Pitch has now spent an entire year now in his new body and he was getting used to his grim routine. Every three to six days he would carefully enter the city looking for a scumbag that wouldn't be missed. A murderer who served his time, a known child abuser, a registered sex offender, some strung out druggie with a problem with meth and cocaine. He would go out of his way to aim for the worst of the worst without getting caught or leaving obvious evidence in a high traffic public area. Sometimes Pitch would go into the city early so he could spend days searching for and stalking his prey. Once he found his target, if he had time, he would freak them out by making things nearby fall over or scaring animals so they would jump at the chosen victim.
Pitch would spend days, sometimes the entire time between meals, harassing his target. Making them as scared and paranoid as possible before finally taking his meal. This wasn't something he did out of some sadistic urge to punish or hurt these people. This was something he did because the more fear he cultivated in his target the more filling his meals were. The more filling the meal the longer he could go between them. The longer between meals the less people that died and the more satisfying each meal was. It was like taking the time to marinate a steak to bring out the most flavor.
During the day he would go back to his cave but a few months in and every night he'd be returning to the city. It became part of his routine that he kept up for the entire year. Pitch was careful not to let himself be seen except by his victim when the day came to harvest the fruits of his labor. So he was confident that no one had realized anything had changed. Everything that did was easy to dismiss. Pitch was wrong in this assumption. Unknown to him he had earned someone else's attention. Someone who had noticed the rise in missing persons because the first sloppy killing and the missing livestock early on had them actively looking for a pattern. Once confident in the presence of the target they were after, a squad would be mobilized.
One former general of the army, General Ishwada, looked over the reports from the area including one witness report that claimed to have seen a monster made of shadows. “Have these reports been confirmed?” The general's voice boomed through the room. The one who handed him the papers responded quickly. “Yes sir. We have received missing persons reports from the city as well as missing livestock reports from the outskirts. Crime scene reports in many cases indicate only a pool of blood to be found at or near the location of many missing persons. Consistent with prior reports during the incident sixteen years ago. This is the first sign of potential activity from the subject in three years and would be the first confirmed sighting since sixteen years ago. The first missing person was reported last seen in the same area as the incident sixteen years ago.”
Ishwada rubbed his chin. The Japanese American man was quite large and muscular. His salt and pepper hair as well as his face wrinkles showed his age and experience. “So it seems to have returned to an old hunting ground and has become either bold enough or desperate enough to hunt within city limits.” The younger man nods. “Reports suggest the subject has a higher level of intelligence than previously theorized since no CCTV footage has spotted the subject. Data suggests it has been active in the area for at least a year with a group of potential incidents dating back three years ago suggesting the subject may have a migratory hunting pattern. Returning to the same group of locations in a sort of cycle. We also noticed a new pattern in the victims of the subject starting almost a year ago suggesting a change in behavior for reasons that are as of yet unknown.”
Ishwada looked over the folder he was given. “What kind of a new pattern?” The younger soldier responds quickly once again. “The new pattern suggests the subject has taken to specifically targeting criminals and homeless people above other targets. There are also reports that suggest a separate unknown entity may also be active and using this to their advantage as there are a number of reports of people being taken off the streets by an unmarked vehicle.” Ishwada grumbled. “That sounds like a problem for the regular police and law enforcement. How confident are we that the subject is in this area?”
The younger man responds “Analytics puts our odds at a ninety percent chance of an Anomaly or Cryptid being responsible. Seventy five percent chance it's at least the same species as Subject Alpha.” Ishwada slams the folder shut. “Deploy a squadron of men. Full anti-Cryptid protocols. Have them suit up to engage the subject under the assumption that the entity is in the same category as Subject Alpha, the Nyctophobian Cryptid known as an Umbran.” The younger man nods and goes to issue out his orders.
Pitch was completely oblivious to the fact that now he was the one being hunted, oblivious to the fact that a force had been mobilized against him. On a day Pitch had overslept a bit and not got out of the cave until dark, he would learn the hard way. Pitch floated a bit of the way from the walking trail, deciding since it was a bit late to haunt the city he would simply go on a leisurely stroll through the woods. He had plenty of time before he needed to eat again so there was no harm in taking a day off. Then he sensed a familiar rumbling in the woods. The rumbling of car engines. “Who the hell would be off-roading out here in the middle of night?”
Pitch then saw lights approaching. Jeeps with big fog light set ups heading straight for him. It didn't take long to realize the jeeps had him surrounded on all sides. They closed in, shining lights right at him as men exited the vehicles. The jeeps and the equipment the men had all looked military grade but Pitch didn't recognize the uniform. Though it was harder to see with all these night lights shining through his body causing a mild burning sensation. The men were all armed with strange looking guns that they pointed right at Pitch. He simply hovered in the middle waiting for the military-like people to make the first move.
