Dinner (open)

[thestalker]

The stalker had done just what the name it's chosen name would imply. It had stalked. Where it had been led was here, a park, in the middle of this large city. The stalker didn't necissarily like it here, but it didn't hate it either. It would rather be home, on the barren landscape of what was called the Canadian Shield. It had all it could ever want when it was there. Now... well, now it had food, too much food perhaps, it hadn't eaten in weeks. Too many choices.

Now, though, it was in a tree, staring down at the top of a head, a head that was to become it's first... foreign... meal...

From the darkness inside the slightly coloured leaves of the tree extended what coudl be called an arm. Dark, browny-grey in colour, it looked as though it was covered in a leather that was paper thin. Thin it was, the arm was long enough to be a small adult's, but around it was barely the size of a child's arm. Just as slowly as the arm was extended from the tree, fingers became uncurled, stretched. There was a soft sound of cracking to any who was truly listening, as though the bones were not used to such activity, as well as the soft sound of stretching leather.

The stalker had chosen here and now because it was hungry. It didn't think to look for any who might witness the act, why should it worry about these things. At a soft rustle of wind it struck, the arm shooting out quickly, suddenly. It was something like would come from a horror movie, the arm gripped the woman by the hair and pulled hard. She was lifted off her feet and vanished into the tree, with a scream that could make the bravest tremble.

Barely a second later, there was the crash of a large mass, or perhaps two masses, falling from the tree, and landing in the bushes. And the rustling sound of a losing struggle.

[typhoon]

Tphoon spat out the just recently burnt out cigarette, reaching into his pocket before pulling out a new packet, picking out a new cigarette before putting the packet away before pulling out his mini cutting torch, lighting his new cigarette with the flame before putting the miniture welder away.

In the distance, a woman walked in front of him, completly oblivious to the dangers of the night. Tphoon wasn't worried about being mugged, his reputation with fire and metal had apparently even reached the underworld. Typhoon laughed at the thought. He loved his reputation of a man of fire and flame, being the one to call when you need something slapped together from metal.

Typhoon was to lost in thought to notice the woman being mugged by someone in the shadows, only when the scream came and the sounds of a losing struggle did Typhoon take notice. Taking another long drag from his cigarette, Typhoon approached with caution. In his mind, he thought he would be able to sneek up on the mugger and burn him. Typhoon had no idea what he was about to encounter.

[thestalker]

The stalker didn't hear what was coming. Whatever it was, it was being sneaky, quiet. It was only thanks to hundreds of years living in the wild, animals lurking around everywhere, that the Stalker was able to develope what could be described as a sixth sense. It knew when someone, or something, was coming.

It lifted it's head, gore falling from it's mouth. The woman was still alive, though her voice had been taken from her. Now her breath was shallow, and she was attempting to hold onto the last coat-tails of life. It wouldn't be long until she was gone, though, judging by the gaping hole where her stomach once was. The stalker reached into that hold, and dug for a moment, before the hand drew out a plump, healthy looking liver.

It's head was too large, it's body too small, the Stalker appeared diseased at first look, before one's brain could accept the fact that what it perceived was in fact dead. It was crouched at the feet of the woman, looking back as it waited for the sneaky thing to come into clear view. It had sunken eyes, with no obvious lids, or anything that seemed like it could keep those orbs in. It's mouth opened, showing off it's teeth, one row on top and one on bottom. It's teeth were cracked, jagged, made that way by stones that it had bit, This was done for teh purpose of sharpening, in order to rend flesh and chew the rich meat of humans. The liver was placed ontop of it's tongue, and it bit down.

The liver squished. Juices flowed out from it's mouth as it's saw-like teeth chopped through, seemingly without effort. More of the ever-present gore fell between lips that were alltogether too thin, and dripped down the thing's chin. It was calm. It was unafraid of what was coming.

[typhoon]

Typhoon watched from the distance, having snuck up close enough to hide behind a nearby bush. He couldn't believe his eyes. A cannibal, or something that he couldn't explain eating a person. Either way, it was eating the almost dead woman. Pulling out his mini blow torch, Typhoon adjusted the gas knobs before lighting it with his cigarette. Typhoon pushed through the bush to face the 'thing' that was devouring the woman.

"Guess you never herd that humans taste better cooked than raw." Typhoon pointed the blue flame at the nearby leaves, turning them into ash in seconds.
"Or do you prefer to eat raw meat? Frankly, cooked is better."