Flesh That Does Not Smell Like Flesh

There were four of the creatures. The black had picked them specifically because of their hunger. They wanted to taste life flesh instead of the dead they had been fed. They wanted to feel the hunt, hear the screams, and bring down their prey with claws and teeth. The creatures didn't understand why one specific flesh was required to be torn. There were so many walking around, full of blood and life, why one was more deadly than others did not occur to them. They were all not deadly, all weak fleshy things waiting to be shredded and devoured. But they did not question the black, the black birthed them, fed them, and kept them, to question it would be to question themselves. So they accepted their command knowing full well once one flesh was eaten others would follow. They had escaped before, done it before, knew that the Black would not punish, he would reward.

The flesh was trying to mask itself by being near dead flesh, but the hunters knew the difference. They could smell her smell. It smelled almost the same as other flesh, but something was off, something was different. The black had warned, had told them to be careful, but the hunters paid no heed, they hunted. And so they came across her, and realized too late, they had become the hunted.