One of the soldiers, likely the squadron commander, started shouting orders. “We have the subject surrounded. Begin Subject Alpha Containment Protocol.” Pitch didn't act hostile yet. “(Containment? Yeah, I'd rather not be locked in a cell and experimented on.)” “I'm far from being surrounded. I'd suggest you turn around and leave before I'm forced to do something I'll regret. I'll only become hostile, if you become hostile.” A soldier responded immediately with fear in his voice “Did that thing just fuckin talk?!” Another soldier shouting “This wasn't in the briefing!” A third then said “Screw this, open fire!” Before pressing the trigger on his gun.
The gun fired a concentrated ball of purple light at Pitch and as it went through his body he felt an intense burning more painful then anything he had ever felt before. As if suddenly spurned by an adrenaline fueled fight or flight response the shadowy mass leaped into action heading right for one of the jeeps. The black particles enter through the gaps in the grill before tearing at the engine and causing a small explosion as all its lights go out. The mass moved from jeep to jeep, it's tendrils reaching out and quickly disassembling the jeeps, ripping them to shreds while avoiding gunfire and even whipping the weapons out of the hands of the soldiers or even whipping them in half as if using a blade.
The mass spun and twirled as explosions and shrapnel rocketed the area. Extra large spotlights and directed sonic disruption guns were fired but the mass nimbly avoided most of not all the attacks. Within moments the soldiers were without vehicles and half of them were now either unarmed or forced to switch to side arms. The mass then turned its focus to the men and began lifting them up and ripping in half or quartering them with a disturbing quickness. With just a few men and definitely not enough equipment to kill or contain the subject the remaining men attempt to retreat in fear. The mass acted quickly, catching up to them one by one and swiftly snapping their necks.
Pitch hovered there, looking at the carnage. Shrapnel launched into trees, rocks, and the grass. Small fires and smoke billowed from the wreckage of the vehicles with bodies and guns strewn about the area in bloody pieces. Pitch let out something akin to whistling. “That's a lot of damage.” He then looked at the many bodies just sitting there. “Well they're already dead. It would be kinda wasteful not to eat them.” Pitch then spent the next several minutes picking up and crunching down the remains of the entire platoon of soldiers having the biggest meal since his transformation while he still had several days before he'd normally feel hungry. Having eaten more than his fill, Pitch returned to his cave leaving the carnage of the battle behind.
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Pitch found himself feeling lethargic, the way he used to after eating a large meal back when he was a human. So once in the safety of his cave he settled into a divot and let himself enter his rest mode. He found settling down a bit harder as his body seemed to have formed a dense practically solid core of material after the meal. It was either part of the digestion of the large meal or he had increased mass and density due to the large meal. Either way it was just another aspect of his new body Pitch would have to take note of. Once he did get comfortable however, whatever counted as sleep for him wasn't hard to find.
That night, Pitch learned yet another new thing about his new form. It was capable of dreaming. Despite it being a full year since he had only slept a few times he had yet to experience a dream since his transformation. In his dream the memories of his recent battle replayed in his mind. First at super speed, then specific moments in slow motion. Pitch definitely felt pain and took damage several times during that fight. If he could be damaged, then there was a definite risk of death. The military men had equipment just for him. Meaning they were either aware of his existence or he wasn't alone. Considering how long new weapons and technology take to develop and build they likely had the equipment long before he had this form.
This confirmed without a doubt that there was at least one more entity like himself and left the possibility of other entities existing open. It also confirmed that there was some sort of task force equipped and trained to fight such threats. Whether it was the government or a secret private military company that was technically a civilian operation was unknown. If Pitch worked under the assumption that the attack he witnessed as a child was real, that would mean that even sixteen years ago this group existed and had equipment made to fight monsters like himself. Since they fought off the shadow monster with a spotlight then as well.
Pitch found it strange that his new form was similar if not identical to that of the monster he saw that day. Clearly it couldn't be a coincidence. That monster had to have something to do with this somehow. It was still out there somewhere and was likely responsible for his current predicament including the existence of the anti-monster task force he had recently devoured. Unlike him the way it acted didn't seem to have an intelligence behind it. It was what he would likely become if he ever lost himself. Just a mindless animal, taking prey wherever he found it.
Pitch didn't just want answers anymore, he needed them. However, as he was, there was little to no way to look for them. If he knew about this stuff back when he had his human form he could have investigated things. When Pitch woke up he felt strange compared to normal. He felt the jagged rock of the cave poking at him but it was not painful. When he opened his eyes the cave had normal color with normal light shining through the entrance. When he opened his eyes? Pitch frantically moved his hands around and patted at his body. “(Hands, legs, eyes, a face!”) Pitch moved to the puddle in the cave and saw his own naked reflection looking back at him.
Pitch continued to feel up his body in surprise and shock but something didn't feel right. His sense of touch was off. Pitch punched the cave floor next to the puddle with a thud. He felt the impact but no pain despite how hard he hit it. He also didn't crack his knuckles. He squeezed his own fingers and although they offered the same solid feeling of a finger and even felt like there was a bone inside he could not crack his knuckles. Pitch tried cracking his neck and also nothing. He looked into his mouth and everything looked normal. He did not feel or hear his heartbeat and suddenly became incredibly aware of the fact he wasn't breathing. The moment he thought about that his body seemed to react by mimicking those functions.
