Shmavon Aiam
He called it Rat Catcher.
I call it a Wolf in the woods, already.
"You are Striker", the Rat Catcher said and looked up sitting on his street racer ride. A quite perfect choice for the urban terrain he hunted in.
Striker just noded. The Rat Catcher stood up, turned around away from Striker and pointed to a run down Hotel.
Striker just noded. The Rat Catcher stood up, turned around away from Striker and pointed to a run down Hotel.
Striker noded and walked over chambering his gun.
It took him in his active military grade combat suite exosceletton only 5 minutes to take down the nest.
They'd meet again, the Rat Catcher liked his attitude and gave him a five star rating on his personal phone contact book app. "Until soon".he thought when taking off withouth Striker even back on the street by slowely accelerating and turning through the half empty side roads of a dark night in his Sprawl that had seen better days wihout humans turning to degenerating on hard synthetic drugs to rats that had found fire walking upright; Those others, that had made their choices past all points of return facing pay back of what was once the working poor abused.
Hyenese had taken over early in the fall down and all good breads started breathing again to now have their bites when the rats escaped the Hyenese turff to have another shit on those lost loosers they parasited on before, the past Underdogs, Spartans, Punks, Boys and all other trash.
Read my dark future short stories. This one is not in...yet.
