Planet Arijog.

The beast’s eyes opened a crack, letting in a familiar blue light, before they closed once more.

Mmmmm… five more minutes.

Eighteen minutes later, give or take, it shifted once more and opened. A long tail with a mix of golden and brown scales unwrapped from its body. It stretched its arms out and with a thrust, launched itself from the sea floor. Schools of underwater creatures barely had time to make way for the beast, especially an idle creature not much larger than a fruit with its back turned. By the time it noticed, the beast snapped its teeth and consumed the creature with one bite.

The sea grew brighter as it became more shallow. It was at this point where the beast finished its journey on webbed foot and shifted itself into an upright position. The impact of its feet on floor whipped up waves and left a resounding thump with each step. The walk wasn’t long, and it approached a stone staircase that led out of the sea. The beast’s horns were the first to emerge out of the water, followed by charcoal colored hair, short with a distinctive fringe that parted at the front right side. Another step and its yellow eyes with narrow slit irises rose out of the water. It paused for a moment, scanning the area.

With the coast clear, it continued the ascent. The sea water washed over fine scales resembling tanned skin. Its broad shoulders flowed into strong upper arms, with the same golden-brown scales covering its forearms onto four-clawed webbed hands. Thick, solid muscles made up its torso and full, rounded breasts did nothing to soften her profile.

She glanced to her right, and her eyes caught the movement of a couple silhouettes moving with what looked like some sort of vision scopes. She took one more step, but this time, stomped on the stone riser. The impact sent a large wave out around her, and it crashed against the shoreline where the supposed intruders were. Her slanted, pointed ears picked up rustling from a couple trees. She growled, sharp teeth clenching into a sneer. Seconds later, the water that had been in her mouth turned into steam, which gave way to an orange glow. She took a breath in, opened her mouth wide and blasted a fireball the size of a large fruit towards the supposed hiding place. It slammed onto the ground, leaving a splash of flames in its wake. The clicking and rustling sounds vanished along with the trespassers. If they were smart, they’d keep running.

With three more steps, the beast’s hips emerged, nearly as wide as her shoulders and connected to powerful legs, golden-brown scaled shins, and massive three-pronged claws. She reached the top of the steps, her long tail was the last to exit the water. She snorted, her face slightly lean, with narrow cheeks. She took another breath and sighed, exposing sharp teeth, then breathed out a light smoke, hot air clearing out the rest of the lingering sea water in her throat.

“Go find some other fantasy figure to do yer shitty snapshots with,” said the beast, her voice rough and sharp.

Vanessa Locsolen strode up to the back entrance to her lair, a stone cave which had a large enough opening to accommodate hosting other beasts the height of a commercial truck’s trailer. The rest of her lair, more average-sized lined across the lot from either side of the back entrance with windows. On the top of her lair were a pair of chimneys, no doubt, to funnel out the excess heat generated by its owner.

The cackling of the growing fire by the shoreline caught the Beast’s attention again. She moved to the side of her backyard where piles of boulders were stacked. She reached out and grabbed one of them about the size of a vehicle, claws penetrating its surface. She curled it up and threw it. It slammed into the ground with a thump and all at once; it snuffed out the blossoming fire.

She took one more glance around the back area of her lair and then looked behind at the large body of water she came from. She paid no mind to other people using it. As long as they didn’t bother her or her home, she wouldn’t consider eating them, well, most of the time.

She strode into her lair’s kitchen through the back entrance, each of her booming steps rattling pots and pans. She turned to the counter and reached for a watch that lay on a charging station connected to a power cord as thick as a pipe in the outlet. She placed it on her wrist and its screen turned on.

“Top of the morning to you, Vanessa,” said Steve, the virtual assistant. “It is 9:41 am, Forty-one minutes after your normal start time. Shouldn’t you be working already?”

Vanessa shrugged. She was going to be working from home today, anyway.

“I swear I counted five, plus eighteen. It should have been 8:23,” said Vanessa.

“That is incorrect. The time is now 9:42 am, not 8:23 am.”

“Shut your hole,” she snapped. “I brought you, and the customer is always right. Play my Morning Beast Prep Playlist.”

The speakers on top of her cupboards played music that began with loud, long strums of guitars with powerful thumps of drums. As she stretched her limbs, grunting vocals joined the powerful tempo. Vanessa joined in with her own grunts and roars, each getting louder than the next.

