I, Chupacabra

The rain fell in a relentless downpour, cloaking Elmendorf in darkness. I, the chupacabra, moved silently through the shadows. My sleek form blending seamlessly with the night. The scent of fear and vulnerability hung heavy in the air, drawing me closer to my unsuspecting prey.

The herd of cows grazed peacefully, unaware of the imminent danger that lurked nearby. Their mowing mingled with the sound of rain, creating a symphony of ignorance. With each step, my anticipation grew, my hunger gnawing at my insides. This was the moment I had been waiting for since I escaped the lab in Austin nearly two weeks ago.

The young calf, lagging behind the rest of the herd, caught my attention. Its innocence and vulnerability called out to me, beckoning me closer. I could taste the fear in the air, a delicious prelude to the feast that awaited me.

As the herd sought refuge in the safety of the barn, the young calf stumbled, its unsteady steps betraying its fear. With a swift swipe of my claws, I knocked it off balance, reveling in the power I held over this fragile creature. It cried out in terror, its pleas for help falling upon deaf ears.

In that moment of vulnerability, I pounced, my hunger driving me forward. The young calf fought valiantly, but it was no match for my strength and cunning. Its cries for mercy echoed through the stormy night, filling me with a twisted satisfaction.

As I claimed my prize, the herd huddled together in the shelter of the barn, trembling in fear and confusion. They could sense the presence of an unknown malevolence, a predator that waked among them. Little did they know that this encounter would be the catalyst for a chain of events that would forever change their lives and the lives their ranchers thought they knew.

In the darkness, I watched, my hunger momentarily satisfied. The rain washed away the evidence of my presence, leaving only the echoes of fear in its wake. I, the Chupacabra, had made my mark, and the world would never be the same again.

I remained in the pasture, exploring the newfound area that could serve as my feeding grounds for weeks to come. As I approached the lifeless calf, my sharp claws clicked against the wet ground. I stopped in my tracks hearing he sound of a 4x4 vehicle growing louder, accompanied by the pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof. Intrigued, I peered through the foliage, my red eyes searching for the source of the disturbance.

There, in the glow of the headlights, stood the rancher, Mr. Fred Dalton, his face etched with resolve. His initial shocked at seeing the body of the calf near the pond quickly changed from surprise to determination I sensed the rancher’s intent, his unwavering resolve to protect his livestock. I knew I had been discovered, and a confrontation was inevitable.

As Mr. Dalton locked eyes with me, I felt a surge of adrenaline. My instincts screamed at me to flee, to escape the rancher’s wrath. But a part of me, a remnant of my former, longed for understanding, for acceptance.

Why do I have these memories or feelings from another life? I was created in a lab, a combination of a naked hyena from Nubia, a Mexican wolf, and sequenced DNA from a dire wolf fossil.

I continued to hold my ground, staring intently at the intruder as the rain continued to pour, soaking my thin layer of fine, blue hair. It was just enough to hide the tattooed number given to me in the lab, MS15BSM17. From a distance, I appeared to be hairless, except a long, sleek, razor sharp row of hair spikes that extended from the base of my neck, all the way down my back, following the curvature of my spine. When I am in a state of heightened alertness or aggression, the hair spikes become even more pronounced, bristling and standing on end, creating an intimidating display that serves as a warning to potential threats.

In that fleeting moment, I hesitated. Staring down the rancher, I let out a mournful howl, a cry of frustration, and gave into my urges to flee.

As the moon found a few moments to escape from a break in the clouds, it cast an eerie glow upon the landscape, causing my to heart race with excitement. With a swift leap, I disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind the sound of trotting footsteps in the puddles and a faint echo of my growl.

I knew I stumbled onto a bountiful hunting ground, a place where cattle and small livestock roam freely. I will stay in this area, hidden from the prying eyes of humans who are oblivious to my presence. The town is not prepared for my existence, and with every step I take into the know, I relish in the thrill of the unknown, ready to embrace my role as the elusive predator of the shadows.

Once again, as if to assert my dominance over the darkness, I raise my head and let out a haunting howl into the night. The sound reverberates through the silent air, sending shivers down the spines of any being who dares to listen. My howl carries a sense of power and mystery, a chilling reminder of my presence in the shadows. With each eerie note that escapes my throat, I reaffirm my status as the enigmatic creature that prowls the night, and I am here to stay.