He ran.

                The dark service corridors of the station rushed by around him, doors locked, and lights dimmed. His lower left arm clutched to his chest as blinding pain shot up his arm. He had never Hurt this bad before. His entire forearm was screaming at him all the way down to where he couldn’t feel anything at all.

                NO! don’t think about that! You can fix it later. Pain is temporary. You have to survive, you have to escape. It is still following. I can feel its eyes on my back, boring into me with a heat to rival my burned arm…

                Just Run

                Run…

                Run…

                “That’s right run little Traxian. Run and hide if you can…” it’s voice intoned robotically behind me. Dear gods it was close. Closer than he thought. How in hell could he keep up I’ve been running for what seems like hours! Who was this crea…

                He tripped. His burnt arm crushed beneath him. “AHHHHHHGG!”. ‘FUCK that hurt! Don’t stop. Can’t stop! Push through the pain. Remember your training.’ He grabbed at some exposed piping in the wall with his good upper right arm, getting back to his feet leaving a smear of green blood. One foot in front of the other keep going, just keep... “Uuunnngg”

                A new pain blossomed in his back. He’d been…stabbed? And then… “Oh dear, someone wasn’t looking where they were running. Tis tis tisk.” That voice was right in his ear that…fucking smug voice! How could a voice so overlaid with distortions sound smug? Then he was stabbed again. And his legs collapsed underneath him.

                As he fell, he tried to swing his right arms smash his attacker in the face but his arms…just… flopped…limply. WHAT THE FUCK!            

                Finally, he saw it. The monster. The thing that chased him all this way. A silver mask covered the upper half its face gave the appearance of a polished skull. Its lower face shrouded in shadow darker than the night. All except for that grin. The teeth of a predator shinning in the abyss that was his maw. The look of horror must have been evident on his face because the smile grew wider, and he started to speak but Jhorn didn’t hear it. His entire being was focused on its eyes. Glowing…Red…Eyes. It was then he knew true terror. ‘Just like the beasts in Grans stories’ he thought.

                Then the monster, still grinning in pure animalistic joy, plunged the Blade into his chest.

                “AAAAAAAHHH….”

                ….HHHHHHHH!!!” Tom leapt up in his bunk clutching his chest. He was drenched in sweat, panting like he had just run a marathon, and heart beating a million miles a minute. “Not again. Please not again.” But even as he said it, he knew with absolute certainty his dream had not simply been a nightmare. And his heart sank like a cannon ball into the inky depths of an ocean.

                “Lights” he gasped out bringing the lights in his room up to a bearable level. Jumping up from his bed he quickly pulled on his uniform and ran to his roommates quarters.

                “Rasputin!” He shouted hoarsely slamming his fist on the door. ‘Fuck Why are you such a heavy sleeper’ He griped running an emergency override on the door. Sliding it open he rushed in, sprinted over to Rasputin’s bunk, and began shaking her violently. “God damn it, wake up Rasp!! Wake u..” he stopped and turned to the nightstand, grabbed the water bottle she kept there and threw it at her as he shouted “Lights!”

                This had the instant effect of Rasputin shooting straight up, arms out, ready fight with an exclamation of “Zhopu porvu margala vikoliu!”

                Tom simply slapped the side of her head. “Wake up Rasp! We have to go!”

                “Tom! You little…” Rasputin began as her eyes focused on him only to be cut as Tom had turned to her desk, grabbed the radio, and tuning it to the main channel and sent out a message.

                “All units, this is Officer Piper, we have a 10-999 in station service tunnels. I repeat, we have a 10-999 in station service tunnels. Officer Jhorn is in need of immediate assistance!” He tossed the radio to Rasputin who caught it as she rapidly pulled her own uniform on. All she said was “It happened again.”

                “It happened again.” He confirmed knowing it wasn’t a question. He turned and ran back to his room. They both knew what had happened.

                Stalker was back.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Hobo Station: Main dome, Outer Thoroughfare

                The normal everyday buzz of Hobo Station had yet to kick up, as the night cycle was still in its final hours. Tom gazed up at the simulated moons as they ‘set’. All things considered Hobo was a good posting. The massive dome of its commercial and habitation district comprising most of its mass. It was fairly safe too. Built in the center of a large metal rich asteroid, external gun ports, 3 fighter launch bays, and a corvette permanently posted here. On top of the natural armor the asteroid provided, 3 overlapping shield generators gave an extra layer of defense for any significantly bigger threats.