“Rah, rah, fooh, rooph. Rrrr rah, rah, rah, roooooooooooooooaaaaaaar!” The volume of Vanessa’s roar shook the kitchen, though most of the tools and things that hung on the wall were well secured. Only some rattling, and dust falling from the stone ceiling in the kitchen accompanied her sound.

“You have one new work email,” Steve chimed in.

“Aye,” said Vanessa, turning towards a stone door with two hand grips. She took a hold and lifted it, pulling the large boulder out. The whoosh of cold air made her wince as the fans inside slowed to a stop. She looked around the room-sized refrigerator, and a couple of large bottles of breakfast shakes were left among the bare shelves and empty space. Frowning, she took one of the bottles and set it on the counter before placing the boulder door back on her fridge.

“Let’s hear the work email.” Vanessa pressed her thumb claw and snapped off the top, then chugged.

“From: Chloe Ceres. 20 hours ago. Hello Vanessa, it was good to meet with you the other day. I wanted to follow up and see if you had considered my offer to become the new Art Director for Macmor yet. I’ve already hired the junior designer and she will be starting as soon as she’s available. I can tell we’re going to be busy from the get go. It should be a welcome change of pace for you.”

“That’s enough, Steve.”

Vanessa snorted and puffed out a cloud of smoke. She wasn’t sure if a change of pace from her current lifestyle was something she’d like. All she knew from the offer was that she would be a boss and direct art styles for brands targeting monsters and the monstrously powered, not to mention getting a big raise. But now that the offer was there on the table, she wasn’t so sure. She enjoyed the lifestyle where she worked at her home three times a week and let other people deal with managing clients. She took a nice long look at the sea in the back as the sun rose on the horizon with forest and beach land on each side. She leaned on the doorway and drank the rest of the vanilla-flavored milkshake.

“Nothing beats being in the buff by the sea,” she said, crushing the two and a half gallon jug in her hands and chucking it in the recycling bin.

She strode into her creative space, which was half living room, half working space. In the middle was a couch with more than enough room to hold her tall body and then some with a television mounted on the wall. Then on the side was a desk with a computer in a metallic tower case with two large display screens encased in a shiny material, almost like silver. Beside the desk was a shelf holding a rock guitar on the bottom, along with microphone stands and an amp. On the upper shelves, displays of photos, art prints, and woodwork with burn-on art. She reached for an old photo of her younger self, sitting in between her parents on the edge of a bank with trees around them as they watched the sun rise. They had woken her early that morning just so that they could do that, which had really pissed her off. She sighed; she really missed those times.

As for the here and now, there were still primal needs to be met before she can start her work day. She took a hard step; it sent a violent jolt through her lair, leaving a few cracks on walls and a deep footprint on her kitchen floor. Vanessa sneered at the sight and the sounds of a few things dropping and breaking onto the ground.

“Shit. Hey, Steve, turn on that anti-gravity field around me.”

“Which setting?”

“Normal.”

A blue pulse emerged from the watch and covered her. She shivered for a moment and adjusted herself as her body now moved more nimble and fluid like the sea she swam in. She took a couple more steps; this time the heavy booms became much lighter thumps. She couldn’t wrap her head around how a battery-powered watch could make her weight in the tons become pounds. It was fairly common for Arijogs and other heavy people to use tech like this, lest her home be nothing but mashed rock and rubble and that’s not accounting for her strength. With her weight lighter, she went into another room that had her wardrobe. She dried herself off with a towel and pulled out a dark-green workout bodysuit made from flexicarb. She purposely chose a size lower for a tight fit and made sure to choose one with a low cut at the top. It only served to her advantage to distract potential prey while she went in for the kill.

***

Vanessa jogged out from the cylinder-shaped stone entrance at the front her lair.

“Alright Steve, secure the lair and up the anti-grav field to full-power mode,” she said.

“Done,” said Steve.

The light thumps quieted to human-like steps as the jog turned into a sprint. She, bent her legs, leaned forward and launched herself up into the air.

Vanessa had called Mordrac Forest her home for as long as she remembered. As she ascended into the air, it spread out wide like a map. Behind her and curving to her right was Behemoth Bay, which also had a beach where some of the fellow forest and beastly dwellers do their morning exercises, train, and battle against one another. On her left on the horizon was Korangar City, where she’d catch the LSR: Commuter Light-Speed Rail if she had to go to the Green Ventures Unlimited Campus. And just ahead was a valley of Bomm Trees. The rise from her jump peaked and she entered freefall, spreading her legs and arms wide as the air streamed around her body. She brought her legs forward, braced herself and stuck her landing with a thump, then stood up straight, stretching.

