The Predator
I lay awake. Christmas is done and a new year has started and again the world spins and all the people get on with their lives. Slip back into routines, try to redeem themselves away from old habits. But this is nothing new. This has been the way for as long as I and those who stalk the night with me can remember.
Humans are creatures of habit. They like to do the same thing. Even if that is changing. Every year, like clockwork. Resolutions are made and broken.
But I do not change. I can never change.
For what I am now, I have been for centuries and so I shall remain for untold millennia to come. I have seen every new year that there has been and I shall see the last one come, before the world flickers into darkness. Long after the humans have left.
I long to be with them. To understand their ways but I cannot.
Even now as the rain hammers down, and down. As it washes away roads and drowns them all, I know I shall never feel their pain. Not whilst it is my duty to cause it.
I pick off the remains of the dead, hunt the weak. My harvest should last for another month. They can rest until then.
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