Tournna
10-12-13, 03:21 AM
Against the lightless, carefully and intricately carved tunnel floor, cracked and broken fingernails scrabbled against the dusty rock with a screech. A soft, but rapid pitter-patter indicated that the prey had veered and fled north. Farther down the tunnel in that direction was the stairwell leading to the mausoleum on the surface, and cracks large enough to allow the rat to flee into the cold, open night air.
The heavier slapping of bare feet on stone came in rapid succession. The stalker could not see in the dark, but its sense of smell and hearing was honed such that it could track even in the unforgiving blackness of the catacombs. It closed the distance quickly and perhaps unintentionally, perhaps in a calculated maneuver, the larger predator came down hard with its heel directly onto the rats whip-like tail. The mottled rodent wheeled, screeching horribly biting wildly at the offender's foot, but invoked no reaction. If even the dim light of a torch were cast on the doomed vermin, one would have noticed the pox which clearly riddled the rat's bloated body. Grey fur grew in patches, as consistent as the festering yellow boils. Its eyes had sickly pink rims which seemed to be falling away as the tiny beast succumbed over time to the plague it carried.
The first of two agile hands shot down, wrapping entirely around the plague-rat's head. The vermin with its infectious bite retaliated, but to no avail. A second thin, but supernaturally firm hand closed around the bulk of the plump rats body, and with no hesitation, began to twist. So efficient at killing the mundane beasts that roamed the tunnels, the rodent didn't even have a change to cry out before all air was blasted from its lungs. The floor grew slick in the dark and a horrible sucking sound, like a boot pulling free of thick mud, echoed unsettlingly loud. The noises that followed were no less unnerving as the hunter wasted no time and began to feed. Awful smacking of dry, cracked lips savoring juicy gore accompanied the rhythmic splatter of dripping fluid. The popping of thin bones followed. Claws, teeth and tail were discarded with a few clicks and a plop, and all else was consumed. In the next hour, the floor would be cleaned by tongue of all traces of the rat's substance.
In the hour that followed that, the hunger would return again, as painful and motivating as ever.
The heavier slapping of bare feet on stone came in rapid succession. The stalker could not see in the dark, but its sense of smell and hearing was honed such that it could track even in the unforgiving blackness of the catacombs. It closed the distance quickly and perhaps unintentionally, perhaps in a calculated maneuver, the larger predator came down hard with its heel directly onto the rats whip-like tail. The mottled rodent wheeled, screeching horribly biting wildly at the offender's foot, but invoked no reaction. If even the dim light of a torch were cast on the doomed vermin, one would have noticed the pox which clearly riddled the rat's bloated body. Grey fur grew in patches, as consistent as the festering yellow boils. Its eyes had sickly pink rims which seemed to be falling away as the tiny beast succumbed over time to the plague it carried.
The first of two agile hands shot down, wrapping entirely around the plague-rat's head. The vermin with its infectious bite retaliated, but to no avail. A second thin, but supernaturally firm hand closed around the bulk of the plump rats body, and with no hesitation, began to twist. So efficient at killing the mundane beasts that roamed the tunnels, the rodent didn't even have a change to cry out before all air was blasted from its lungs. The floor grew slick in the dark and a horrible sucking sound, like a boot pulling free of thick mud, echoed unsettlingly loud. The noises that followed were no less unnerving as the hunter wasted no time and began to feed. Awful smacking of dry, cracked lips savoring juicy gore accompanied the rhythmic splatter of dripping fluid. The popping of thin bones followed. Claws, teeth and tail were discarded with a few clicks and a plop, and all else was consumed. In the next hour, the floor would be cleaned by tongue of all traces of the rat's substance.
In the hour that followed that, the hunger would return again, as painful and motivating as ever.