Quoted By:
An image resurfaces in your mind, from the night when you met Her...
It must have been projected in stroboscopic lighting against the pulsating nightclub walls. You witnessed mere flashes of it, illuminated in high voltage, glimpses amidst angular, contorted bodies crammed together, lost in the lightning. No-one else saw it, it faded as it was witnessed only by you. A stampede, the rush of wild horses, a herd in frenzy, a blur of bared teeth and tusk and dust and horns. But interspersed in the rush, a slashed afterimage of stillness, cut in time against the industrial rhythm of reverberations, the lull of the beat.
It resembled a rippling pixel field, lost signal, glitch distortion, annihilated meaning. Against that seething ocean of static, of extinction, parting the contours of shoals like a sinuous knife in water, the shadow of a carcharodon, a macropredator - the last of its kind. Hunting for the scent of red.
