The youma slowed. It had seen where its prey had run, and it was going to stalk him just a little more. Frightening its prey made it feel alive, made it remember old emotions that had long been buried beneath the primal need to serve and feed and survive. The feelings were good feelings, things it liked to feel.
Thrill, as it slowed in the semi-silence, so near to its prey… as it’s claws clacked audibly against the stone of the wall, echoing through the alleyway.
Amusement: It gripped the wall carefully, creeping sideways along the wall where the lights cast their own shadowy roof on the sides of the buildings. The tapping of its claws could come from anywhere, so echoed and vague were they. Its prey so often did not look up.
Anticipation. It stopped clicking, creeping silently down the wall just behind and above the boy, relishing every moment that its prey breathed its heavy breaths, every shiver and shudder of fear as they looked precisely where it wasn’t. It was close now, close enough to smell the energy - ready and delectable like a ripe fruit dangling on the tree. It drooled, unintentionally dripping wet, slimy saliva onto the back of his neck. Unaware that it had just revealed itself, it gave in to its base needs and, its mouth open to reveal triple rows of impossibly sharp teeth, it attempted to bite down on Aidens head, to access the sweet energy it could feel pulsing within…