Pitch then spoke out loud, his voice sounding like it used to. “I may look the part, but I don't think I'm human. I imagine if I were to be cut, stabbed, or shot, there wouldn't be any blood under this skin. Just whatever material my new body is made of. It seems I've acquired a new ability, to create false flesh and mimic a human body. Though the fact I look like I did before this started suggests I can only take that form. This does give me a few advantages though.” Pitch got up and walked to the exit, his movements were so natural one wouldn't know he hadn't walked in a year. He slowly put his hands into the sunlight coming into the entrance.
Pitch felt the warmth of the sun for the first time in a year, and although there was some mild discomfort it was manageable. He stepped out of the cave and although he had to cover his eyes at first they adjusted to make seeing sunlight more tolerable. It seemed he had normal human vision when in this form meaning he had somehow even produced regular eyeballs and mimicked how they communicate to the central nervous system that was his strange body. Pitch walked his way to the city, tripping several times on his way there. By the time he reached the outskirts of the city before it gave way to farmland and forest he got his body to replicate more hair.
As he entered the city naked, covered in dirt, and somewhat disheveled looking, he quickly found someone walking and shambled to them shakily. “Help… me…” his voice came out sounding raspy and dry, the way Pitch imagined it would if one had not drank any water in days. Naturally the cops and an ambulance were called that took Pitch to the hospital. He let them take blood pressure tests and heart rate tests but refused to submit to any blood tests or give saliva and urine samples. “Name?” The nurse asked as he shined a light into Pitch’s eyes. “James Holden.” He responded. “Okay and how old are you James?” The nurse asked as he shined the light into the ear. “I'm twenty one years old.” The nurse then shined the light into Pitch's mouth. “Can you tell us what happened?”
Pitch thought of a story, something he could give to the hospital and the police that would be convincing. He did his best to make his voice shaky and sound scared, even going as far as to sob and somehow produce tears. “I… I don't know. I went to bed one night and woke up in the woods with cuts all over bleeding everywhere. There was more blood around me with scraps of cloth on the ground. I spotted what I thought to be a severed arm and I…” Pitch sobed louder letting out more tears. “I was so scared. I heard branches snapping and I got up and ran. I had no idea where I was so I did my best to patch myself up and live off the land. I would follow the direction of the sunrise everyday in hopes I'd reach civilization.”
The cop who was standing by taking notes was talking on the radio a bit away before approaching Pitch. “Do you know what day it is?” Pitch shook his head. “I managed to get through the winter and there have been several full moons since then. I would guess sometime in June or July, but it's not like I had a calendar and I had no idea how long I was out before I woke up.” The cop nodded. “Do you remember any distinct landmarks at or near where you woke up?” Pitch nodded. “I hid in a cave sometime after I ran off. It had a big tree growing above the entrance. At most a mile away from where I woke up. It was night dark when I woke up and I wasn't exactly keeping track of what direction I ran on that first day.”
The cop nodded and finished up his notes. “Mr. Holden, you have been missing and presumed dead for a little over a year now. Your home was found with the window broken and you missing. The only evidence left behind was a blood soaked bed and small scraps of fabric. I know if you saw an attacker you probably would have said something. I have to ask if you have any idea who or why anyone would have a reason to attack you.” Pitch looked down and shook his head with his eyes closed. “I live alone in the other ring, in the boonies not far before the city gives way to forest and farmland. I'm a bit out of the way so my only guess would be opportunity. Someone who saw an easy target they could grab. I imagine I was gone for hours if not days before someone noticed because I tend to keep to myself. I have no idea the motivation behind the actions or why they left me in the woods. Best guess… human sacrifice? But that sort of thing only happens on TV.”
The cop hands Pitch some clothes. “Well the place you live was cleaned up but never cleared out. You can probably move back in and try to pick up where you left off. We'll also notify the owner and tell them you are not to be responsible for paying rent or utilities during your absence. We can't get you your old job back though, that is all you. I'd suggest you call anyone and everyone in your life to let them know you are okay. In your back pocket is my card. Call if you remember anything else. You are free to go.” Pitch looked up, tears streaming down his face. “J-just like that?” The cop nodded. “Just like that. I have no reason to hold you. There will be an investigation and an unmarked vehicle will be posted outside your home for a while just in case. I'd suggest installing a security system right away.”
Pitch nods as he cleans his face and gets dressed. “T-thank you, officer.” He then shakily walked out of the hospital and started going home. Pitch didn't really have anyone to call. His parents were no longer in the picture. The cop probably didn't know this but he owned the home he had lived in after he inherited it from his parents who died in an accident shortly after he turned nineteen. As an only child he had no siblings. He didn't exactly put in much effort to keep in touch with classmates after school finished. All he really had in his life was a job he got fresh out of highschool to help his parents with expenses and buy himself games and such.
On his way home while walking he spotted a building that although he had passed it many times before even well before his transformation, it stood out to him. Almost as if calling out to him. He looked at the large building with the sign “NexGen” with the X being a double helix. Followed by the slogan “Unraveling the Future.”