The estate was a concrete labyrinth that even the oldest tenant could barely navigate. The councillors roamed the streets, scurrying between disused shop fronts and filthy alleys in their search for more space to increase their territory. They were the driving force behind the constant alterations to the estate, destroying and creating and generally running wild as they expanded and fortified their nest.
The humans unlucky enough to live there learnt to work around this, sending homemade drones up every morning to map out the changes and warn other residents of the councillors current location. They may be harmless in general but anything that even vaguely resembles a councillor they don't recognise send the whole pack into a flurry of teeth, claws and broken bottles.
Their latest fixation was three former shops whose owners had managed to escape to less prison-like estates a few months ago. They left behind as much as they could, staging the shops to look like they'd be back in just a moment. It fooled the councillors for long enough that they forgot about chasing after their tenants.
Now they wanted to dig the floor out of the shops and make a more direct entrypoint to their main feeding chamber. It's easier to feed their grubs when they don't have to walk single-file into a closet in Shazza's Nail & Beauty Parlour, down crooked hand-made steps and through a waterfall they accidentally made when they dug through a water pipe.
One-by-one the tenants will all escape through forgotten tunnels and disused office blocks.
One-by-one the councillors will be picked off by stronger packs.
One-by-one the estates will consume each other until only one is left.
The humans unlucky enough to live there learnt to work around this, sending homemade drones up every morning to map out the changes and warn other residents of the councillors current location. They may be harmless in general but anything that even vaguely resembles a councillor they don't recognise send the whole pack into a flurry of teeth, claws and broken bottles.
Their latest fixation was three former shops whose owners had managed to escape to less prison-like estates a few months ago. They left behind as much as they could, staging the shops to look like they'd be back in just a moment. It fooled the councillors for long enough that they forgot about chasing after their tenants.
Now they wanted to dig the floor out of the shops and make a more direct entrypoint to their main feeding chamber. It's easier to feed their grubs when they don't have to walk single-file into a closet in Shazza's Nail & Beauty Parlour, down crooked hand-made steps and through a waterfall they accidentally made when they dug through a water pipe.
One-by-one the tenants will all escape through forgotten tunnels and disused office blocks.
One-by-one the councillors will be picked off by stronger packs.
One-by-one the estates will consume each other until only one is left.
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