Sniffing the air then letting out a growl, carefully moving on hunched legs and claw like hands. He looked around, sunken dark brown eyes, almost black. No, he wasn't eyeless, they were just sunken and looked to be eyeless. He blinked once, twice, then a third time. Dark skies, clouds, rain? He sniffed the air again, humid, lake, yes rain. Another growl, water means sticky, sticky means smell, small means alerting food.

'Hungry.'

He thought to himself, normally himself would answer back. But not all the time. Mostly when he was hungry or...confused? Yes, that was the word himself used. He growled after a while, annoyed.

'Yes, yes, I know, your hungry. We best chose a good target.'

He growled, good target meant easy prey, easy prey meant food. He was hungry, he wanted food, but first he must find a target. Himself said so, and himself was normally right. He sniffed the air again, and whined a bit.

'Target?'

'Middle, if too young we'd have to feed again.'

A growl again, middle meant hard to kill, but also meant more meat. He was hungry, so he'd take the risk. He sniffed the air, and speed on into the dark night. The moon shone overhead, not enough light to be spotted, but enough for him to see. He looked up to the darken window, and sniffed again, his skin was dark, ashy grey in the low light. Teeth were sharp to the point and jagged to hold and tear sweet meat. A low growl of hunger came out as he gazed around the parking lot.

'Hungry.'

'Be careful, we don't want to be caught while feeding.'

He growled more, but seemed to agree, lost food last time when caught. He gazed around again and saw no lights of...cars? Trucks? Both, yes, none are here. He latched onto the brick wall, grunting as it crumbled a bit, old bricks meant more effort, more effort meant more enters used to not kill food. He growled a bit, but kept with it, it was too late to look for more food.

'Food?'

He peered in through the window, his dark grey hoodie hid him int he low light that was dimmer in the leaves behind him. Dark black sweatpants made of slick sound, but too quiet to hear for the...boy? Yes, boy, on the other side of the window. He made something akin to a snort.

'Thin.'

'But tall, meaning more meat.'

Meat, he licked his lips, he was hungry. He reached to the seal and stuck his claws under it and jerked up, the latch clicked, he was in. The boy slept, the sound of the latch luckily didn't wake him. Awake food meant being caught, caught meant running to hid, hiding meant no food. He crept closer to the bed and soundlessly stared at the boy. Sniffing again, the boy was alone.

'No other?'

'Parents must be away on vacation.'

'Parents?'

'Nothing, it just means food won't alreat anyone.'

He was satisfied with that, growling loud enough for prey to awaken. Prey raised up and looked around with heavy eyes. He wanted to pounce, but himself said that it wa abetted to strike...fear? Yes, himself said fear meant prey would run. Fearful prey was fun to eat, fear was good for prey. Prey looked at him and gasped, his eyes dilated as he watched and waited for movement. Movement meant good scream, screaming prey was funny to kill.

'Now!'

'Yes my Primal side, feed.'

So he lunged, the boy scream, and claws sunk. Blood, warm, prey was still warm. Warm food was good food, so himself said. He bit down onto the arm, listening to prey scream. No one would hear, no one around for miles. Himself said this was country side, meaning food was far apart. He tore off a meat, and pinned prey down. Wet? He looked to see...tears? Himself said tears were used by...humans? Yes, to show...emotions? He never knew about emotions, himself felt them, why couldn't he? He growled, growing tired of the screams, he'd silence prey now. With a swift and sickening squish and crack, prey was silent. But still warm, for a while, as himself said.

'Me can't feel?'

'No, you are Primal, you can't feel.'

Himself sounded sad, he could tell, if he can't feel then himself can. Himself was apart of him, so that meant he could somewhat feel? That was good enough for him, he continued to feed, then heard tapping on the ceiling. Rain. He growled, rain was bad, but rain would stop soon. He would wait here for rain to stop, as himself had told him to do before. For now, he wasn't hungry anymore. He crouched into the corner of the room, smell of blood and lingering food was still fresh. He gazed down at his black boots, and made another whine like sound.

'If me Primal, who you?'

Himself was always himself, did himself have a name? Himself often called him Primal, but what should he called himself?

'I guess you can call me Human.'

Himself was human? But himself was not food. Himself must have once been food before becoming himself. That was good, he liked Human, and Human liked him, Primal. He was silent after that, for now they'd wait for rain to stop. Rain always stopped by morning, and he had leftovers, as Human called them, until morning. Then it was back to hiding and stalking for more food. Primal did love meat.

But why did he love meat? Primal never really understood that, Human never would tell him either. Primal just remember one day waking up in a forest, and feeling hungry. He knew, from Human, that what he once was did taste good. Primal remember briefly that he found a man in the woods, he remember blood and his first taste of flesh. Primal knew, back then, that Human possible was in control before he was. Human must have been very hungry, Primal knew that when he came out his stomach was thin and growling.

'Had to find food.' He muttered to himself.

'We both did.'

Human sounded upset again, did Human not like killing food? Primal frowned, was it because Human was once food? That did make the most sense to Primal, even if he was mostly just instincts, killing who you once were must hurt Human.

'Sorry.'

He said glumly, there was a sigh.

'Don't worry, it wasn't your fault, I've grown used to it.'

