Few things brought the creature out of the labyrinthine tunnels of old, abandoned subways and pipelines and the modern catacombs of the city. Sometimes it was to scrounge for supplies, but most often the creature left hiding to feed. It subsisted on what it could catch-- unsuspecting waterfowl, birds of the city, cats, dogs, whatever. Things people might expect would run away. Forgettable things. never people.

The prawn disembarked when the pipes turned cold-- the noise had swung into the lull that marked the late night hours. Rumor was that New York was "the city that never slept", but the keen ears of an apex predator could tell when it grew quiet. Its shell glinted in the moonlight as it slinked from the mouth of the pipe to the cool sand below. It would follow the bank past storefronts, towards a park that lingered on the waterfront. It was a long strip of green that pressed close against the urban backdrop, riddled with thick trees and ample trails. Sometimes there were large geese present, other times there were cats. The prawn would try its luck this evening.

In slinked up the steep bank and crept into the shadowy embrace of the treeline, creeping on all fours as it went. The one, good lavender eye swiveled about in the darkness. Antennae twitched as the creature listened. It clicked a low and dangerous warning.

Cafas, or Brucie as he'd told them, disentangled himself from a pile of people who had served their purpose. That night had been a night for women, apparently. He sought out his clothes with only the moonlight streaming through gossamer curtains to guide him, and slid into his jeans. He retrieved his phone from its hiding spot and ended the recording. His shirt had to be fished off the light fixture. He slung it over a shoulder. It was an unseasonably warm night, never know, some new thing might take a fancy to him.

With a brief pit stop to grab a snack from... Whatever her name had been's fridge, Cafas headed for the door. He slipped out before anyone could stir and find him missing, shoes in hand. It had been an early success, and he was feeling lucky. He might just make it back to Inferno early enough to pick up a new mark. Someone nice, with a low alcohol tolerance and lower self esteem. They were more fun, so desperate for approval.

It took the playboy a moment to get his bearings. He'd been in those parts before though. He checked the building just to make sure it hadn't been the same girl. He didn't recognise it, but that wasn't saying much. A good night was a night hazily recalled at best. Still, he knew a pleasant park nearby, away from prying eyes and full of dark corners. Sometimes drunk, desperate people walked it on their way home. The type that would take any opportunity given to them. He set off, an apex predator on the hunt.

The park was disappointingly abandoned that night, but for the animals. A rat here, reflective eyes there. It made sense he supposed, it wasn't time for the ugly lights to come on. Best he could have hoped for was a bunch of college kids too poor or too young to buy drinks in bars. No such luck.

Rapid movement drew his eyes, and a cat came streaking onto the path. Cafas bent and scooped it up as it hid behind him, looking at the grey creature curiously. It looked scared. He shrugged, and certain he was alone, gave kitty a little zap. Arcs of electricity crawled over his skin, shedding blue light to drive back the shadows. The cat gave out a yowl that quickly ended. Cafas barely noticed. He'd just seen a very worrying sight. Fear robbed him of his fun.

That's a big damn bug...

The prawn crept through the dense trees on all fours, low to the ground, senses keen on the sounds surrounding it. In the distance, there was the constant, steady sound of traffic like the rush of water over stones. The occasional sharp cry of a horn, like the peal of a wild bird. In the immediate area, the prawn could hear the whispers of wildlife and wandering domesticated animals alike, the footfalls of a pedestrian on a nearby path. The monster was a part of nature, silent and unacknowledged. They would continue-on and ideally never know of the hunt that was happening in the thick of the trees.

Then, the prawn saw it-- a heavyset tomcat, grey, easily twenty pounds-- it was a good find. Most nights, the prawn subsisted on rats and birds and other smaller prey. Though the tom was, of course, still tiny and not enough to tide the prawn over for the night, it was enough for a few hours. A midnight snack, if you will. Mindful of the cats' own, elevated senses, the prawn crawled after it, motions slow and deliberate, carefully stepping past loose twigs or stones. The tom was focusing on its own endeavors, perhaps also partaking in a hunt.

When it was close enough, the prawn lunged-- the cat ran-- the prawn gave chase. The trees were far too dense for it to navigate effectively. The cat serpentined, using its smaller weight to its advantage. The prawn, however, barreled after it. Eventually they would break the treeline, and the prawn would be at the advantage.

The cat did dart from the trees but, when it did, it barreled towards a pedestrian. The prawn realized this belatedly. It skidded to a halt. Still in the shadows. Still time to back up. The man lifted the cat. He was facing the prawn but, in the darkness, his meager eyes could not see it.

