The glorious golden globe of the sky hung high and mighty, a testament to the beauty of life. This incandescent orb went unlooked, disregarded, and even treated by contempt by the man who dwelled in his apartment. Matt is exactly who you think he is, a foolish mortal whom has done away with much of his life for the sake of temporary joys, the most engaging of which being video games. And as to be expected, he went out of his way to make his abode a symbol for himself, a decrepit prison with the windows covered by thick felt cloth and the only light coming from the television that remained almost perpetually turned on. He waited, impatient, staring at the picture of the starting screen of a game he knew he would abhor, a game which may very well have served as a deserved punishment for his waste of his own lifetime, a petty plaything that was as functionally flawed as it's story; Twilight: The Game.

Why would a person, even as lowly as Matt, go through all the trouble to play a game such as this? The answer is quite simple to those who know him, even only briefly, and the answer also serves as a compliment to the remorseful life of this pitiful creature. Matt had a show on the internet where he played video games with his fellow mortals whose lives were nearly uneventful than his own. He entertained the drones and children of the world through his wild antics with his cohorts and jokes that may come at his own expense, and yet he continues as this contact with the outer world, with those who look to him as a comedian and a hero, serving to provide him with the formally absent self worth that justifiably went unearned. But of course, the question still lingers as to the purpose of this lonely waiting, staring at the screen which portrayed the title of Twilight surrounded by static smoke, with the faint pinging of a piano playing overly dramatically and in such a mournful manner that it may only elicit a panged groan.

This went on for a good hour, the clinging of the television now effectively faded into the back-round until something broke the monotony and sent Matt standing and rushing to the door, almost in a panic as though he were attempting an escape from the inevitable torture. He pulled the door open and nearly slammed a hole through the wall and was only elated to see one of his alleged friends and the co-start of his show, Pat, a rugged yet short man of distinctive ginger hair furious temper.

"Hey shitlord!" Matt greeted. "Get the fuck in here and let's play that Half Life 3 I told you about!" he announced, glad to see his lie had worked so well that he could see the wrinkles of Pat's face formed in an almost fixed smile and entered the room, replying with "Hell yeah, fucking Valve took long enough! Man, I can't wait to ride the jetpack and do sick aerial combos against cloaked-raptors!" And once he was fully in the room the volume of his voice dropped and turned to flee but could not for Matt stood in the doorway with a roll of duct tape, the implications of which being obvious. But nonetheless, Matt presented Pat with an ultimatum "Now we can do this the easy way where you sit down and play this shit with me or the Woolie way." And faced with such a choice, he decided to swallow his pride and sit down, because he foolishly believed that because it was only a game it could not hurt him, as how most mortals would view the situation in their underestimation.

Matt resigned to his seat beside Pat and handed him the controller. "Is this multiplayer at least?" Pat asked, only to receive a stern look from Matt followed by a resounding "No, because the developers knew that only people who do Lets Plays would ever play this shit!" And they both faced the screen as the opening cut scene played out before them.

Wishing to ignore the painfully read dialogue, Pat opened a discussion in their usual manner to provide them with a blissful distraction. "Alright, so this guy is basically saying he wants her to be his girlfriend but he wants to bone other chicks." And was swiftly met with "Eyup, sounds legit." From his neighbor on the couch.

"And she's basically saying that would be totally cool if I could join in."

"Well duh, that's how girls work."

"Except that one with the restraining order right?"

"No, even she wants to join in."

"What about your mom?"

"Oh, you mean cookiejar milkbags? No, she's the exception."

"But you just said that's how girls work"

"Right, I said that's how *girls* work" And with this odd response Pat looked straight at his alleged friend and stared at the features in the light of the television and said in a naturally shocked tone of voice "Wait, what?"

"Don't worry; I'll edit that in post." At the end of his sentence his voice dropped significantly and he took notice that he had not activated any of the equipment necessary for recording, and so he was faced with the dilemma. He could feasibly restart the game, and be forced to be subjected to the near painful visuals and audio before him yet again, or he could simply ignore the problem and be sure it'd go away. Being the predictable prey he was, the choice was clear. He did not correct himself.

"Well then while we're editing stuff out in post. I love you Matt senpai!" And this sudden burst of emotion, language, and tone struck Matt and left him reeling, clutching the armrest of the sofa and staring at this absurd behavior coming from his ginger friend. "Uhh . . . I love you too Pat-sama-kenchi-kun?" and chuckled, hoping to laugh off the joke, simply rolling along with this sequence of events. Yet it was evidently no simple act of foolishness nor playfulness as Pat leaned in, his face close to his companions and whispered in an unfamiliar more silent level of voice "Then say it again, with feeling"

I observed the petty prey as they continued to exchange their dialogue, until they disappeared into what I may appropriately guess was the bedroom. I maneuvered along the towers of the constructions of this inferior species, biding my time, allowing these sad mortals the little pleasure of their lives. I admit to my flaws, and believe this to be my second greatest act of foolishness that I have achieved in my term as a hunter.

The very essence of evil seemed abound in the area I was in, it was as though darkness enveloped this singular area and the very air around me grew heavy with dust and carrion insects. As a hunter, I hold no fears, yet the presence of whatever being could cause such uneasiness humbles your narrator. Then it was as though I could hear the very cries of man and beast, as though a history of the atrocities this species has committed against itself and others were being communicated in a familiar manner. I corrected my sight to view through the walls more clear, and saw a figure that was similar only in appearance to the rest of these petty prey and yet it was clear that some essence was emanating from this new creature, and I remained where I was to view, returning my sight as it was, and surveyed the area, waiting for where this being would enter. I wish I could say that this creature would make a worthy trophy, but I dare not trifle with such a strange being, and I watched as it entered the room of the prey I was first watching. Black protrusions ending with green fell from his head like a curtain, adorned with a cloth cap. I recognized these traits, among the others that were the telltale signs I have seen before. A hunter does not fear, does not flee, and dies with honor, but no hunter would be so foolish as to engage this beast of unknown purpose. Such a being is revealed as a horror to all life, and those of any remote intelligence from the very insects surrounding the area to those of more developed minds were wise to remain away from this form of life.

When it entered the area of darkness I felt unsafe, even with the cloak established and my weapons intact. I crouched lower, my attempt to escape the sight of this creature known collectively to the mass of life as "Woolie." I viewed him as he saw the screen with an almost human disgust and saw as he was distracted by a noise that came from the sleeping area of the den of Matt. I held still, the cover of my position was likely adequate but I wished to remain hidden for the sake of the hunt. And then Woolie came in the room. I did not stay further and retreated, knowing the lost cause of claiming my retribution for the humiliation I suffered at the hands of Matt and Woolie. I shall remain stripped of honor, and known as a lowly Yatua until I find another prey which may earn me my right yet again. So long as Woolie exists, I shall be unable to claim that right by striking at the pitiful mortal who dared to insult me, though I know I shall bide my time until the passing of the Woolie and then claim my revenge upon the prey who is responsible for my loss of honor. Until then, I shall be known as Jerry The Predator.