She took a sniff and picked up notes of something sweet. Good, she landed close to the Bomm Trees. It took her about a two-minute run before she reached the field. Vanessa crouched and settled within a group of tall bushes surrounding a thick tree. Her dark-green bodysuit, along with her golden-brown scales over her hands and forearms helped her to blend in. Her tail slithered across the ground, waiting for the first group of prey to take the risk and offer themselves up. She was very late, but someone would eventually be out for a break or needed a snack. It only took another twenty minutes before she spotted movement behind the bushes across from where she hid.

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The first person had dark green scales all over the back of his body and his tail, with a lighter shade of green lined across the front of his legs, torso and arms. He was a grass-type Arijog, taller than Vanessa, with a lean build and wearing only a pair of jeans. A sling hung around his shoulder, which held a photo camera that mounted a lens the size of a large pipe. With his hands and claws as large as they were, they could easily grip the lens. He wore a large dark-colored backpack.

Next to the grass-type Arijog, was an Arhtom. She rotated and pushed her way out into the open next to him. She was about as tall as the green Arijog’s chest level, but when she stretched her large wings, it made her look wider than she was. Her antenna on the top of her head reached up almost to the Arijog’s eye level. She had a slender build for her species and sported two pairs of arms. Rings of brown fur adorned her neck with the rest of her body being lined with fuzz. She had on a pair of beige shorts with a brown t-shirt and wore a belt with large pouches around her waist.

Vanessa glared at them. It must have been those two who took shots of her in the buff earlier.

“We should take a break,” said the Arijog.

The Arhtom unclasped her storage belt and let it fall to the ground. “Athan, why can’t you be the one to carry this stuff?” she said.

“I have to arm myself and be ready to shoot at anything that comes out. You know how it is, Fian.”

“Maybe you should purchase an extra set of arms for yerself and let them worry about carrying stuff.”

To demonstrate, Fian pulled out her camera from a socket on her waist belt with one set of hands and gestured with her other set of hands outwards.

“Maybe with a mechanical pair?” joked Athan.

“You just need to exercise more,” said Fian, who stretched out her back.

Athan brought the camera close to him and pressed a button, which turned on the screen.

Fian’s wings fluttered, and she hovered behind Athan. “Let me see?”

He pointed the back of the camera towards Fian. His photographic partner pouted, tilted her head and she nodded.

“It’s a good shot,” Fian admitted. “You got her as she was coming out from the water. That splash effect as she’s coming out is really good, but I don’t know if they’d go for her muscles. But, they should offer something since she has some boobs anyway.”

Vanessa clenched her teeth. Least mine are bigger than yours, you little bug.

Athan sighed and sat down, resting his back on the trunk of a tree. “Whatever sells. I had hoped we’d find some clues to solve that puzzle of The Behemoth of the Bay.”

“You’re still on about that urban legend?”

Fian landed and sat next to the Arijog. She reached into one of the storage pouches to offer Athan a dried stick of meat.

Athan shook his head and reached over to pull out a canteen. “No meat please.”

“Suit yerself.” She bit in and chewed.

“The shot I took before we almost got burned would be nothing if we solved the puzzle. They say that during a terrible storm, it awoke the sleeping behemoth who emerged from the sea and towered over the land. Each of its steps were felt through the entire region and the fire it breathed lit up the night sky in a green haze.”

“If that were true, the forest wouldn’t be here,” said Fian. “It was some fire or explosion took out the entire island and sank it, never to be seen again. It was so powerful, it blew out windows in the city.” Fian took another bite and stretched.

Vanessa remembered this and had heard about the urban legend. But it was pretty obvious that a beast that large would have been noticed. Yet, there was no record of such a beast.

“But there were survivors who said otherwise,” said Athan. “With the weather being so bad, no one could tell. Either way, investigations couldn’t figure out the direct cause other than the factory explosion and the radiation readings around where the island sank.”

“I was just a wee little larva with my siblings and we shivered from the thunder, lightning, and quakes. So scary, I thought we would be crushed by Mother Nature’s fury.”