                “Not that it helps when the danger is inside the station” thought Tom as he and Rasputin walked down the wide ‘road’ that wrapped around the outskirts of The Dome. Nearly 30,000 permanent residents, an additional 20,000 on layover and at least another 10,000 give or take that barely spent a cycle onboard before shipping out. Plenty of chances for unsavory individuals to slip onto the central station.

                Not that Hobo was a trade station. Far from it. Hobo was situated on the border of most the major alien powers that abounded in the galaxy. That made it a perfect location for diplomats to meet, talk, and learn more about each other’s cultures. Each race who wished to participate was given an enclave, inoculations, and a brief quarantine, and were expected to provide several ‘exceptional’ individuals to help provide station security. They reasoned the best people to police a race was that race’s own people.

That’s what brought Tom here. As an exceptional individual he and Rasputin had been assigned to this station’s security contingent and instructed to learn as much as possible about the aliens who inhabited the Galaxy. Not that he knew how many were out there or where they were. Space is a big-ass place after all, and Humanity had only recently arrived among the stars.

“Hey, Earth to Tom.” Rasputin called waving her hand in front of his face. “You in there?”

“Yeah!” He replied, startled out of his revery by that slightly Russian accent. He turned to Rasp, brown hair, brown eyes, Slavic features, and a worried expression. “Yeah, sorry. Just trying to keep my mind off…what comes next.”

“I know. This one is going to be way harder to deal with. He is my friend too. But you need to focus. We won’t catch this guy unless you are at the top of your game, OK. So, get that brain warmed up. This is the freshest crime scene we have ever gotten so you should be able to get a reading. Sila my friend”

“Right Sorry.” He had to stay on task. This next bit was going to be tough. Jhorn was the first friend he had made when Tom had arrived on the station. Traxians were a fairly tribal species. Not in the way humans saw it, it came much more naturally to them. Most would automatically follow the strongest, smartest, and most proven alpha male in whatever space they found themselves in. They had green skin as tough as leather, four arms, and a decent amount of muscle. Not much in the way hair with only a few males having what amounts to a ponytail, and a pair of slits where a nose would be on a human. It took a lot to get a tribe to trust you. It was even harder with an individual. It made Jhorn’s friendship that much more meaningful that he was able to trust Tom and Rasputin so easily.

And just like that they arrived. One moment they were speed walking and the next, crime scene holos warnings appeared in front of them. He’d seen it a thousand times but this time he knew what was coming. The rock sunk deeper in his gut.

“IDs” the officer in front of them requested. They both pulled their badges and presented them to the Ver-katarri officer. The amphibious, almost elf-like figure took a brief glance at their credentials and nodded to the access hatch on the side of the thorough-fair. Almost all the station security personnel knew each other but proper procedure was hammered into them like a square peg into a round hole.

Through the hatch, down the ladder, and a short walk past exposed pipes, panels and wiring they arrived. The body was covered with a plastic tarp and additional lighting place around the scene. Evidence tags, cam drones and several personal. As well as the human and Traxian sector chiefs, and the famous Lygotti physician Dr. Lundal.

The Insectoid alien turned to them, his complex eyes going from focusing on multiple points to grouping up into an almost human looking facsimile. But just barely. His abdomen sprouting two pairs of legs pointing in opposite directions. His thorax was vertical where his abdomen was horizontal. A pair of arms sprouting where shoulders would be on a human and his carapace did a good approximation of a humanoids’ upper body. Small at the bottom and wide up top. Meanwhile his arms each decided to split into two at the elbow with one side being only a large, sharp thumb. The other split into four fingers.

And while his head had the classic insect mandibles, they were withdrawn to the side of his head. Where his mouth would be, a jumble of mouth parts shifted into a passable approximation of a humanoid mouth. Almost as if someone had taken all the teeth out of a pair of skulls and put each one on a separate, articulating, miniature limb.

Lygotti eyes is where the real party started. Each eye was a large hexagon surrounded by smaller hexagons with seven slightly smaller eyes around a dominate primary eye underneath the protective layer of transparent chitin. Each could look at a separate location or all could surround the primary and focus on one spot. Additionally, they could “blink” a thicker protective layer over top of that.

