Just a reminder. I'll be coming for you, "Heroes."
The Skinwalker
Born in the primordial times when the Earth was young, I became sentient, aware. I fed off of the other creatures around me and learned to take their forms for my own to survive. I outlived my own race and those that followed it. I will outlive humanity. You know me by various myths and legends. The Native Americans called me The Skinwalker. That's close enough.
Sep. 2002. An undetermined location.
I'm awake. This shell is old, tired. I must have a new one soon. This body has served me well for the last ten years. But like the others, it too is deteriorating, due to my needs. All the preparations have been made. I must call my "wife" into the room.
The old man reaches over and presses a button on the side of the bed. There is a buzzing sound and a voice is heard over slight static.
"Yes, honey?"
"Could you come in here? I don't think I have much longer. . .and I want to say goodbye."
"I'll be right in."
A young woman in her mid to late twenties walked into the dark room and stood next to the bed where the feeble old man lay patiently waiting. She had long, dark hair and wore a red jacket and mini skirt with a dark blouse.
"Come here, my dear. Lean in close. . .there is something I must share with you."
"All right." She did as the old man asked her to.
"Kiss me."
"Okay." Inwardly, the woman was repulsed by the thought of such close physical contact with this man, but she thought of the monetary gain she would have when he was gone and did as he wished.
As their two lips met, the old man grabbed the young woman around the throat with both hands and her eyes were forced open. As her eyes opened, a yellow light seemed to flow out from the old man's eyes and into hers. She struggled for fifteen minutes until finally, the old man's hands fell away limp. She stood up, straightened her clothing and walked out the door.
The old man was dead.
