Prologue

The fire suppression system has finally put out the remaining fires. All that remains is broken glass, overturned furniture and bodies. The bodies litter the floor in tangled and broken heaps. The once spacious building full of the most sophisticated equipment and people is devoid of life.

Almost all life.

The crunch of glass beneath a large black foot breaks the silence. The owner of that foot is a seven foot tall creature with black rippling skin that has the appearance similar to latex. There is no hair, only sleek blackness. The head of the creature has two large white eyes like large patches that take up much of it and teeth as sharp as razors. From its backs are multiple withering and slithering tendrils protruding from its back.

It stalks past overturned chairs and desks, past cubicles and work stations, past broken windows and equipment. Beneath the black façade is a man, but any humanity left in the man is now gone, replaced by need, replaced by desire. His need, his desire is what fuels him, guides him toward his prey.

The silence makes it easy to root out his prey. He can hear her ragged breaths. They guide him like breadcrumbs. She may be able to run, but there is no place for her to hide. Eventually even her running will come to an end.

He stalks her like a wild cat would a wounded animal. The desire within burns and aches and he is in need of a cure. It has been several days since he satisfied his burning desire but now it is back along with a different desire. But he’s not in need of food—he’s already done that many times over. His desire is to propagate.

The ragged breathing becomes louder and louder for him. He can even hear her beating heart as if it were being broadcast over a public address system. His prey is just ahead, through the door. The room, he knows, has no exit other than the door. She has made it all too easy for him.

The creature picks up his pace, tossing furniture to the side with swipes from his large clawed hands. Glass and other equipment breaks and crunches beneath his powerful feet. Nothing stands in his way and he doesn’t care that she can hear him coming. It’s far too late for her.

The door, like everything else, only acts as a mild irritant as his fist goes through it, sending it off its hinges and into the far wall. There isn’t any sign of the woman he seeks, but he can hear her breathing as clear as day. He can feel the hard, rapid beating of her heart as if it were a drum being played in the corner.

His massive white eyes fall to the single wooden desk. It is the only place to hide and not a very good one. With a swipe of his massive fist, the desk is lifted and bashed into the wall. Beneath is his frightened prey.