Hunting monsters was easy, but they were not monsters. They were something far too alive for this graveyard. And they were here to hunt too, so it seemed. Armed with weapons and backpacks, they made their way up the cliff side with their strange little companion they'd met on the shore. They all three looked familiar, but in a meaningless sort of way. Familiar like the dilapidated huts had become. Distant and unimportant to her existence.

"Looks like this is the only way through. C'mon, help me lift this thing."

If that were true, then, why did she watch them? Why did she follow them from afar? She was captivated by their movements, by their hunting. They had no business being here, shooting her prey and leaving it to waste. She would retrieve it later, if she remembered. Things on the island had gotten worse, food harder and harder to come by. Even the animals were dying off and soon she would be stranded on this skeletal rock in the middle of the abyss.

"This is where we sent the S.O.S. If we keep going through here, we'll reach the town."

They were so very much alive though. So perfectly oblivious to the fact she was watching them. Stalking them from outside the buildings they thought they were safe in.

"I remember coming here. Maybe we can find something to help us—"

"Um… what's that..?"

Except, they weren't all oblivious to her. That girl in her little white gown kept glancing at her. At first, Moira convinced herself it was nothing, an accident, but she just kept doing it. She seemed to know where all the monsters were too… impossible to be a coincidence. She was jeopardizing her hunt! She had to be taken care of first.

"There's the tower! That's where she—I mean that's where I last saw her."

They weren't going to let her go so easily though, not when she was such a clear asset to their journey. She was smart enough to know that, a keen hunter herself.

Maybe she wasn't that interested in the girl after all. She could kill her with ease. All of them, really. They were armed but if they weren't looking they'd never know. They would have no time to dodge the rubble. No time to protect themselves.

Moira knew they were scared. She could smell fear on all of them. Overpowering anxiety as they searched high and low for some sign, any sign, of human life. They'd never find it. Not anymore.

She'd spent all afternoon watching them. They were alert, mindful of traps and creatures, but as the day wore on, they wore out. It was her chance to strike! But how? The old man made her angry, the child was a danger, but her urges told her she didn't want either of those two. It was the woman she was most interested in. The one leading them through the island in a desperate attempt to find something.

"Look, I think we should stop and rest. We're no use to anyone if we get killed."

"I'm not gonna stop until we find her. If you want to give up that's fine by me but I'm not."

"I never said anything about giving up! I just… If Moira is still out here somewhere, she's probably hiding somewhere right now anyway and we should be too. It's too dark to see anything and we're exhausted. She'll last another night if she-"

"Shut up. Just stop. You've done more than enough as is."

They were too loud now and Moira knew she did not like them. She needed quiet at night. She needed to hear each twig that snapped, each leaf that fell to the ground. If they had been smarter, they would have been doing the same exact thing like good hunters.

Moira decided she wanted a prize for herself.

She emerged, throwing herself out of her hiding place to confront them, a low growl rumbling from her throat. They had no time to react, no time to pull the trigger as she lunged forward, throwing her full weight into the woman who had her back turned to her. A mistake she would regret soon enough.

Grabbing the back of the woman's shirt, she hoisted her, dazed and sore up into the air to keep her from dragging on the ground as she made her escape. The bright light in her face wasn't enough to stop her from sprinting off into the darkness, but the bullets whizzing into the dirt at her heels was just enough to make her go faster as she clutched her captive close to keep her from squirming free. She knew the island too well to be caught. She had a million places to hide and a million paths to take to avoid detection and they would never find her. She was certain of it.

Maybe that's why she took her trophy home. "Home". That little forgotten hut that used to provide comfort and now only provided shelter. The bed that was a luxury. The scarf that was—

She watched the woman groan and hold her head as she was tossed into the corner. She fell limply onto the bundle of discarded blankets, trying to make sense of where she was. Moira could only watch, amused like a cat with a mouse. Her prey had nowhere to run, no hope of escape. Fresh meat would be so, so enjoyable. It had been so long. She smelled so good… "We aren't doing this." "Well, we're always looking for new recruits." "I'm gonna get you out of there Moira, just hold on!"

There was a gun. It was in her hands. It was in her prey's hands. She didn't like guns. Her finger was on the trigger. She looked so determined. She looked scared. She could hear breathing. It was heavy. She could smell oil and blood. She was crying. The gun just went off. No, no. That's not where she was. It was the woman's gun pressed against her forehead. Moira couldn't let it happen again.

She wrapped her hand around the woman's arm, squeezing tightly. It couldn't happen again. It wasn't her this time. It was her. She was the predator and the prey. The one who made the mistake and god how she hated guns. She knew how much she hated guns. They both knew.

They both knew.

Moira jerked the woman's arm away, slamming it against the wall with a grunt. She cried out as the gun slipped from her grasp. Moira couldn't let it happen again. It was so easy when it happened. "The gun just went off!" She couldn't go back to that.

The woman wasn't willing to go down that easily. Had she ever? She was reaching for something else, tugging desperately at her backpack until something came loose.

Light blinded her for another moment, shining up into her face. Her grey skin illuminated by the bright yellow glow, dark eyes staring, empty, no, confused, angry. "Guess I'm on light duty." They were both staring. Neither daring to move nor to breathe. The arm in her grasp growing hot, already starting to swell from whatever damage she'd done. She could smell gunpowder and blood and soap. Sweat and shampoo.

It was her turn to be afraid again. Someone deep inside her was screaming. Her voice was loud and desperate and she wanted to stop hiding. She ripped through flesh and bone, trying to claw her way out. That voice was determined to smash the skull she was confined in, burst out into the darkness but she couldn't. She could only fight and lose. Fight and lose. She'd been locked up for so long she couldn't find her way to the surface anymore but she could try. She was going to keep trying.

Her prey. That pretty red head who had sat frozen in her grasp was now trying to lift her free hand. With the flashlight tucked between her legs, she reached upwards, shaking fingers pushing back what little dark hair had grown back.

"No." She whispered, staring up at the beast that had taken her here with every intent to eat her. "I'm so sorry."

Moira didn't move.