Norman slid down a galvanised roof, rolling onto the awaiting floor with cat-like grace. Both actions were not entirely silent.

_CHAT

* ARN74: i thought you said those things don’t slip or make noise. you just slipped down a roof and it made a little noise, you filthy liar. stop acting like you’re Him. try an’ call your girlfriend for help. i gun be glaaad if something happens to you for being a pigheaded male, yuh hard ears

Norman sighed, then whispered: “You know, Arn74, from the moment you showed up in the chat, I thought you were a purebred troll. Then I got to know you a little better.”

_CHAT

* ARN74: … and?

“And what?” smirked Norman.

_CHAT

* ARN74: [CENSORED]

“In any case, you raise a valid point,” Norman chuckled. “I said: ‘what if you could stomp around as much as you want without making a sound?’ I wasn’t stomping. I was sliding, deliberately. Prowlers are a bit like Heelys. At the right angle, you can slide with them. It’s worth noting that the prowlers themselves didn’t make a sound so much as my body did, sliding against the metal. I also said ‘as you can see, so long as you have a stable surface, prowlers do not slip’. If, say, you’re running on gravel like I am right now, I can’t guarantee there’ll be no slippage. Even so, notice anything strange?”

Norman looked down, highlighting the gravel on which he ran soundlessly.

_CHAT

* INQU!SIT_R: wait … why aren’t the stones crunching? even if the impacts are silent, the stones should make noise as they rub against each other

_CHAT

* LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: That sounds like Clarke’s 3rd Law.

Norman grinned. “Excellent observation. Like I said, you can stomp around as much as you want. Not a peep.”

“Yeah … pretty much what it is,” Norman agreed. “At least, until I figure it out.”

_CHAT

* RAIDER-COMMANDER: So you’re saying you don’t know how your own invention works?

“Nope,” Norman admitted. “I didn’t invent the material. I just-”

Norman’s sprint smoothed to a stop as he went quiet. His mannerisms had changed, from cautiously upbeat to steady, bladed focus somehow intense in its silence. He swept the area with his eyes and the smitelight. It was a plaza, from the looks of it. His gaze briefly flicked to a massive form in the corner.

_CHAT

* INQU!SIT_R: Hol up. what was that?

* RAIDER-COMMANDER: A dead ‘lug’, I think, like the giant slug that attacked Norman earlier.

* ENTO_MOLLY: This one looks a little bigger.

* RAIDER-COMMANDER: When it was alive, it would have been much larger. They shrivel when dead.

* INQU!SIT_R: it’s still moist.

* RAIDER-COMMANDER: Good eye.

* ENTO_MOLLY: But it’s shriveled. Should be long dead. Why is it still moist?

* LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Must have died recently. Something shriveled it.

* MATHLET3: rewind. I think I saw a wound. Maybe a bite mark?

* ENTO_MOLLY: Norman, could you take a closer look?

* RAIDER-COMMANDER: Don’t distract him.

Norman briefly zoomed in on the lug, before his focus turned to examining the floor. He didn’t dare speak.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

_CHAT

* INQU!SIT_R: What is he even looking at right now?

* DRAY.KART_82: I feel dumb. wonna like detectives

Norman turned up the infrared setting on his nightsight. His subtle observations became clear. The viewers glimpsed the edge of the lug’s carcass, but he remained fixated on the ground.

_CHAT

* ENTO_MOLLY: The lug is bluer than its surroundings. Way too blue.

* INQU!SIT_R: The night is cold, but that thing’s much colder than its surroundings. It lost a lot of body heat for some reason.

* LIKKLE-BOY: why?

* RAIDER-COMMANDER: Some nyctals absorb heat - a stealth mechanism. Makes them harder to spot with infrared and heat receptors.

fixated on the ground.

* RAIDER-COMMANDER: Normal night vision goggles have a hard time picking up the low temperature. Norman’s nightsight was sharp enough. Some nyctals take this a step further, consuming heat. It seems this one does all of the above … and drains body fluids.

* HARD.BACK.M8N: So de ting eat heat?

* LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: In a disgustingly reductionist way, sure, you can describe it like that. Did I ever tell you guys how much I hate this city?

* INQU!SIT_R: Is that a trail?

* LIKKLE-BOY: where?

* MUNSTER-VERSER: More blue spots on the ground. They look like footprints.

* MATHLET3: i barely noticed. they’re so faint.

