Below the beautiful cosmos that curls around absolute life, the dark clouds shroud the majestic expanse in a shadowy ceiling, a bold declaration of segregation from those who dwell on the soil and those who soar freely through the infinite, leaving only pockets of white stars and purple nebulas swarmed by the black bordering fog.

In the distance quietly rumbles the drums of a looming storm, not present yet but certainly approaching. Yet as of the time there is no rain, not even a drizzle, for all there was in the night was silence, nearly perfect all but for the gentle breezes.

Below the dark clouds shrouding the great beyond, all the way down on the surface stands three grand cones made of a dark gray metal, all three cones standing on enormous white towers that are all joined in an amalgamation held by a shorter yet vastly wider white base about half of the towers’ size, and on the peak of the base is a smooth rooftop also made of the dark gray metal in a triangular prismatic structure similar to that of an ancient private residence. Yet regardless of the similar shapes, much of the building was far from outdated, for in fact not there was a single visible window, or any decals on the surface of the building for that matter. Instead, the material was perfectly smooth without scratches, so pure that it’s surreal.

Standing on the spacious peach driveway surface warping around the building, a porch made of the same white material as most of the manor’s exterior wraps around the central tower which also happens to be the widest of the three which make the shape resembling a crown. The porch has an overhang extending from the curved walls of the tower which then protrude pillars all around the sides yet leaves an opening in the center where the black door stands.

Far behind the house stands a distant forest dense with trees with a green umbrella hanging above wavering with the trees from the wind, where the yard lays over the grass field dark from the unlit skies. In front of the house in the center of the peach driveway is a oval-shaped garden full of thick bushes and vivid plants, and inside the ring of vegetation resides a dirtless pool of unlit water behind a circular fountain with a lightning bolt-shaped rod that continuously projects water radially like an umbrella to feed the fountain which in turn feeds the pool with a short waterfall.

All the sudden, a flash of light flickers over the surrounding area before the home which primarily illuminates the lightning rod over the fountain, and in the later moments of the trailing thunderous roar reveals that hovering in front of the manor several stories high looms a humanoid silhouette. Over the being’s shoulder violently waves a cape from the stormy breeze, a unique cape with trimmed bumps along the bottom edge similar to the inwardly curved wings of a demon.

Like a pendulum but being brushed towards one side only, the cape waves over and beside the silhouette, and when the cape is most along the silhouette’s shoulder, it exposes a multitudinal network of radiating red streaks coursing on the body, two wrapping from the chest down to the waist, and one along the inners thigh which branches off twice to the outer thighs.

Stalking the house whilst levitating comfortably beyond reach, the silhouette simply watches down at the house, studying it methodically and meticulously, as if seeking something even from the outside.

Below the drifting dark cape rests a hand gloved in metallic dark silver with small chains so dark that it nearly appears to be made of obsidian yet has a faint crimson coloration wrapping around the knuckles and palm.

After a few prolonged moments to study over what has already been analyzed, to double check what at first appears and should be a faulty conclusion, the hand curls into a tight fist, its own fingernails digging into its palm as a silent show of indignation.

Like a phantom, an illusion in the night, the caped shadow ascends straight up over the highest roof of the manor, the central tower, and after reaching above it then glides forth over the building and temporarily pauses once above the roof.

On the complete conal rooftop there is not a single dent or scratch on the smooth dark gray material, as though nothing had even touched it.

Similar to the highest roof, neither of the other two towertops had a scratch on their cone roof, and the triangular prismatic roof further down over the base of the manor too was spotless and completely intact.

Through radiating red lenses shaped similarly to parallelograms albeit for the bottom line being curved upward to more resemble a triangle–with outwardly curved streaks protruding from the center edge of both lenses up the black mask–the being glares below a dark crimson hood that continues and broadens the two streaks with curves that represent goat horns.

In resumption the silhouette starts gliding forward, drifting past the conal towers and then past the expansive base of the mansion. Finally it reaches beyond the building and over the backyard, first gliding over the stone patio where the two hovering chairs sit under the umbrella, and then over the grassy field.

Trailing the peach driveway that extends to the thicker forestation at the far border of the yard, the silhouette coasts over the vast garden of diversely shaped and colored plants placed around the stone path all surrounding the central pool fountain.

Previously dim, the stonish statue standing over the fountain of the man carrying the model of the supersun surrounded by the orbiting globes on its back shimmers under the red light coming from above, which casts the supersun being held red opposite from its true colors as well as the surrounding globes.

