Dangerous Creatures

The projectile sliced through the air with a sinister whistle. Dylan dove to the side, dragging Maggie down with him. The object—an arrowhead-shaped shard of bone—embedded itself in a tree trunk with a dull thud, exactly where their heads had been a second earlier.

"Move!" Maggie barked, rolling onto her side, her pistol already aimed in the direction of the attack.

Between the trees, a figure emerged, barely the size of a thirteen-year-old. Its greenish skin gleamed under the slivers of light filtering through the branches, its face twisted by a protruding jaw and bulging eyes veined with black. The creature growled—a raspy, hesitant sound, as if unsure of its own aggression. It stepped back, crooked claws gripping a crude axe carved from a giant femur.

Dylan didn't fire. Crouched behind a mossy trunk, he watched the creature spinning in place, nervously sniffing the air. "It's lost," he realized. "Or waiting for backup."

Maggie, posted behind a nearby tree, caught his eye and tilted her chin eastward. "Flank it."

They crawled in silence, using the undergrowth as cover. The creature kept grunting, thumping the ground with its bone axe in rising agitation. A pungent stench wafted off it—a mix of rot and chemical secretion. Dylan held his breath as they passed within two meters of it, noting the deep, surgical-like claw scars running across its back. Someone—or something—had mutilated it.

Suddenly, a sharp crack under Maggie's foot. The creature froze, eyes bulging, scanning the shadows. Dylan tightened his grip on his machete, ready to pounce. But before it could react, a distant howl tore through the forest—a guttural, commanding call. The small creature flinched, then bolted toward the sound, abandoning its axe as it fled.

"They're communicating…" Maggie murmured, rising to her feet.

"You think that's the civilization of this world? It didn't look very smart..." Dylan muttered back.

Maggie picked up the abandoned axe and examined it. The weapon was roughly hewn, but the bone edges had been carefully polished, as if some rudimentary intelligence had shaped them.

"Not smart maybe, but not wild either." She ran a finger along the sharp edge. "Look at this. It's been sharpened. Someone's teaching them how to fight."

Dylan shot a worried glance toward the howl's direction. Its echo seemed to ripple far beyond the trees, as if the whole forest had felt it.

"If that's true, then we've got a problem. If they've got a social structure, it means they hunt in packs… and we've just been spotted."

Maggie nodded and tossed him the axe. Dylan caught it instinctively, tested its weight, then strapped it to his pack. Always good to have a spare weapon.

"We can't stay here. Stick to the plan: head east until we find shelter. Then we reassess."

They resumed their trek, this time more cautiously, every sense on high alert. But the feeling of being watched never left them. Behind them, in the dense forest, shadows moved silently.

Something was following them.

"Let's just hope it's not that thing throwing projectiles…" Dylan thought as they pushed deeper into the forest.

If it was only these green-skinned creatures, they might stand a chance. From their gait alone, Dylan had already guessed they weren't any stronger than normal humans.

He and Maggie kept moving, weaving between the trees, trying to shake their pursuers. It went on for a while.

Then suddenly, nothing. No sound behind them.

Pressed against a large rock, Dylan leaned back slightly, heart pounding. He waited, hoping they'd give up and turn back.

But despite the silence, he knew he wasn't alone.

In the rock's shadow, a cool breeze wrapped around him, but his gaze locked on a shifting silhouette above. The projected shadow revealed furtive movements.

He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on his dagger.

There were two of them, right above. And they knew he was there.

---

The two creatures crouched silently on the rock, gripping their weapons tightly, ready to react to the slightest movement from Dylan.

They could smell him. You couldn't fool their noses that easily. One crept forward slowly, drawn by the scent of sweat.

It peeked over the edge, pausing to pinpoint its prey. The scent was strong—but where?

A flicker of confusion crossed its mind.

Then two strong hands seized its head and yanked it down. As it hit the ground, Dylan drove his dagger into its neck, deep and fast, not giving it the chance to struggle.

The smell of fresh blood hit his nostrils before the creature even realized what happened. The green-yellow creature whipped its head around, its slit pupils narrowing in the darkness. Its companion was gone. The air was heavy with silence, but the scent of death clung to the damp rock.

It growled—a low, throaty call that went unanswered. Its claws tightened on the bone axe as it crept along the rock, muscles drawn taut like wires. Instinct screamed to flee, but the hunger—always the hunger—drove it forward.

A sharp rustle to its left. It spun, weapon raised… Nothing. Just the wind toying with dry leaves.

Where are you?

A faint rustle of fabric behind it. But it was too late.

Dylan emerged from the shadows, part of the darkness itself. The creature barely dodged the first strike, the blade grazing its side. It countered with a horizontal axe swing aimed at his ribs. Dylan blocked with his forearm, the impact rattling his bones. Before it could regain the upper hand, he pivoted, using his momentum to throw it off balance.

The creature stumbled, searing pain flaring behind its knee—the dagger had severed its tendon. It collapsed, shrieking, but Dylan was already on it. One hand clamped its throat, stifling its cries, while the other pressed the blade under its jaw.

With a wet crack, the blade drove through the soft flesh, piercing the brain from the base of the skull. The body tensed—then went limp.

Dylan stood, wiping his blade on his pants. Promising himself to be more methodical next time. No wasted energy, no noise.

Maggie emerged from the bushes, one brow raised. "Clean."

He nodded, glancing at the corpses. "They're learning. Next time, they won't be so predictable."

A new howl rang out in the distance—multiplied by ten.

Maggie reloaded her pistol. "We kicked a hornet's nest."

Dylan adjusted the strap on his rifle, face like stone. "Then we burn the nest."

They disappeared into the shifting dark, like two shadows against a world hungry for their flesh.