Vanessa could agree it was the worst weather ever, with floods and all. She placed her head on her hand, as a slight pain throbbed in her temples. Maybe she’d already burnt off the calories from the shake and needed more carbs.

After Athan took another draw from his canteen, he sniffed. Vanessa shifted herself lower and kept still. Maybe she hadn’t given enough attention to the grass-type’s sense of smell.

Athan stood up and took a few more sniffs.

“What is it?” asked Fian.

Athan looked around, then up. His eyes bulged out and his mouth dropped. “Bomm Fruits, what luck. They’re not ripe yet.”

Fian grinned. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I’m thinking we can resell these and get a nice payout.”

Fian put back on her belt and she flew up while Athan climbed the tree towards the square shaped melon-fruits. Fian hovered and reached for the fruit with two hands. When she pulled, the stem snapped, and she bobbled it. It slipped out of her hands and fell. A green tail wrapped around it and held tight, letting it swing back and forth like a pendulum before it slowed.

“That was close. Yer a real farm boy, you know that?” said Fian.

“Thanks, I think,” said Athan.

Fian lowered herself and took the fruit with her lower hands. “As for this, it has more than enough juice inside to hydrate an entire family of Arthom for at least a week. I don’t want to drown in it, thanks.”

“It pays to not drop it, for safety reasons,” said Athan, pocketing a Bomm fruit.

Vanessa’s smile grew in anticipation, but to her disappointment, the two photographers extracted a good number of fruits from her tree like experienced harvesters on the farm. By her count, the grass-type managed to fit eight in his backpack while his friend only packed away three. None of the fruits landed on the ground. She had to think of something fast if her trap didn’t do anything to incapacitate her prey.

She rose slightly, placing one hand on the ground, feet back, shifting into an attack stance. She’d have to jump on them after they got back down. That would be the best opportunity to get something out of her grocery run. Naturally, she set her sights on the larger Arijog first, and hopefully she could catch the Arhtom with her tail before she took to the air again. She glanced at her tail and shifted it behind her.

The ground shuddered. Vanessa checked her footing and didn’t spot anything out of place. It was probably something scurrying away. She didn’t pay much heed and resumed her watch on her prey. The ground shook again, and again. Each thump grew stronger and louder than the last.

The hanging Bomm fruit swerved side to side before claws gripped and pushed aside the trees. Two more Arijogs emerged. Similar to Vanessa, their fair-colored, finely textured scales resembled human skin that transitioned into coarse scales of a dark-brown color. Her well-trained designer’s eyes cringed at the sight of both ground-types wearing blue colored shorts and yellow shirts: a terrible color match-up which made them stick out like artificially fused blueberry-lemons.

The female ground-type was taller than Vanessa but an average height for an Arijog, with brown eyes, shoulder-length brown hair, and a stocky build. She held up a phone, holding its multi-megapixel camera in front, and moved it side to side before spotting Athan and Fian.

“Found them! Come Rigar, they’re here, they’re here,” she roared. Her energetic voice carried through the area.

The male Arijog Rigar was taller than Athan with a larger build, brown eyes, and short brown hair. He raised his phone in Fian’s direction. “Look at that Arhtom’s wings. Brown with circle patterns. It has to be a rare one, we’ll get at least 20,000 points on her,” he roared.

Sounds of wings flapping and feet scurrying away filled the area around Vanessa along with the reality of her grocery list items literally running away from her. She snarled, and made a growl, her mouth began to spew smoke but she quickly covered it and instead snorted the smoke through her nose.

“Rolla, shoot her in the app. What does it say?” asked Rigar.

She aimed her phone’s camera at Fian and tapped the screen.

“Arhtom. It attracts potential prey using its wings and uses its natural secretions to capture. Level of rarity: High, 28,000 points,” said the App.

“That’s enough to get that junior master ribbon that I’ve been saving up for, sweet.” Rolla stepped in close but recoiled as Fian made a loud hiss. “Whoa there, I never tried Arhtom this spicy before. I wonder how you taste? Are you from this region? What sauce goes well with you?”

“Stay away from me, yer greedy grounder,” hissed Fian. She balled up her lower hands into fists and armed her photo camera, popping the flash up. The flash charged up with a high-pitched whistle.

“Oh, you use that as a camera. How many megapixels does it have on it?” asked Rolla.

“It’s not the Megapixels that matter, but the quality of the shot.” Fian aimed, and took the shot. With the flash at point blank range, it fired a bright strobe.

