20180702

Day 1,393

It seemed to slide along the ground like freshly poured tar, every movement executed with a deliberate and thoughtful slowness. The man waiting at the bus stop didn't notice a thing, didn't hear the sounds of wet fabric dragging against stone or feel its hungry gaze.

He didn't even scream when it grabbed his foot.

That was when it seemed to realise that he was already dead and caution crept into its mind like fog over a river. It wasn't the only predator out that night and its competition was faster, quieter and close enough that its victim was still warm to the touch.

One would think that a being composed mainly of unseen eyes and a constantly shifting number of limbs would notice that it wasn't alone yet, much like its would-be prey, it didn't look up. Nobody ever looks up, much less a creature who already thinks of itself as death incarnate.

By morning only the man will be found, stone cold dead with one foot covered in an oil-like substance.

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