prey, that it had managed to ignore all of Natar’s less than quiet entrance. In response to this insult Natar slowly walked over to the Kaln and kicked it in its side, sending the six legged nether beast flying into the wall that ended the alley. Natar then rushed forward, before the creature could fall out of the depression it made in the brick, pulling out spines from his back and lancing them into his prey's flesh pinning it to the wall. He then placed his hands between what could be considered the Kaln’s head and neck and pulled the head away from the neck with many sickening snaps and cracks. Natar then upended the skull and plunged a claw into the cavity left from where the neck had been and pulled out a large hand full of the mush that had constituted as the Kaln’s knowledge center which he then shoved into his mouth, chewing and swallowing with delight. He then snapped off a piece of the bony carapace the constituted the former creatures skull and used it as a tortilla chip, scooping out large amounts of mush and shoveling it into his mouth, shattering the mush covered shell against his harder-than-diamond teeth and washing it down with the bubbling ooze that had begun to gather along the quickly receding edges of skull till there was nothing left of the beasts head. Natar licked his claws clean with a slimy, black tongue that was seemingly too long for his mouth, and moved on to the rest of the Kaln devouring it as the mortals would devour the eight-legged crustaceans that they enjoyed with churned milk. Once finished Natar mostly changed back, his clothes returning to their proper place, his claws becoming almost hands, his nails still sharp and pointed, his arms and legs reverted to their original length and shape along with his feet, his spines, once returned, spikes and horns returning to their former state of flesh and fur. His ‘skin’ turned pink once more while retaining its strength and firmness. He then began walking towards the web of darkness which had concealed the alley, passing the dying mortal who decided at that moment to press her doom. “P-p-please,” She stuttered, blood bubbling out from her lips, “H-h-help.” Natar smiled, at first comfortingly then maliciously as he placed his hand upon her head and gave it a swift twist snapping the foolish mortal‘s neck. He turned back to the darkness and was about to unravel it when he stopped and turned to the carcass, wearing a pensive expression on his face. Fools these mortals may be, but even they will notice the death of one of their own, Natar thought worriedly, then a slow smile began to spread across the darkling’s face, his lips peeling back to reveal black, pointed, serrated teeth with a too long black tongue the lolled out, but they are more than likely to ignore a disappearance. He then stalked slowly towards the cadaver, tongue twitching across his lips in a hungry ecstasy. Two meals in one sitting, what wonderful Hell.