It would wait. If it was not the man's cat, the man would put the cat down, and the prawn could continue to hunt the pathetic creature.

The man then illuminated the darkness with arcing blue light from his hands, his eyes pulled forward. Fear registered upon his face. Realization. Attention. A low growl rippled from the prawn, and it grew into a snarl. It could flee, and hope that the man would tell no one of what he'd seen. But the man had taken its meal and revealed its hiding place.

The prawn padded towards him, still on all fours, mandibles curling with the low growl that was still upon them. It wanted its prey. It wanted its prey, and it wanted its park, and this man had taken both of these from it. The prawn did not lunge, but it did circle. It waited. It wanted what rightfully belonged to it. Its one good eye was fixed upon the unsuspecting man. The prawn moved with the grace of an apex predator, slinking around the man as it sized him up. Its attention, however, was noticeably fixated upon the cat.

Cafas glanced warily into the shadows, taking a couple retreating steps and desperately hoping it had all just been a trick of the light. The growl sent a shiver into him and set his jaw trembling. A trickle tiny of warmth ran down his leg as... Whatever that was, padded into the dim illumination of the path. Cocky swagger and bravado melted away at what may well be the first monster Thunderclap had ever seen. He tried to regain some composure and reassure himself this was just some mutant, but the way it circled him was stopping his breath in his chest.

The creature, some giant prawn monster, was clearly angry. Hungry would have been bad enough, it seemed like it may well be capable of eating him, but angry made it twice as scary. He kept watching it warily as it watched him, or rather the cat in his hands. He'd forgotten about that. The bare chested mutant looked down at it himself. It wasn't breathing. That had kind of been the point. He looked back to the monster.

"I-I-I-I'm... Is this your cat? I uh, I promise I din't mean to... It was an accident.. I can't always control it..." The tremble was in all his limbs then as his eyes roved for some shred of advantage, never leaving the prawn for long. Could he even electrocute a prawn? How fast was it? Could he run? There wasn't even a bottle or anything nearby to use as a weapon! This was New York City, how the hell was there no trash? Cafas took a deep breath and drew himself up.

"What, you too stupid to talk? F***ing disgrace to mutants. Well, you want your damn pet, FETCH!" He hurled the cat's body into the trees and jutted his chin out with all the false bravado he could muster. Somewhere inside anger started to blaze from the ember of fear. He hated being scared. Hated feeling small and weak. He sure wasn't gonna let some half blind prawn mutant make him piss himself and run away like a scared lamb. A full blown violent tantrum was brewing inside him.

>> "I-I-I-I'm... Is this your cat? I uh, I promise I din't mean to... It was an accident.. I can't always control it..."

The man quivered in his boots, stammering an apology for the slain cat. The prawn paused, its good eye fixed upon him shrewdly. Mistakeningly, it believed he might be fearful for his own well-being. Rest assured, the prawn would not eat him. It would be a waste of meat. He'd spoil before the prawn was able to pick him clean. The prawn sat on its haunches, primary limbs still grazing the ground as it surveyed him.

>> "What, you too stupid to talk? F***ing disgrace to mutants. Well, you want your damn pet, FETCH!"

Well. That was certainly a change of tune. The prawn followed the dead cat with its gaze, before its eyes cut back to the young man. A chirr rose in its throat. His accusations fell to deaf ears, though the look in the prawn's eyes was indicative of some intelligence, some understanding.

The prolonged chirr became punctuated- uuuurrrrrr-urr-urr-urr-urr. The call paused, momentarily, as the prawn rubbed its mandibles together, before continuing-- urr-urr-urr.

The prawn was laughing at him. A strange, otherworldly laugh.

Even fear masquerading as anger or derision was still fear. Such a sad man. The prawn followed the discarded cat into the trees, sniffing at it. Still warm, but it wouldn't stay that way for long. Facing the man, but remaining in the shadows, the prawn did what she had come to do.

She supped.

Later she would hide the remnants where no one would find them. Perhaps the man stayed, perhaps he did not. The silence of the park magnified the sounds of the prawn's supper, the slick crunch of bones.

The prawn let the sounds speak for her.

This was decidedly not her pet.

Thunderclap had expected it to chase the cat. It wasn't though. It was still there, watching him, making some weird sound from its mouth. It sounded almost like laughter, and he did not like being laughed at. He drew himself up as tall as he could and stared right back at it until it turned to follow the cat.

"That's right, walk away! That's what I thought! THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT! Little *****!" His voice trembled slightly even as he yelled his challenge after the retreating monster, arms held out in a classic male challenge. He backed away slowly as he lost sight of the creature, feet scuffing on the path behind him as his legs fought to retain enough strength to hold him upright.