“Rasp. Tom. Hello. Are you ready?” Lundal asked.

“Yeah Doc. Ok I need to start as soon as possible. No time to waste in a situation like this.  Everyone please move to about 15 feet away.”  Tom shooed them away.

As the others gave him his space he sat on the floor. “I wish…” began Tom then clamped his mouth shut and pushed. His awareness spread out around him, probing like an octopus exploring a tank. And he began to taste the psychic residues in the air.

He started with the ones he knew. Doc had a unique flavor due to his own slight psionic abilities. Ras left a powerful scent that tended to saturate an area. The other officers, Human and Thrax, easy to pick out. He picked these most recent ones, and very carefully, purged them from the area.

Then he felt for Jhorn’s residue. Every being has a psionic imprint, with every race having a unique variation on its theme. Jhorn was sharp and concentrated. Whatever he did, he did with a single-minded purpose. As such his residue reflected that, being very concentrated. Prone to stick out.

There! Present but fading. There was no way he had died without staring his attacker down. Tom followed that focal point searching for the point one imprint ended and another began. There were the familiar flavors of Jhorn’s personality, but also the uncharacteristic horror, fear, and shock. And… something else. That was what he was looking for. The killers imprint. He took a deep breath and focused on it.

It was… familiar somehow. There was a sense of excitement, triumph, and an unmistakable and potent feeling of glee. This psyche also had sharpness to it. But so incredibly intense. He was enraptured, focused, and so incredibly full of pleasure. But not a sort of pleasure Tom had ever tasted before. It wasn't unlike walking by a freshly tilled field that had just gotten hit with cow fertilizer. It gave off that sweet scent but was so incredibly wrong. Examining the imprint he realized where he had felt this sort of feeling before. Back on Earth. At the Psi Corp. academy. Good old Major Malevolence.  

Tom did his best to quiet his stomach, memorize the imprint, and pull his mind back in. He stood up and walked over to the others “Well I've got good news and bad news, but I'll let you go first Doc. I'm pretty sure I can give a solid species identification for our suspect, but I want to hear your findings first.”

“Very well” Doc said in perfect English “My initial analysis shows that our victim had been driven to the point of exhaustion. More specifically he was running.  A quick scan indicates heightened levels of waste products in his muscles, specifically the legs. His lower left hand has third degree burns and second to first degree burns on his forearm. It appears his sidearm somehow detonated in his grip. Officers are scouring the tunnels and have yet to turn it up. Neither does he have it on his person. It appears the first stab was in his right shoulder. Additionally, it was an extremely precise cut, severing several important muscles and nerves and disabling both his right arms. Second stab to his lower spine severed his spinal cord, rendering his legs inert. It seems that he twisted as he fell or potentially the suspect spun him as he fell. Either way he ended up on his back. With his right arms disabled, his lower left severely burned, only having his upper left arm to defend himself. He took multiple stabs to the chest, and it appears that his heart was carved out postmortem.”

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“Now,” Doc continued “based on the depth of the wounds his attacker had a decent amount of strength.  Even winded, a Traxian with one arm is still a formidable foe. Either the killer was not greatly affected by the distance traveled or was of equal to greater strength. This indicates either massive strength or a large pool of endurance. Or both. The suspect also would appear to be very well versed in alien biology.” Doc paused for a moment looking slightly uncomfortable. “I don't wish to single anyone out but there is only one other species on board that could easily outrun a Thraxian with much detrimental effects and overpower them. And that is humans. An exceptional one, but human none the less. Based on the limited evidence that is what is suggested here. Now, Tom what did you pick up?”

“While the imprint was somewhat faded there was intense emotion involved on both sides. I believe we can discard any theories of monetary gain from these killings. From what I was able to gather our suspect is what we on Earth call a serial killer. He does this for the pure animalistic pleasure it brings him.” At this Dr. Lundal made a slight ‘hik-lick’ noise. The sound his species made when holding down vomit. But he didn’t interrupt. “The emotions were recognizable variations of basic human emotions, despite the faded imprint.”

He paused here. “I also have some additional information which I'm sure will answer some questions the Section Chiefs were going to ask me, as to why I called in the code 10-999.

