CRUNCH... slurp... your mouth’s still warm with the slick taste of tendon and copper. The femur cracks easily under your jaw—too easy. They were weak. Too slow.

But then—

THUMP

Another one.

THUMP. THUMP.

He's moving.

The boy. The giant.

Your lungs tighten, and without thinking— SKRRRT you slip into a narrow hole in the wall. Paint chips scrape your shoulders. It's tight, but you know the routes.

---

Inside the wall, it's warm. Smells like dust, and skin. Giant skin. That faint musk of a teenage boy who's been in his room too long. The scent’s stronger today, disgusting

You pause, placing your palm against the inner drywall like it’s a heartbeat. And you feel it.

THUMP—shifting weight. Footsteps?

No... sitting down.

He's on his bed.

---

Your vision adjusts. A crack of light slips in through a bent nail. You crawl toward it. Peek.

And there he is.
The boy.
Massive, sprawled on his bed. His hoodie rides up a bit, exposing skin stretched over abs like low hills. His hand moves lazily, flicking through his tablet. ClikkR glows on the screen.

You know that glow.

---

(On screen: a human, not unlike you, sprints across a countertop as a giant girl laughs and drops a cereal bowl near him to block his path.)

"—HE'S GONNA MAKE IT, HE’S—" CRUNCH. The comments go insane.

The boy watching? He just smirks. Licks his finger. Scrolls again.

---

Your claws twitch.

You killed someone today. You fed. You live.