Heavy breathing.
Footsteps thundering through the Red Light District.
We see a man fleeing from the sound of the horde, blood dripping from his arm as he dips into an alleyway, hiding behind a dumpster as the sounds of footsteps come to a halt. He peaks out from his hiding place, instantly snapping back behind the dumpster as Blacktooth’s ever familiar voice rings out.
“Run as fast as you can, bud.” He chuckles, his men look around him for their prey. “See, what you don’t get about me? I like the hunt. Hell, I crave the thrill of chasin’ down lil morsels like you. Helps build the appetite, you know. And I gotta say, my stomach is rumblin’ right now.”
Blacktooth walks forwards, scrapping Miss Liz’s hook across the nearby building, an unholy scraping sound assaulting the earbuds of all who can hear it as he survey’s the area. He stops for a moment, sniffing the air and giving a grin. “See, I can smell the blood, I can smell the fear comin’ off of you, boy. The thing about Arcadia is it’s a nice big ecosystem. Everyone gotta hunt, and some people gotta be hunted.”
The Blood Runners continue further down the street, seemingly leaving the alleyway alone as Blacktooth’s words grow more distant.
“But even the hunter might find himself on the receivin’ end of a bigger, badder threat. It’s a constant fight for survival down here, the only way to survive is to fight tooth an’ nail, you need to be willin’ to scratch and bite until blood filled your mouth and you’re pickin’ sinew outta your teeth! The apex predator ain’t the one who’s huntin’ for sport, he’s the one huntin’ to live.”
As Blacktooth’s voice fades, the man looks out from behind the dumpster, shakily getting to his feet and sneaking his way to the front of the alleyway. His breath is shaky, eyes filled with fear as he leans against the nearby wall, fighting to stay on his feet. Slowly but surely, he makes his way to the exit of the alleyway, looking right then looking left.
Meeting eyes with Blacktooth’s grinning face.
The Devil grabs his prey by the throat, forcing him back into the alley against the dumpster!
“See, I hunt to eat. I don’t wait for my meal to land on my lap. I ain’t got time to wait for a better chance to strike.”
He chuckles again.
“Now, folks like Luther Grim? They want trophies. They don’t need to hunt, they want to hunt. And fellas like Colt gets his trails handed to him. An’ Fidel? He don’t hunt to begin with, he just makes deals because he’s too weak to tear flesh from bone himself.”
The man struggles, but Blacktooth tightens his grip on his throat.
“Every day of my life is a hunt. Every day I fight to sruvive. I ain’t gonna let you get away, boy. Nah.”
“I’m gonna ring the dinner bell;.”
CLANG CLANG!
Miss Liz clatters against the side of the dumpster.
And foot steps thunder through the streets.