The crunching of bones shed sudden light on the situation, and Cafas relaxed ever so slightly. He'd thought he'd killed the thing's pet, but he'd just been holding its dinner. Man, for all it looked smart, it really was just a dumb animal. "Yeah, you're welcome! Big freak, couldn't catch it yourself I bet!" He laughed a laugh composed purely of bravado while still backing away along the path. In the end he turned and ran a ways, once he thought he was out of its sight. The crunching had stopped and that took away any small comfort he'd gathered. With no-one around to see it he ran the panicked run of someone in way over their head, shirt fluttering off into the dark unnoticed. He was too proud to cry, or wet himself any further, but it took some effort not to.

He didn't stop until he was back in the comforting surrounds of a narrow alley. The sort of place you expect to find a mugger, or some poor girl's body. If you were lucky, just a poor girl. Even luckier, a rich girl. He chuckled through the wheezing as his lungs fought to draw more breath. He dug in his pocket and pulled out his cigarette packet, fumbling one from the box to his lips. A short moment later he was drawing sweet comfort into his lungs and flicking his lighter shut. Another draw and some of the stress started to ebb away.

The yells that followed the prawn fell-on deaf ears. To the prawn, it was like a the yapping of a far-off Yorkie. Incessant and unintelligible. If the prawn were even capable of using such words.

The prawn was halfway through the cat when the man yelled at it again.

>> "Yeah, you're welcome! Big freak, couldn't catch it yourself I bet!"

With that said, the fellow made a hasty retreat. Contrary to his accusations, the prawn was a perfectly adept hunter! But she often had to expend some energy in the chase and the hunt of small city creatures. He had simply made the process considerably less challenging by essentially killing her prey for her.

The gears were obviously turning in the prawn's head, as it watched the young man take his leave. Like a squirrel that'd been slipped one-too-many Cracker Jacks by a multitude of college students, the prawn realized that this man could be a source of easy food. What, with the blue light hands, and all. Maybe he would zap more things that he'd later cast aside and, well, that would be an opportunistic place for the prawn to be.

The prawn made quick work of the cat, dug a hole near the base of a tree, and hastily buried it. She'd comeback to dispose of it more thoroughly later. Given the prawns' long strides, catching-up with the man was an easy task, though for the last quarter mile, the prawn relied on its sense of smell to show it the way. Finally, it made its way into the mouth of the very same alley where the young man was currently taking a placating drag of his cigarette. The prawn rose off of all fours, walking bipedally towards him, before squatting a good ten feet away from the man. She meant no harm, but she also didn't want to be on the receiving-end of harm, either. She also wanted to linger in the shadows, where most passerby's wouldn't spot her.

The prawn made an inquiring click, her gaze unflinching. Anticipating an onslaught of verbal abuse, the prawn's mandibles flexed clumsily into its command/request.

"...Do... again..."

A series of alien clicks sent a shiver up Cafas' spine, forcing him to strand dead straight despite the deep urge to double over his breathlessness instilled. He turned slowly to face the creature, face set into his most threatening glare, which he very much wasn't feeling. It was drawn up, squatting and yet still taller than him. He hadn't quite realised how huge the thing was.

>>"...Do... again..."

It spoke, which meant... Which meant it understood. He froze and tried to stare it down, but its eyes were too unnerving set into that massive frame. He averted his gaze, pretending to search the area, arms spread wide in mock challenging inquiry. "You see any f***ing cats round here?" He said, eyebrows arching sarcastically. He waved the lit cigarette at the monster's damaged eye, a smarmy grin spreading across his face. "Suppose could be anything on your left there, eh?" He laughed, but it rang hollowly in the alley.

The mutant put the cigarette back to his lips and took a long drag, blowing the smoke as best he could into the prawn's face without closing the distance. "See I don't to s*** fer fwree, end I don't see no pockets on you." He took another drag from the cigarette hanging from his lips and nodded to the solid carapace. "Hunting fwalls unda anything." The playboy smirked his best sorry-not-sorry smirk, backing away with more confidence than he felt. The cigarette was helping. He hadn't realised how much he'd needed one.

Heart hammering in his chest Cafas kept backing up, arms held wide, stepped on a bottle, and fell flat on his butt. Pain flared up from his tailbone and he swore loudly. His cigarette fell from his mouth onto his bare stomach and burned him, so he swore again and batted it off onto the ground.

>> "You see any f***ing cats round here? Suppose could be anything on your left there, eh?"