The human, Chief Maxwell, nodded. “I had been curious about that. Normally those nightmares you were getting had been the only indication we had that he was active again before the body was found or someone was called in missing. I had figured something similar happened. Only you reacted quicker because it was Jhorn, and from prior events. You’re saying that's not what happened?”

“Well yes, somewhat, but it was much stronger this time. Much more vivid.”

“Explain”

“Officer Jhorn and I are close friends.” There was a brief silence before Tom continued “However I also have been training him to resist telepathic mind probes.” he continued “It's not against the rules but it is frowned upon by Psi Corp HQ. We had had many such sessions where I taught him to build up mental defenses, which I would then tear down. He had been coming along very well. In fact, we had a training session just two days ago.  I think this had the unintentional consequence of establishing a psychic link. Such a link is strongest during moments of intense mental stimulation.

“I learned several important details from this. Firstly, the suspect is indeed human. He spoke English and gave off a distinctive human musk that Traxians can easily pick up. Most likely male, around six feet tall. All distinguishing features including his voice were masked. He wears a Chrome colored mask in the shape of the skull on his upper face. The rest of him is cloaked in dark clothing with all the joints obscured by some insanely effective light absorbent material. The same material appears to be used in the construction of his weapon. A knife approximately 6 inches long and anywhere from one to two inches thick. When Jhorn saw it, his eyes registered it as a complete absence. Most notable were his eyes. They had a faint red glow to them. I believe it to be some sort of advanced night vision as it was incredibly dark in those tunnels, even for a human. That’s all I can report from this end.”

He took a deep breath stepped back and tried to slowly relax. Despite the clinical manner he was able to maintain while calmly discussing his friend’s death, inside he was a disaster. He simultaneously felt like running, vomiting, and screaming his head off.

“What I want to know is how this murderer,” Chief Varn from the Traxian delegation started, “managed to lure him down here in the first place. He should have alerted us if he was going off his normal patrol route. It doesn't add up!” he growled frustratedly.

Doc clear his throat “Yes well unfortunately the officer’s communicator and other electronic devices were taken much like the other victims. However, I'm having station techs go through the computer systems around the area we think the chase was in. Hopefully we'll have something soon.”

“In the meantime, officers Rasputin and Tom.” Chief Maxwell turned to them “You are dismissed. I understand tomorrow is your day off. So, I want you to do just that. Understand, I'm not taking you off the case, but you need time to get your heads on straight. Shit like this can interfere with proper police work if you haven't dealt with it beforehand. Do whatever it is you have to do, but I want your mind clear for next shift. As it is a human that has committed the crime, control of this case falls to human jurisdiction. I want you to know Chief Varn that we will not be cutting you out of the loop here. We are going to catch this bastard! Dismissed”

The brief walk to the surface gave Tom a moment to quiet his thoughts. “It all just feels so damn surreal. Everything feels disjointed, it’s almost like I’m still dreaming. I mean…just…fuck.” he exhaled softly.

Rasp nodded vigorously “I need to break something!” She growled “Come on. We are going to the scrap yard.”

“That’s actually a great idea. I need to meditate. When we catch this guy the two of us have to be at our best.” After all the best way to catch a monster was to use another monster.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Hobo Station: Main Dome, The Cardboard Box – Bar/Community center

Tre-la

                ‘NO, no, no, no! He’s coming over here! Why! Maybe not? Perhaps he’ll just pass by. Aaaannnd he’s sitting down across from me. God how is he so good looking. I heard one of his friends describe him as a ‘suave pirate’. I don’t know what that meant but it sounds so hot. And that smile. Mmmmhh, I just want too…’ Tre-la’s thoughts ground to a halt when it finally sunk in that the human bartender who she had been eyeing for the whole night was now sitting across from her smiling. As if he was waiting for Tre to say something. But she couldn’t. She tried but nothing happened! When her mouth opened to speak the most that came out was an embarrassing squeak. Why! Why did this have to happen to her!?

                A few minutes earlier…

                Josh was having a pretty good shift. A few good tips, patrons not to rowdy, and he got to hear quite a few entertaining stories. Cherry on top however was that cute Ver-katarri girl who he saw not so subtly staring at him.