Primal did believe this, but non the less took it as that, he sat up as he heard the rain slowly stop. That was quick, maybe it was what human called a...shower? Human said it was when rain came quickly and went. But, that meant for Primal he didn't have to stay here long, by now the smell of food had become stale and rotted. He got up, and froze as he saw lights from outside, car.

'Quickly, that parents are home!'

Primal didn't need to be told twice as he dashed to the window and jumped out into the night. The grass of wet and the air was cold, but that never did bother Primal, he was used to the cold. He once remembered when in the forest he was always cold, soon it was like his veins had frozen, and the cold didn't exist.

He didn't want to stick around to see red and blue lights, that normally meant the food in black and dark blue clothing came. They were hard to kill, and the things they carried made his skin burn. Last time he was, shot, as Human put it, he had to forcefully pull out a black small...bullet? Primal heard Human call it that, though he didn't think it fit the pain it out you through. He had to rip this bullet from his shoulder, and let it heal for a week or so. The pain was like fire, he knew what that felt like from the time his big prey threw him onto burning wood.

'Bullet hurt, take too long to heal, hurt to get rid of.'

'So your taking to more then just two to four words now?'

Primal blinked, but didn't say anything else, he looked back to the house as he heard screams of a...girl? At least Human told him it was sometimes a girl, he didn't see how a boy could make that high of a scream. Human would chuckle at this, making Primal sometimes more curious about food and their voices. But that normally went away as he got more hungry, to where he didn't want to wait and watch, only pounce and eat.

Primal turned to the fields ahead, Human had said that they were common in the country side. So he turned and jumped over the fence, running on all fours, and away from the sobs of a girl. He was lucky his prey didn't fight much, sure holding the prey down did cause strain, but it seemed prey was giving up too easy. Human said food sometimes did that, that they knew they had no chance of living so they just let Primal kill them. Primal didn't complain too much, food was food, thought sometimes he did like it when they struggled.

'Tired.'

Primal looked around the fields before looking to the trees int eh distant, the two eh sound of loud screeching from the house. He knew that he had to find a place to hid soon, far away from here, so he crouched to all fours again and ran into the night. Memories of when he used to be on two legs and run would often come back, but we're fleeting like they were running from him.

He didn't know how long he ran in the forest, only until he was sure that the sounds were far away enough. Primal grunted as he slowed his pace, his breaths sharp intakes, he was very tired now. He sniffed the air, and looked around, before following a claw marked path of broken twigs and clawed leaves to a cave. Primal only knew that this was his 'home' as this was the palce he first woke up in. With the taste of flesh in his mouth, he started the chain of events of him becoming something that wasn't food anymore.

'Dose Human have another name?'

He didn't know as to why he asked this, normally he wouldn't care. But, he was curious, was Human once in control? If so, then why did he, Primal, gain control?

'Yes, once, but I don't use it anymore.'

Primal whined a bit, as he scuffed around his dark cave, he wanted to know if Human was food or not. While he kept say Human wasn't, he wanted to hear Human say it.

'Need name.'

He said urgently, as he sat down and growled a bit annoyed. He didn't want himself to be food, he wanted himself to be like Primal. There was a soft sigh of frustration, as Human seemed to be thinking, Primal whined again, as he clawed the ground a bit, he didn't like waiting for too long.

'Thomas.' Said Human, 'I was once called Thomas.'.

Primal blinked, so Human was Thomas. But that didn't add to how Thomas wasn't food, if Human was Thomas, was Primal also Thomas? He grumbled a bit, this was confusing to him.

'Was Thomas hungry?'

He hoped Thomas would tell him more about who he was. Thomas would often ignore these questions, but at least Thomas had answered one of Primal's questions. Would himself answers this one?

'Yes, very hungry.'

Primal shifted where he sat and huffed a bit as he tensed his shoulders.

'How did Thomas be with Primal?'.

'Thomas had went on a camping trip to get away from city life, lost his food to a bear, and slowly began to crave meat.'.

Primal blinked, so Thomas had met a bear? Was Thomas Human or was he the Thomas of the story? Primal frowned, either way he had met a bear once, if Thomas has met a bear that ate his food then he must have been very hungry.

'So Thomas killed food?'.

'Yes, and he liked the taste, but couldn't handle he killed one of his own.'

Primal nodded slowly, so Thomas was once food also, but now he wasn't. That was good, so he wasn't food.

'Thomas got Primal to help?'

He wanted to know that, so Thomas made him to help him not be food anymore. Primal smiled a bit, if that was true then he was glad he helped Thomas. Thomas was himself, and he liked to help Thomas.

'Yes, and what happen next, well everything you remember from the time you woke up.'.

Primal nodded again, as he paced around on all fours again. So he was Primal and Human was Thomas, Primal Thomas? That had a nice ring to it.

'We, Primal Thomas?'

There was a chuckle from Thomas, as Primal smiled a bit showing his sharp, dark reddish yellow, and bloody teeth. His light brown hair now matted to his forehead with sweat and dried blood, Thomas liked the name?

'I suppose that is what we are called.'.

The next day it the papers and on the news was about the murder of a teenage boy. He had be found with claw marks on his arms and chest, and looked to have been half eaten. The prints they found and also the DNA suggested the killer was a human with animal like instincts. Police were still unsure as to who killed the boy, and still didn't have an identity.

But a few days later, they came up with a match. A boy, age of 19, who went missing on a camping trip, said to have been killed by the bear that tore up his camp sight.

Thomas Davis.