Norman traced the trail to an alley way, where a subtle blue glow receded in infrared. He looked back at the trail: those unidentifiable footprints, or whatever they were. They were vanishing rapidly. The trail was going cold or, rather, warm.

_CHAT

* INQU!SIT_R: ???

* MATHLET3: !?!?!

* ENTO_MOLLY: It was just here!!!

* RAIDER-COMMANDER: Must have left the moment he got here.

* INQU!SIT_R: did it sense us coming?

Thoughtful, Norman gazed at the building the cold signature disappeared behind. Something seemed to occur to him. His eyes hurried to the corner on its opposite side. More specifically, what would have been his blindside, had he not looked. There, the cold signature reappeared, but its source remained beyond the corner.

Norman watched it for a moment. It didn’t move. Through hand gestures, he brought up a tiny screen at the upper right of his nightsight display, linked to the camera drone’s omnidirectional footage. When he turned away from the corner, the screen allowed him to keep monitoring it. The blue glow remained stationary. Norman briefly looked away from the little screen to scrutinise the area. This thing might not be alone.

At the side of his eye, he saw the blue glow move. Something had emerged from the corner.

Norman spun to face it, smitelight raised.

No entity in sight, but the blue glow told a different tale. It shifted back behind the corner, following its owner like a shadow. His eyes flicked to the floor at the corner’s edge. He spotted a couple more footprints: a trail that faded back beyond his sight. If he’d been just a little faster, he might have caught a glimpse. The kicker? He was fast. Nonetheless, in the time it took him to turn around, this thing could move several feet. As the building’s edge stood between them, it should have been oblivious of his actions. However, it knew when he was looking.

And it was waiting.

Norman scoffed. “Enough games.”

*FFAASSH!*

When his smitelight torched the corner, there was no shriek. Most nyctals shrieked. Maybe it couldn’t. He expected the clicks of scrambling claws; smacks of pattering appendages dull or wet; even the viscous hiss of a fleshy form lubricating away. He heard nothing. Nonetheless, its cold glow receded from the corner. It fled.

Norman took off. His sprint rivalled the Olympic elites. The camera drone easily kept pace. He unpacked another drone on the go and hurled it high into the air for a bird’s eye view. It would take time to reach a useful altitude.

That cold glow appeared ahead of him, lying in wait. It was much faster than he thought ... or it had company.

*FFAASH!*

The glow fled. His bird’s eye camera drone was nearing the rooftops. It caught a moving glow. Then the drone’s feed cut out. Norman’s gut instinct whispered:

Fire upwards. NOW.

He did so.

*FAASSH!*

The cold glow vanished from the edge of the rooftop.

Norman veered from the building and accelerated away. Without fanfare, he shattered all sprint speed records of the outside world. He didn’t look back, didn’t even glance at the mini screen. At the edge of his vision, he saw it: a figure burning bright blue as it descended the building behind him. Its movements seemed unsteady, thanks to the indirect smitelight blast, perhaps. Nonetheless, it was almost too fast. He was tempted to think he might as well not run at all, but he had to create the illusion of fleeing prey with no thoughts of fighting back. Not a moment after it reached the ground, it was there. Blue light shone bright, engulfing his infrared vision. Any icy presence breathed down his neck, raising his hairs.

It was about time.

*fweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee*

Without turning, Norman lifted the smitelight over his shoulder and unleashed its night-brightening blast.

*FFFOOOOOOOMM!*

*SpLURrT!*

“HRAKEEEEEEEE!!!”

Finally, he heard it screech away. Not to mention that thick, icky explosion.

Norman spun to face it, but the entity was gone, leaving a trail of cold residue. Had something on its body popped? Maybe this nyctal was more vulnerable to light than others. He gave chase.

_CHAT

* INQU!SIT_R: You’re going after that thing?

“Yes. It’s probably wounded,” Norman answered.

_CHAT

* BAJANETTE11: Wa happen to live and let live?

He gave the camera a pointed glance. “The only reason why I saw it coming was through infrared. It’s silent, intelligent, swift and it knows when you’re looking. How many people do you think it has caught, people who didn’t even see it coming? How many people will it catch if I do nothing? I have to find this thing and neutralise it.”

The trail was going warm, cold footprints fading before his eyes. He tracked it into a street, and it was gone.

Norman hissed frustrated breaths between gnashed teeth. He couldn’t afford to-

“Shtap right there!” came a gratingly obnoxious voice.