As the light source illuminating the statue moves further away, relinquishing its glint over the carrier, the entity floats over the broader peach driveway section in front of the three large metallic sheds that reside right in front of the front line of trees.

Ultimately, the silhouette comes to a halt, remaining airborne yet no longer coasting back nor forth. Instead, it lowers its head down to the sheds past the driveway, and stalks it for several moments silent until distant drum rolls of thunder pass by.

Even after the thunder rolls however the silhouette remains still, staring down at the sheds in silence, gazing over the quiet surface of the prey’s home.

Inside a dark room completely unlit, abruptly a hole is opened in the ceiling from the complete crumbling of the metallic roof, and above the debris of the dark room is the dark crimson jagged sole of the silver boot, stomping straight through the roof effortlessly as it leaves the remains of the hole in small shards of metal below the jagged surface.

That silver boot descends further down with all three mineral buckles, for the whole figure plummets straight to the surface.

Without resistance the figure drops to the floor of the dark room, and the red glow emitting off its own body dimly illuminates the room around it, revealing the room to be vast with the silver walls only a several feet away, about the size of a garage. Not beside nor behind the shadowy figure stands any shelves or tables along the walls of the room.

In the center of the room itself is nothing, for while the room appears to represent a garage it is absent of any vehicles contained.

Instead, the metal fragments of the broken roof area and the silver boot stand on the silver floor rather than the roof of the vehicle that should be in the center of the room.

Inside the dimly lit red garage, the sole figure stands in the center of the empty garage, its head creepily turning to survey the interior, viewing nothing but smooth walls, a completely hollow garage with no indication of presence.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Still silent, the being observes the vacant garage, for now the truth is beginning to settle in, an undesirable and irritating truth, but even then hardly the surface was scratched on the magnitude of its definition. It pivots its hips to glance at the other side of the garage, yet it finds no satisfactory scene. It only glares through its bright devilish red eyes at the desolate corners of the room, finding no trace of life, to which it vents an animalistic and demonic grunt.

Left with no other choice, the red figure raises its left hand in front of itself, and suddenly a controlled burst of red flames releases from its silver palms, which then immediately shapes into a slim white device shaped similarly to a pregnancy test although in the center is an oval red panel and on the tip rather than a film instead is a sharp needle.

It then raises its right arm up beside its left arm with its scaly crimson underside facing up. Then oddly enough the central chain on the being’s forearm bursts into red flames, and under it an circle burns up on the crimson suit material itself, and as the sparks drift away it reveals a circular aperture in the forearm of the suit, exposing healthy genuine Caucasian skin.

Determined to no end, the red figure suddenly plunges the needle of the device straight into its skin through the gap made, letting it pierce its body with a minor grunt in response.

Regardless of the fact that the method of acquisition is vastly outdated by centuries, for no modern equipment would require penetration of skin for such a task, the design was intentful in a twistingly artistic sense beyond mere efficiency. Piercing the body was in blatant terms entirely unnecessary, and objectively nonoptimal, but those factors were undervalued in this artist’s work, who drew from a different perspective. A mind so mangled and contorted beyond the comprehension of sanity, the intent of the decision itself wasn’t so simply decipherable, only that the decision had been made, and it had been deemed superior to all others.

Keeping the needle inside its body, the figure holds both of its arms still for several moments, waiting patiently alone in the garage. Its red eyes stare straight at the needle, specifically at the point in which it penetrates its human hide.

After a few seconds, the red panel in the center of the device suddenly shines green, and a quiet beep sound emits from the device.

Upon receiving the alert, the red figure pulls the device out of its body, leaving behind a miniscule hole in its arm, but after removing the device a petite red spark flashes over the hole, and after fading it reveals the hole covered up.

It holds the device out in front of itself, and from the top edge opposite from the needle, a dark crimson holographic flat screen projects, first displaying a simple loading screen with the text ‘EXTRACTING CONTENTS . . .’ above a bar that gradually fills red from left to right, indicating progression.

On the exposed arm, the healed skin flares red before releasing a blaze that wraps around its arm before transmuting to cover up the hole in the armor while also recreating the missing chain wrapping over it.

With the acquisition made, the right arm is lowered, and the being’s gaze centers on the holographic screen, watching the bar fill to completion.