Ver-katarri. A strange race. They looked a bit like elves from Earth fiction but with some notable differences. Hair color with a few more variances than earthlings and with wildly varying length. Eyes offering ridiculously good vision that could look like a lizard or a cat. A sort of soft down on their upper back between the shoulders that was also very tough. Apparently, it was so children and infants could hang on to them without causing discomfort to either parent or child. And of course, the gills. Ver-katarri are amphibious, sporting a set of gills behind the clavicle, leading down to the lungs that would take over when they submerged. This led to a slightly expanded chest cavity which didn’t hurt their physical appearance at all, Josh noted with a grin.

“I see you final noticed the girl that’s been ogling you the entire night.” The deep bass rumble of his fellow bartender Greegan Blackhorn brought him out of his revery. He turned to the rumble of sound next too him with a single raised eyebrow.

“You think I only noticed now?” He had but didn’t want the dragon to know.

                Dragon was truly the only proper descriptor. The 7-foot-tall bronze scaled and heavily muscled titan was a dragon. Wings folded on his back, claws on his hands and feet, ebon black horns rising behind his head in a sinewave pattern, and a wide snout full of voracious black teeth.

                Greegan snorted at his remark “Oh please. Someone could punch you in the nose and you would apologize for getting in the way of their fist. You are oblivious!”

                “Hey! That’s not true! You know what? Just for that I’m leaving work early. I’m a go talk to her, and you can run the bar.”

                The bastard just grinned at him and dismissed him with a slight wave of his hand.

                 And that is how Josh found himself sitting across from the tongue-tied mermaid. With a blush to put a rose to shame. For a moment it looked as if she was about to say something but all he heard was a faint “Eep”. ‘Time to give her something to respond to I guess. It doesn’t look like she can string two words together at the moment.’

                “Uh…Hi.” What the hell. That’s it? That’s all you can think to say? The fuck is wrong with you?

                ‘AAHHHH! He said hi! To me! Ok Tre-la don’t just sit there like a fish at a light lure. Respond. Its easy. Just tell him your name. “HI! My names Tre-la and think you’re really…” She slapped her hands over her mouth. ‘Why am I like this?! Every time! Every damn time Tre! Now you’ve scared him off for sure.’

                “Hi Tre-la. Its nice to meet you. I’m Josh. I noticed you watching me, and I figured I’d come over and say hi.” Ok, nice one asshole! You just called her out for staring at you. Josh buddy you absolutely suck at social interaction. Ok dude, smooth it over. Let her know you don’t mind. “If you’re not too busy I’d love to buy you a drink.”

                “Oh. No that’s Ok I actually have to go to work so…um…” YES! YOU FISH BRAIN! All you had to do was say yes! Gods and goddesses, you are dumb. Wait! Think. Just ask him if he has free time later! Yeah, that should work. “Actually, I don’t go to work for about an hour I would love to get a drink with you though just not now I am kinda freaked out but it’s not your fault I’m just a super nervous person how about tomorrow cause I think you are really cute I’m sorry please don’t be mad and leave and…aahh…oh…um...oh god…” She proceeded to bury her face in her hands to hide her shame from the world.

                ‘Oh K. Now I feel like a totally ass.’ Josh’s thoughts raced ‘What to do, what to do? Just keep it simple man. Simple replies and keep smiling. Channel that pirate vibe. “Sure. Tomorrow works great. Here.” He pulled out his com pad, tapped a few commands in and sent his number to her own device “Just give me a call or shoot me a text to let me know when.”

                Tre-la looked up when she heard him say sure, and her jaw hit the floor when he gave her his number. She was a bit confused about him asking him to shoot him though, “How would I shoot you with a text?”

                “If you want the answer to that you’ll have to come back tomorrow.” His grin reaching close to Cheshire cat levels.” He stood up and motioned to the staff only door. “Well, I got to get going. Been a long night for me. See you tomorrow?”

                “Yes! Yeah! See you then.”

                As Josh walked to the back he saw Greegan wearing a shit-eating grin. Somehow that old reptile had heard everything. He just knew it. He was going to be smug about this shit for weeks.

                “Oh yes, you noticed already. Totally planned that conversation out, eh Josh.” Greegan was smug as a cat knocking knick-knack off a shelf. Why was the door right next to the bar? It gave the lizard too much time to gloat.

