Novel & Cerita Predator Writing

We are predators, and we thrive on the fear of our prey. I slowly crouched in front of him, taking my hands out of my pockets, resting my right elbow on my knee, and moving my right hand in his direction. I extended the nail of my index finger and put it at the tip of his wounded index finger of the right hand lying on the ground. He jerked again, but it only fueled my predatory instincts. “You will speak, or you will watch your body being cut apart bit by bit, layer by layer, bone by bone,” I added it calmly, slowly.

He was sure even a whisper would alert the shadow he was looking at in the dark. What it was, he didn’t know. He was sure, though, that it was bent over to a lump, unmoving body of someone. The creature was groaning, but its prey was no longer in the defense. Adjusting to the darkness, it became a challenge not to make a noise when he took in the feature of the monster. It looked just like the ones from the movie he, and others before her, were so fond of binge-watching. “What is happening?” he whispered, tears racing down once again as he slowly moved back.

“Are you into primal kink, then?” My eyes widened and lips parted, his eyes flickering to them for a second. “Primal kink?” “Prey? Predator?” He squinted his eyes as he looked over my body, my skin singing with warmth just by his gaze, and he hadn’t even touched me. “You seem like a prey.”

he said, “we get to stop reacting.” “That sounds like a dream,” I said. “It sounds like work.” He inclined his head toward the room. “Get some rest.” He left me with that—not a command, not a test. A mercy disguised as an order, or the reverse. I stood there until the hallway stopped pretending to sway, then went back in to close my laptop and tuck the transcript into its folder. On the top I wrote, because I couldn’t help myself: When predators demand, we schedule. When they threaten, we breathe. When they verify, we verify them.

He had gone into my room. He could have shoved into a drawer or thrown it onto the bed. He folded it. Folded it. And then he’d written me a note. It changes nothing. I read the sentence again. I am a reader. A serious one. I understand subtext and unreliable narrators. It changes nothing was, at best, a partial lie. Either Kain Morozov genuinely believed he was immune to me, in which case he was delusional, or he knew perfectly well he wasn’t and had decided to challenge me anyway.

I waited, patiently like I had all afternoon to spare until those lovely glassy eyes swept back to snag mine, "Hold it, boldly don't look away." Her fingers shook uncontrollably next to her milkshake. Her tongue peeked out to moisten her lower lips. "When that punk looks your way tonight you're going to feel exactly how you're feeling right now. Like a prey. A fawn spotted by a fox. Every instinct will tell you to look away. Your wolf will purr and cower." I squinted my gaze and made my voice drop, "You won't. You'll look him dead in the eyes, like you could devour him alive. You're the predator, not him. Not any man."

“Leave, again?” There was a small rumbling on his throat too, which made me blink in surprise. Was he…was he growling at me? Something flashes in my mind, something that I’ve read in one of my books about Zoology and Biology. There was a whole chapter entirely dedicated to how large predators faked being hurt or scared by their children to encourage them. As much as I wanted to do it to Kofi, since we were technically semi-predators as well, I found myself failing terribly. My mouth twitches, and I find myself clearing my throat just to stop myself from laughing at his attempt to scare me. His growl didn’t sound at all scary, it was pretty adorable.

“Stop it.” I wiped sweat from my forehead, breathing hard. “I’m not thinking like prey. I’m thinking like someone who doesn’t want to get hit.” “Same thing.” She moved faster than I could track and swept my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, the air rushing from my lungs. “Prey runs. Prey dodges. Prey hopes the predator gets bored and leaves.” I glared up at her. “And what should I think like instead?”

he said, changing the topic. I was grateful he changed the topic, cause if we continued speaking about that, the little trust I was able to build would have crumbled. “I study everything,” I replied. “That’s why I survive.” I stood up brushing my fingers along a broken vine beside a tree. “You mark your patrol paths the same way vampires mark hunting grounds it's Repetitive and Predictable.” “Are you calling my warriors sloppy?” “I’m calling them visible,” I said, stepping closer. “And the creature that’s hunting them? It’s not making the same mistake.”

Don’t you want to save your sister, mother, or do you want to just let them face the pain? Nalia's breath hitched. As she lost herself to him already, his words sounded like a piercing in her heart. She was unable to deny it; her body was failing her, yielding in response to his contact in manners which frightened her even more than all. You see, I am a predator, so I am told, she stated tautly. "And I'm your prey."