Hunting the Hunter

hunting the hunter

the dark streets scary to some,
home and shelter to others,

a mugger counts a handful of money,
he killed the man and robbed him,

the roll of money is impressive,
fifties and hundreds in bills,

however the price will prove to be high,
the price the theif will pay in blood,

he believes these streets are his,
tonight he'll see how wrong he is,

as silent as a cat the hunter follows,
a large creature hiding in shadows,

on soft padded feet it walks,
a silent and dreadful death,

the man stops and waits for another victum,
as the creature closes the distance,

and elderly woman is walking the streets,
her purse no doubt carries valueables,

so the man moves into the alley waiting,
as the creature sits perched on a wall,

it watches the man with bright green eyes,
it's black fur blending in the darkness,

as the man pulls his knife in anticipation,
the creature moves closer to him,

with a long muscled arm it grabs the theif,
and razor sharp claws it breaks the neck,

then the creature climbs high unto the roof,
the theif is now the victum of the beast,

it's panther-like face looks on the dead man,
as it rips out a chunk of the man's flesh,

the werepanther lets out a loud cry,
echoing into the silent night,

as it feasts upon the theif's body,
ripping and tearing flesh,

when it's belly is full and satisfies,
then vultures can pick the remains.