                Josh just replied with “Still got a date though.” And shot through the door before the dragon could reply. Damn wise ass.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Hobo Station: Scrap Heap, Material Recycling Facilities

Tom Piper

                The Scrap Heap was just that--a large room with several piles of metal scrap. Around the periphery of the room various processing machines sat in various stages of activation. To one side a small shuttle was being slowly dismembered. A conveyor belt coming from the station proper deposited waste into a shredder. And in the center of the room Rasputin was picking up huge metal chunks and chucking them into a massive furnace.

                Well, not just chucking. She ripped them into pieces first. It was a sight to behold. Most people would look and see her moving her arms like in some sort of sci-fi flick and bits of scrap levitating then torn to shreds. But Tom had sight slightly better than most. He could see the wave of telekinetic manipulation reaching through the air to grip at a piece of bulkhead and lift it up. A second tendril reached forward, grabbing the top of the metal next to the first. As he watched Rasp give a growl of exertion and began to rip down a bolted seam, trying to rip it in two.

                As she struggled with that Tom sat and began his own practices. Telepathy is tricky. You can link minds, peer into recent memories, or stimulate the mind to pull up old ones. But during all of that, the target is aware that someone is rooting around in its mind.

                It’s far more difficult to probe a mind without them knowing. Doubly so for another Psi Operative. So, for now, he gently circled Rasp’s mind looking for a weakness in the psionic shield she wrapped her mind in.

                Generally, non-telepathic psychics did not have as strong a mind shield. There are ways to compensate for that sometimes. This is easiest for Empaths, who can flood the mental probe with intense emotion. Rasp though… she simply flooded the space directly around herself with raw psi power. A shifting purple ball of light and lightning, crackling with strength. The pseudopod manipulators manhandling the metal springing from it had split at the ends, almost like fingers as she kept pulling.

                As she focused on her grip Tom began to probe again trying to manipulate the energies to allow himself a stable mental     connection. As he calmed a spot of the vortex, his mind reached forward trying to glimpse her thoughts. He could only managed to pick up on her emotions. Rage. Like a sea of fire just beneath the surface of her mind. He pulled back, carefully keeping that small section of the vortex calm. An opening for his next attempt.

                At that moment Rasp gave up on trying to rip the piece apart and just started to crush it. The ends of the tendrils merging to form over the alloy. As she began to squeeze, several more tentacles shot out from the central mass and pushed from multiple points. The tortured squeal of steel filled the room as the strands of power began to merge until she had a single point of focus, her arm out in a force choke pose.

                Now! He struck, heading toward her mental barriers and carefully cut through it. He focused on the singular intense point of concentration and saw an image. Stalker. Almost exactly as he had described him. And it looked like he was about to be turned into a triple twisted pretzel with extra knots.

                As frightening as the thought was, he also felt a grim satisfaction. When they caught this guy there was no way he was getting away. He quickly pulled back from her psyche before she could notice his presence and continued to watch the show.

                She managed to crumple the scrap into a craggy ball and chucked it into the massive smelter. “I don’t think he survived that Rasp.” chuckled Tom.

                “Damn. You managed to push through?”

                “Not till the very last moment. With the amount of energy you put out only an active probe could get through. And even that with some difficulty. Feeling better?

                “Not really no” Rasputin sighed “Not till this monster is locked up or dead.”

“I get it. Welp! Want to get some breakfast? I know food always makes me feel better. I think they are serving pancakes at the Cardboard Box this morning.”

                Rasputin was moving before he even finished “Last one there is paying!” she shouted back at him.

                “Oh god damn it!” Tom was up and moving a fast as he could. No way was he paying.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Stalker

                A good day. Another successful hunt! Challenging too. That Traxian put up a good struggle. Took a long time to die. Getting away clean took a little more time but his prize was well worth the trouble of not leaving a trail. It was going to be hard to replicate this success. He wanted to find a real challenge!

                And what luck this was. A Ver-katarri and a human? He had never hunted two at once. It would take a bit more prep work, but the end result would be worth it.

                It would also dispel the illusion of safety in numbers. Hmm. Maybe he should separate an individual from a large group after this? Or do it in the day cycle! Or perhaps even… STOP! Focus on the now. You can figure out other hunts afterward. This is tricky enough without other mental clutter.

                Yes, this was a challenge. Oh, I am going to enjoy this.

                He walked down the street past the residents, all oblivious as to exactly what was walking past them. And the smile slowly crept to his face.

 He had prey again.