The quivering demand, the shaky laugh, and show of smarmy confidence did nothing to sway the hulking shadow. The prawn sat upon its haunches, listening to the man prattle on and on, expression unwavering. When he gestured to the creature's left, it's gaze flicked, the sarcasm seemingly lost on it, before returning to the man.

>> "See I don't to s*** fer fwree, end I don't see no pockets on you. Hunting fwalls unda anything."

The prawn straightened its posture, a glimmer of understanding registering in its eyes. An exchange. No services for free. A soft growl emanated from its mandibles. He'd done it for free the first time, the only thing that made it any different now was that instead of putting the dead cat to waste, the slaughter was happening for a reason. All of a sudden it was a service for which he needed to charge a fee.

"You... scared..." the prawn clicked, calculating, "I'll go... a'ay... iss... you do... again."

The man slipped on a bottle, legs flying out from under him. He lost the offensive-smelling thing that had been tucked in his mouth. The creature rose off of its haunches and ambled towards the man, closing the distance between them. It made no motion to help him to his feet, but instead sank onto one of its primary arms, its face drawing close to his own. As it planted a steadying arm, it squelched the smouldering cigarette beneath its clenched fist.

"Cat... or... sun-sing else..."

That was the deal. Food for freedom. The creature let the implications hang in the air. What would it do if the man didn't comply? Linger? Follow him? Eat him? And what kind of food did it want, anyways? Cat? Beef? Churlish young men who blew smoke in the faces of apex predators?

Cafas scrabbled backwards, trying to get his feet, and his ego, back under him. He kicked the bottle as he did, sending it skittering and tinkling across the concrete. The beast kept advancing, crushing his cigarette and clicking ominously. He understood enough of it to take away the implication. He'd had these sorts of deals before. Well, the threat of being eaten was new. Normally he was just staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Well, when you put it like that." He smiled nervously, slipping into his most sycophantic demeanour like a jacket. "A cat or something else, I can manage that for you." Cafas slipped a still bare foot into his shoe. Then the second. Then he paused to do up the laces. "Just gotta put on some shoes. Pretty sure I saw some broken glass around here." He pulled the last knot tight and pulled his feet under himself, standing. "Alright, shall we get started?" Cafas' smile broadened, and he held his arms out as if excitedly posing the question.

The mutant slipped a foot behind himself and braced against it, making it look as natural as possible. Then, without warning, slammed his hands together, eyes pinned shut. Plasma arced out around him, then, as it always does, thunder followed the lighting. Cafas stumbled backwards under the shockwave and the sound. Ears ringing hard he turned and ran, unable to hear his own footfalls down the alley, afterimages of the arcing electricity burned into his vision despite his closed eyes.

He had no idea if he was being followed, he did know he had one of those left at best. His eyelids felt heavy, his legs leaded, his reactions sluggish. He dodged as best he could past dumpsters. He turned a corner, losing his footing briefly and slamming his shoulder blade into the opposite wall. A few yards further he threw himself into the shadows of a doorway and pinned his back against the door, trying hard to hide.

The prawn watched him with its good eye, expressionless. Admittedly with all this talk, it was difficult for the creature to keep track of all that the man was saying. He sounded like he would do it—really, it sounded like he was going to fetch food for the poor monster.

Then it backfired. Literally. Boooom.

The creature was too close. The force of the explosion rocked through the creature, sending it backwards and slamming it into the wall. Woomph. It hit the wall, hard. Deflated like a popped paper bag and landed on the ground. Wheeze. A feral anger churned in the creature, but the duplicates and triplicates of the alley that danced in front of the prawn’s eye kept it laying there for a moment. Only a moment. Its head lolled to see the man dart around the corner and vanish from view, deeper down the alley.

Churlishly, it raised to its feet, limbs quivering from the electricity and the force of being thrown. Bastard. A quiet growl escaped the prawn as it lumbered down the alley, following the path that the man had taken. Sure, it was hungry, but it was also disinclined to get thrown by whatever the f**k that was again. Also, the sound of the explosion would attract attention—the creature wasn’t going to wait around to be found, not after so many years of living in-hiding.

A few irritated clicks escaped it as it rounded the corner and noticed, grimly, that the man was nowhere to be seen. Little did the prawn know, she was hot on the man’s trail, and steadily approaching the doorway wherein the man had tucked himself. The darkness would do little to conceal him from the prawn’s advanced eyesight.

Sure enough, she spied him there, tucked in the corner and looking rather, well, petrified. The prawn breathed a harsh, cautionary hiss at him. It had half a mind to eviscerate the man there, particularly given his unforeseen attack. She also didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that attack again, however, so she lumbered on. It would be a better use of her time to hunt on her own, and she would rather not be fried to a crisp.