After the progress bar is completed, text then changed to display ‘E-50 LVL 10 ACCESS KEY AUTHORIZING . . .’ above a newly empty bar that then also gradually fills red from the same direction, albeit at a much greater rate as this process seems far easier to complete, as in seconds it is filled all the way.

Alas the holographic screen is raised up and the text transitions to ‘PROBING FOR LEVEL 1 MATCHES’ above an ellipsis, and below it projects a second screen–this one initially flat and depicting a minimalistic map with basic lines forming a network of roads and sparse rectangular shapes representing residences.

Nearly after the map is formed, it is zoomed out rapidly, as in seconds the houses are no longer visible and instead there are contour curves to depict the distant mountains, but even then quickly the map is further zoomed out, and as it is the screen begins to wrap around into a globe, to which the red figure makes a hassled grunt.

After the map is formed into a sphere which resembles the Earth, that sphere then spins in all directions, but after doing so the Earth begins to shrink, and as it does more globes begin to appear from above and below, similar to a birds eye view, and at first they appear in jumbled order but the as more appear with each being shrunk the more they appear to form a thick arc.

Growls of discontent rise from the crimson devil as more globes appear on the enlarging hologram of the solar system, so much so that the arc extends longer with more curve, and in the inner corner is an even larger globe to represent the sun. Still, the arc gets more full of smaller worlds, for the scan still requires greater seeking to which the growls become louder and more irascible.

Growling through the long red vent on the black mask curved down to the center along the jaw to create the shape of an unsettling smile, the crimson devil’s wrath grows with the map, until the arc builds to an entire ring, showcasing more planets on the other side of the initial point in space.

A few seconds after zooming out to include all the worlds between the starting world and the origin the zooming eventually halts, to which the growling temporarily subsides in intrigue and anticipation, for at first it seems the destination has been located.

In front of the holographic map of the solar system, a new flat hologram appears with simple text which withholds, ‘EGA LVL 9 ACCESS KEY DEFICIENT!’ although deviant from the other screens it lacks a progression bar, indicating that there would be no such simple steps forward.

Red flames swarm the inflamed being, who growls with deep seeded discontent at the news broken out to it. Flames dance all around the metallic garage, all emitting off of a singular source, whose red eyes glare straight ahead at the exit. It brings both of its arms together as if flexing them, but in reality contains all of the rage within it, and the device in its hand cracks with radiating red ravines.

Off of its shoulders, thicker twin streams of red flames project off and curl, shaped similarly to an arm, and from the red blaze manifests a pair of enormous arms just barely able to fit inside the garage, with a red fleshy texture forming over its surface overlaid with black minerals dotted around its shoulders, upper arms, forearms, and backhand. Both arms are curled up, their shoulders behind the wielder but their tightly clenched fists in front.

Consumed in fury, the red figure roars demonically and throws both arms outward and erases the device in its hand in a small blazing explosion synchronous with the movements of the larger arms, which smash straight through the silver walls, shattering it into miniscule shards and entirely dismantling the entire shed to reveal the dark night outside.

Fragments of the shed rain down on the soft green grass around the crimson devil who roars and bellows with its arms thrown out below the extended arms of its creation, which are raised above the two neighboring sheds, high and mighty.

Facing the back of the mansion on the other side of the stone statue in the center of the vast garden, the crimson devil releases all its fury into the black sky, where in the distance behind the manor is the full white moon, the sole source of light that gleams back on it among the pockets of scattered stars tearing apart.

At last the incense concludes as the devil hunches forward and lowers its arms, to which both of the titanic arms around it cease in flames too, leaving only the wreckage of the garage where its target had taken its escape. But that was only momentary.

Provoked still with rampage, the crimson devil leans upright, and faces back up to the sky, up into the infinite beyond where somewhere there would be the target, even if it wasn’t sure where.

Standing in between the two remaining sheds, the devil suddenly leaps stories high in a red burst, leaving an explosion of dust and dirt on the ground as the red ray bolts straight into the abyss in the direction of the moon.

In seconds the head of the ray passes straight through the clouds, and the streak left on the ground dissipates to insinuate departure. Soon after the entire streak visible from the Earth’s surface fades as the ray is fired straight out of the planet, vanishing completely as it too makes its way beyond the borders of its former home for its hatred was boundless to the atmosphere.

Nowhere could one hide forever.

Nowhere could one be safe forever.

Now, the predator had begun its hunt for the prey, no matter how hard it had to work to know where it was, and no matter what had to be sacrificed in its conquest.

For now, the chase had truly begun.