Chapter 2: The First Hunt

Chapter 2: The First Hunt

The resonant hum of satiated hunger was a deep, satisfying thrum within the Progenitor’s chest, a stark contrast to the screaming void that had defined its birth. It examined its right arm, now a weapon of polished black chitin. The three claws, long and obsidian-sharp, twitched with latent power. This new form felt… correct. More efficient. More lethal.

But the silence of the cemetery was now broken. The distant wail of a siren grew from a whine to a piercing shriek, a sound that grated on its newly heightened senses. Red and blue lights began to strobe against the ancient tombstones, painting the graveyard in frantic, unnatural colors. The human world was responding to the disturbance, sending its guardians to investigate the disruption in its flock.

The Progenitor, now designated Kael by the System's silent baptism, felt no fear. Instead, a cold, calculating curiosity took hold. The System had provided a directive: Evolve further. These approaching humans, what were they? More biomass? A threat? An opportunity?

He melted back into the deep shadows of the mausoleum where he was born, his pale form nearly invisible against the moon-bleached marble. His movements were fluid, silent, a predator settling into its blind. The patrol car crunched to a halt on the gravel path near the main gate. Two doors slammed shut.

“What the hell?” a voice cut through the night. “Dispatch said a scream, not a goddamn massacre.”

Kael watched as two men in dark uniforms approached, their flashlights cutting sharp, nervous beams through the gloom. The System’s interface flickered to life, overlaying his vision with familiar blue text as he focused on the figures.

[Human - Grade F Biomass] [Nutritional Value: Low] [Threat Level: Low (Equipped with primitive projectile weapon)]

Primitive projectile weapon. The System’s addendum was new. It was learning, providing more detail. Kael’s glowing blue eyes narrowed. He shifted his gaze to the metallic object holstered at the first officer’s hip. A tool. A danger.

The older officer, a man with a weary gut and a thinning hairline, crouched beside Frank’s body. “God, Miller… his throat’s torn out. What could do this?”

The younger one, Reed, kept his light moving, sweeping it across the open crypt, the shattered door, and the second body. His hand rested on the grip of his pistol. “Animal attack? A big one?”

“No animal I’ve ever seen,” Miller said, standing up. His face was pale. “Call it in. Tell them we need backup. Homicide, and maybe animal control.”

Reed fumbled with the radio on his shoulder, his back now turned to the deep shadows by the mausoleum. It was a fatal mistake.

Kael moved. There was no conscious decision, only the perfect alignment of instinct, opportunity, and the System’s silent imperative. He flowed from the darkness like spilled ink, covering the ground with an unnatural speed that defied human perception.

The crunch of a dry leaf under his foot was the only warning.

Reed spun around, his eyes widening in terror as his flashlight beam found the creature. He saw a tall, skeletal thing of nightmare, pale skin stretched tight over an alien frame, one arm a glossy black weapon, and two eyes that burned with a cold, blue fire.

“Jesus Christ!” he shrieked, his training kicking in a half-second too late. He clawed for his gun, pulling it free and firing in a single, panicked motion.

The gunshot was a deafening crack in the night. The muzzle flashed, and Kael felt a sharp, kinetic impact against his right forearm. It was like being struck by a thrown rock. He looked down. The 9mm slug was a flattened piece of lead, smeared against the black chitin. It hadn’t even left a scratch. A faint wisp of smoke curled from the point of impact.

Negligible. The System had been correct.

Before Reed could process the impossible sight of his bullet failing, Kael’s chitinous arm lashed out. It was not a swipe, but a precise, piston-like thrust. The three obsidian claws punched through the officer’s sternum with the sound of cracking bone and tearing fabric. Kael lifted him effortlessly off the ground, the man’s legs kicking uselessly. Reed’s eyes were wide with a final, agonizing shock before the light faded from them.

Miller had his weapon out now, his hands trembling as he tried to aim at the monster holding his partner’s corpse. “Drop him! Drop him now, you son of a—”

Kael discarded the body with a contemptuous flick of his wrist and lunged. He was faster than a bullet, faster than a man’s fear. Miller managed to fire twice. The first shot went wide, striking a nearby angel statue and chipping off a piece of its stone wing. The second slug impacted Kael’s shoulder with another dull thud, barely staggering him.

Then Kael was on him. His left hand, still pale and almost human-like, clamped over Miller’s face, smothering his scream. His clawed right hand rose, the moonlight glinting on its razor edges, and descended.

It was over in seconds.

The immediate aftermath was silent, save for the crackle of the dropped radio and the approaching sound of more sirens. More were coming. This small, walled-in space was no longer a sanctuary. It was a cage, and the bars were closing in. The flashing lights drew the eye, warning everything away, but to Kael, they were simply beacons, pinpointing the hunters who were now the hunted.

He could stay and fight. He could gorge on this new influx of Biomass. But a deeper instinct, guided by the System’s cold logic, told him this was inefficient. A protracted battle here was a waste of energy. The true prize lay beyond these walls.

He turned his back on the carnage and ran towards the far edge of the cemetery, his feet making no sound on the damp grass. He reached the ten-foot-high stone wall that separated the dead from the living. Without hesitation, he leaped, his powerful legs propelling him upwards. His claws dug into the ancient mortar, finding purchase where none should exist, and he hauled himself over the top with fluid, insect-like grace.

He landed in a silent crouch on the asphalt of a quiet, tree-lined street. The air here was different. It smelled of cut grass, exhaust fumes, and the faint scent of food from a distant diner. This was Blackwood Creek. The sirens were a frantic noise behind him now, trapped within the confines of the cemetery. Here, there was peace. A fragile, sleeping peace he was about to shatter.

Houses stood dark and silent, their occupants asleep, dreaming, unaware of the predator that now walked their streets. Each house was a potential nest of Biomass, a treasure chest of life force waiting to be plundered. The low hum of hunger returned, no longer a desperate need but a connoisseur's anticipation. This town was a buffet.

His attention was snagged by a flicker of movement down the block. A lone figure, illuminated by the intermittent glow of a streetlight. They were jogging, headphones covering their ears, their breath misting in the cool night air. Utterly oblivious.

The System’s interface materialized once more, framing the distant figure.

[Target of Opportunity Detected] [Biomass Grade: F] [Status: Unaware. Isolated.]

Kael’s lipless mouth pulled back in what might have been a smile. The graveyard had been the appetizer. The town of Blackwood Creek would be the main course.

He sank into the shadows of a large oak tree, the darkness swallowing his pale form whole, his cold blue eyes fixed on his new prey. The first hunt had truly begun.