The apex feasted and the crunching sound of bone and flesh drowned out the sound of rustling leaves. It tossed its head back and let the meat slide down its gullet, enjoying every carnal moment of feeding. It didn’t do it to sate hunger -it had been created without the need to drink, sleep, or eat- it did it for fun. The flesh tasted delightful, and it intended to save the head for last: it had a wonderful crunch and a burst of flavor when it was eaten in one bite.

Four amber eyes were emanating their own light and took in the area around the beast. From the eyes on the top and bottom of its head, it was able to see most of the area, though it still had a few blind spots. A flash of movement in a distant tree notified it of fresh prey. When it focused its attention, it identified it as one of the extra crunchy - and intoxicating - elves. It stood in the branches of a tree. The apex took care not to rush the elf and warn it of its presence. That would delay the feast with a chase. The apex casually turned its head back to the carcass and took another bite while watching the elf. When the elf glanced away, the apex contained its thrill and soundlessly slipped away from its kill to begin stalking the elf.

It kept a vigilant eye on its environment as it stalked its prey and was completely silent, despite its size. While it crept forward, it sniffed the air gently, picking up the faint scent of the elf. So far, it seemed to be alone.

Perfection.

The beast felt a chill run up its spine and choked down a purr of pleasure. Already its jaws were oozing sizzling saliva down to the forest floor. It was close to the elf and relishing in the moment before it would abandon stealth to overwhelm and kill. It stepped between two trees to get a better position to pounce and felt its back foot slip a little in the soft earth. The apex noted with minor irritation that the earth was extra muddy and would make every step feel wrong. It adjusted its foot for the next step, and found the earth there to be solid. Good, the elf was nearly close enough to pounce on now.

The next step felt like mud again, making the apex pause; the terrain shouldn’t have been so uneven. The bottom eyes swiveled to investigate what was happening with the ground. Confusion filled its mind as it tried to make sense of the sight it saw: its ankle was bleeding badly with a severed tendon exposed to the air. It took in the sight, noting the earth was also dry, save for a trail of its own black blood.

I didn’t slip in the mud. I’ve been wounded.

The apex tried to wriggle its foot, only to find that it could only tighten its claws and could not guide its steps more than planting its foot straight on the ground. Its other foot worked fine, but there was a disturbing lack of sensation from its injured side.

The top pair of eyes suddenly lost sight of the elf and the apex set upon searching the canopy, where the elf had completely vanished. It sniffed, taking in the scents and parsing out unwanted subjects. There had to be at least two elves, one in the trees and the other that had struck it while it had been distracted. The scents confirmed its suspicion, but nothing more. It focused on the stronger scent and snapped its gaze to a nearby tree where it became much stronger. It had to be wary now, since they had proven to be able to harm it. There were faint smells wafting in the air that could be other elves.

How many are there?

The apex remained defensive even as its ankle continued to bleed. The absence of pain was a boon and allowed it to stay focused on searching the area. The top eyes scoured the trees while the bottom pair searched the ground for the other elf. It was only a matter of time until one of them moved. The forest was silent save for its own breathing and the soft blowing breeze; it would make any sound significantly more pronounced.

It heard a heavy thump and tumble behind it and to the right and turned its head, feigning interest - the sound of a thrown rock wasn’t going to fool it. It committed to the bait by tensing its body as if it were ready to pounce and lowered its stance.

You aren’t as clever as you think.

The apex drooled as it counted. Soon they would try and spring an ambush and it would strike. It carefully crept towards the sound, waiting for any sign. The smell of elf-blood flooded its nose as it got closer to the source of the sound, interrupting its count and causing it to pause in confusion.

Was it an injured elf after all? Did it fall from the tree?

It started to doubt itself and was torn between actually investigating the possibility or baiting the elf to reveal itself. The blood drew its attention and made it hard to focus on anything else.

Blood, it has to be an elf.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It had fallen from a tree and, based on the lack of any further sounds, it must have knocked itself out. The apex approached carefully, but with every hobbling step it quickened in eagerness. Whichever elf it was that fell from the tree would be the appetizer, with its ankle slashing friend being the extended main course. It neared the source of the scent and began to hear a pounding on a tree behind it: the other elf desperately hammering away to try and draw the apex toward it.

Foolish thing. Wait your turn.

It smiled, seeping caustic drool to the forest floor. The excitement was building and the scent of blood was all-consuming now and nothing would save the fallen elf. The great beast’s head snaked around the tree, ready to rip and tear.

It’s a blood-covered rock.

Alarm and disappointment filled the apex: it had fallen for the bait. The apex had enough time to raise its head before it heard the release of bowstrings. The sound of at least four bows going off at once alerting it to numerous hunters.

