Bounty hunter Bill D. Timms was moving along the corridor leading to the ship's cargo hold, when he started to feel it. That inexpicable and unexplainable feeling of being watched, his every movement from a heavy footfall to a blink being observed. Timms had always had this kind of feeling whenever he was alone in the dark. Ever since the escape of some of his captured bounties a few years ago, he had developed a king of paranoia. It was not at all stupid; some of the bounties had made attempts on his life before. So when he felt this paranoia, he would always choose to listen to it.

But this was different. The paranoia he felt was mixed with another feeling, a feeling he had not felt in a long time: fear. Whatever was in the darkness of the cargo hold, it was very dangerous. Timms could feel its ruthlessness, its tendency to give in to its animal instincts, and its rage. Its fury. A chill ran down Timms's spine. This was something new to him. He pushed away his fears, almost to no effect, and slowly stepped into the cargo hold. He felt the thing in the darkness toying with him. It seemed to be able to smell his fear, and did not attack Timms, but remained silent and awaited his reaction.

Timms heard a soft rustle of fabric in the darkness to his left, and in one swift movement, pivoted on his feet, facing his left, while drawing the pistol in his pocket and aiming it at the source of the noise. He waited. Only silence. The darkness seemed to be closing in on him. He felt a dark spot form out of the corner of his eye, and quickly turned and pointed his weapon at the spot. It had disappeared. Timms felt a bead of sweat trickle down his cheek. At that moment, he heard a voice. It was a low growl, like that of a lion or tiger. But fiercer. And deadlier.

"It could be that you have either a hearing or seeing problem, but it could also mean that you have a poor sense of judgment."

Timms turned 180 degrees only to face the darkness.

"Still can't find me? I thought you were better than that."

Timms looked all around him, but could not catch a glimpse of the beast.

"I didn't know someone could be so two-dimensional."

Timms then stopped moving. He was breathing very heavily now, and he felt more beads of sweat trickle down his face. He dared not move as he felt warm air on the back of his neck. The sense of fear was greater now, so unbearable. Timms tried to lift his foot and dash out of the cargo hold, but it would not budge. He felt the warm air on his neck grow hotter, and he heard a low growl above him. Still, he could not even blink. He was frozen solid, but it was so warm, so warm. He felt a piece of cold steel pressed below his chin. It was sharp. Timms felt it twirl over and over, each time his neck grew colder.

"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?"

Timms shuddered when he heard the voice. It was so cold, so inhuman. It seemed like a wild beast that was speaking to him now, not the human that must have been on the rafters.

"Timms!"

Timms felt the cold turn warm, and the presence vanished. He drew in a deep breath, not realizing that he had been holding it since that steel touched his neck. A shadow darkened the doorway of the cargo hold, and then it was gone.

Soon after, another shadow emerged, but it was clearly not the beast. It was his co-pilot, Red.

"Timms?"

"Yeah?"

"Come on, we got to start the engine. Let's get this hunk of junk of the planet."

"Yeah."

Timms got back on his feet. Although he was still a bit shaken from the encounter, he was fine. But he could never forget the cold voice that pierced his heart and left fear in the hole. Timms stepped out of the cargo hold, and quickly closed the door.