Rolla covered her eyes and roared, spewing fire out of her mouth. “Augh! What did you shoot me with?”

Vanessa clenched her teeth and almost jumped as the flames radiated out, barely missing the trees.

Rigar stood next to Rolla and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down sis, why do you always have to make a habit of flirting and making a scene with yer food?”

Rolla rubbed her eyes and reopened them, then wagged her finger claw side to side.

“There’s no fun in just eating everything on the plate in one go, brother. So, what does it say about him? He’s a grass-type right?”

Rigar aimed his phone at Athan and tapped the screen.

“Arijog, grass-type. In spite of its larger size, its energy, and food requirements are much lower in comparison to other Arijog of its strength level due to its energy efficient physiology and energy absorption from light. Most are non-meat eaters. Level of rarity: Medium-Low, 2500 points.”

“That he is,” said Rigar. “After this catch, I’ll be up to eighty-one different creatures.”

“Seventy-six for me,” said Rolla. She turned towards Fian again and sneered at her. “That was a nice trick, Arhtom. Maybe after I eat you, I can get some use out of that thing. What’s the best way to cook you?”

“You’ll get in big trouble if you try to eat me,” said Fian.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, really. My species is designated as endangered and I live in a green zone. The authorities will come if you even think of taking a bite out of me.”

Rigar and Rolla looked at each other in surprise and, for the next few minutes, they tapped and scrolled through their phone screens.

Vanessa sighed heavily, not just because the two were spending a lot of time researching that claim, but the prey weren’t using that distraction to run.

“Ah ha,” exclaimed Rolla. “The app says that if you’re in a hunting zone on Arijog, you have to have a green card or a permit to prove you can’t be prey, otherwise you’re fair game.”

“Even if you are rare and endangered,” added Rigar.

“Those are the rules of the game.”

“So, you got proof?”

Fian reached into her pouches with her lower two hands, and searched, and dug. Sweat formed on her forehead as she patted all of her hip pockets. After double-checking her pockets, she shrugged and smiled innocently.

Rolla and Rigar stalked closer, but then Rolla’s head tilted up, her brown eyes lowered and locked onto Vanessa’s.

Vanessa shifted back, trying to stay hidden, but Rolla stomped over with a big smile on her face to Vanessa’s hiding spot and waved at her.

“Hello over there!” Rolla sang-roared, blowing away pieces of the bush revealing Vanessa’s crouched form. “How long were you waiting there for?”

Vanessa slowly stood up as smoke billowed from her nose.

“Come on, you can’t be sitting on your arse like that if you want to eat. You actually have to attack your prey before you can eat them. I can teach you the ways,” said Rolla.

“The only thing you idiots can teach is how to be louder than a fucking jumbo jet, “ said Vanessa. “Or could you be louder, just so the moon can hear you?”

“Are you into the game, too? I didn’t see you on-line,” asked Rigar.

“What game?” said Vanessa.

Rigar thrust out his phone, which showed the game’s home screen: “Hunt’n Eats.”

He sang. “We’ve traveled so far and wide to eat all the rarities. To get the points and understand the savings all inside. Hunt’n Eats: Gotta—“

“Rigar, less singing, more eating,” whined Rolla.

“But everything about this game is great. The soundtrack, the social sharing, the points, the rewards, and you can team up with other hunters on yer friends’ list for a group hunt.”

Vanessa snorted. “You and yer games. Have you even hunted a fucking day without a computer in yer bloody hands?”

“It’s better to hunt with more people,” said Rolla. “The more things we find, take pictures, and eat, the more points and rewards we get.”

Vanessa groaned. “Points don’t get me breakfast, lass.”

“Come on, don’t be that hot about it. We can give you a piece, right, brother?”

“Maybe.”

“Hey, who wants a Splash Bomm?” Athan called to the other three Arijog.

“Sure,” said Rolla.

“I’d like one,” said Rigar.

For a moment, Vanessa had thought they had containers of Bomm Juice, until she realized what they really meant. Athan and Fian each held a Bomm Fruit, armed and ready to fire.

By the time Vanessa moved, the fruits were already airborne while their prey escaped. As the two siblings stood awaiting their refreshments, Vanessa tried in vain to clear the area while the pair of square, melon-sized fruits approached the ground. It was that point of impact when she realized her breakfast had fucked her up.