As the arrows hit their mark, it roared out in surprise, then anger. It struggled to dodge the attack as it heard another barrage go off, and another, and again. Surprise built into full panic, though it still could not feel pain. It flailed and partly dragged itself around another tree, seeking cover.

What’s happening?!

The apex turned to look over its shoulder - it needed to know how many arrows had hit - but the sight of sixteen arrows protruding from deep in its own hide filled it with fear. There was just enough time to recognize that the arrows were actually deep enough to draw blood before more started sprouting from its back. It quickly sought and found the source of the arrows. They were firing from the canopy, the elves blending into the thick foliage as if part of it somehow. With targets in sight, surprise gave way to a boiling fury rising from within the apex and it let out a guttural howl as it crouched down.

Extra elf-treats.

As it prepared to pounce, a sudden silence fell over the world and it felt vibrations spread through its body from its legs. The adrenaline pounded through it and it was far too angry to back down now. Just as suddenly, sound returned and all that was left to do was kill the elves in the canopy. The apex pushed off the ground with all of its considerable might - and a horribly loud crack came from its legs just before it crashed to the ground.

Why? WHY?!

The apex tried to pick itself off the ground, only to find its footing so unstable that it couldn't begin to find purchase. A sick feeling speared its way into its mind; it was just like when it had slipped before. This time it pushed its arms out and anchored its claws to the earth. It was feeling weaker with blood loss. Its legs below the ankle were horribly mangled with slashes and bones protruding from its attempted jump. The apex had to kill the elves, and it had to kill them fast. It locked eyes on an elf standing behind him, far enough to be just out of reach. It smiled as it slashed its blade at the air, splattering black blood on the ground.

Both times it was you!

The apex abandoned pursuing the tree elves in a single-minded pursuit of the blade-wielding elf. It had to kill it, then it could kill everything else. With a frightening surge of speed, the apex turned and cleaved through a foot of wood next to the elf’s head. The elf ducked the blow, rolling away and around the tree. The apex stabbed the protruding bones from its leg into the earth and hurled itself after the elf with a sickening crack, slashing wildly and splitting thousand-year-old trees nearly to their cores with each swing. The elf continued evading each swing narrowly, causing the apex to scream out with each strike, unable to contain its rage.

The elf dodged once more, rolling under the claws and out to the side of the apex. It thrashed, stabbing with its claws and even spearing with the exposed bones of its legs.

Where is it?

The only blood on the ground was its own: no elf parts or gore. Another screech of rage escaped the apex’s maw unbidden as it continued decimating the undergrowth with mad strength. It blindly followed the direction of the elf’s scent, trusting its raw fury to guide it. The elf sprang from behind the very next tree, rolling and darting with incredible speed.

The screeching apex whipped its maw around and spat a stream of caustic saliva at the elf. It saw that the shot was true and heaved itself to the side of both the elf and the tree it had hidden behind, desperate to trap the elf. The apex knew the elf could either dodge the caustic spit or the apex, but not both.

Now die!

The apex pounced, claws ready to reap, maw open wide. It saw, in slow motion, the spit land perfectly on target - passing straight through the elf and dispersing it into a cloud of smoke.

Tricked. Again.

Despair set in even before it hit the ground, tumbling legs over head with the force it had flung itself with. It heard the snapping of arrow shafts across its body and noticed the blood loss was much less now. That was good because it meant that the damage wasn’t so bad.

The bow elves were circling in the treetops, their cloaks covering them in foliage to match the trees as they moved. The apex tried to stand and nearly toppled over. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It hissed, no longer able to muster a roar. The apex could see the dimming light in the corners of its vision.

How did you do this?

The elf appeared from behind the same tree as before, strolling toward the apex languorously and watching it with bliss shining from within its dark eyes; it was the satisfaction of the predator that knew it had won.

Is it even really standing there now?

The apex weakly reached out with its claws - those shears that had nearly toppled massive trunks - and tried one last time to reach the elf. It didn’t move or respond, but simply stood in place.

It's not real. Another trick.

The elf had tricked it again and again.The apex’s arm fell before it could reach the elf and its world faded to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thu’lain twisted the ruby-red gem in the hilt of his dagger, dispelling its effects. He observed the tremendous damage the apex had taken before its body shut down: its hide was devastated by over fifty arrows; its legs were nearly unrecognizable with how many times it had pounded them to get traction; the claws were cracked from impacts with the trees; and it wouldn’t surprise him to find nearly every organ ruptured.

It matched up with his other findings: the apex’s bodies were generally able to hold up to massive punishment before they failed. Any normal creature’s body would have broken down less than halfway through, regardless of whether or not he used the Flayer to deny pain. He carefully cleaned the enchanted dagger and gauged the essence remaining in it by the glow of the gem before putting it away.

Seventy percent or so. Efficient.

He nodded to Anar’dea, who’d just come down from the canopy.

“Decent hunt.”