At work, Tolbert heard a gunshot ring out. He dropped to the floor and checked himself for wounds. Finding nothing he breathed a sigh of relief. His heart pounding, Tolbert got back up still shaking.

Another gunshot cracked out, resounding around the room, Tolbert dropped to the floor again, an ingrained practice from his youth. Where are the sirens? Did I really hear those shots? He had moved to Manhattan to avoid the constant gang warfare of his home. He had been lucky to get out as many people didn’t.

He got back to work. Tolbert spent the rest of the day with his ears straining towards the world around him. When no one mentioned the gunfire, he relaxed. He told himself that it had been a dream or something, everyone else is acting normal, Surely here, of all places, gunshots would have been something to talk about.

After work, Tolbert pulled out his phone and placed earbuds into his ears. The blast of rock and roll drowned out his worry of going crazy and the world around him. The noise allowed him to escape the hubbub of real life. Smiling, he turned down the street and walked to the nearest subway station. The train rattled and shook him as it journeyed the few blocks back to his apartment. He kept his eyes on his hands in his lap.

Arriving at home, he settled into his computer chair and turned on his computer which was resting on the simple wooden desk. As he waited for the computer to boot up Tolbert surveyed his two-bedroom apartment. Taking in the clean and comfortably furnished rooms, he smiled to himself in pleasure. Very different from the mattresses with no sheets and no other furniture at all that he had grown up with. He had been thrilled when the hotel had accepted him to be a member of the room attendant crew. It was a job where he could work and get honest pay; he had then been able to escape. The gang in his hood had recruited him by force to open locks and break into people’s houses. He had been lucky to get off on a plea bargain and still be underage so his records were sealed. He was grateful anyone had taken him at all.

Tolbert logged onto the game, immersing himself in the wreckage of downtown New York. Surely he could do better than last time. If I am really sneaky maybe that might work. He walked along the ruined streets keeping to the shadows, his heart racing at the memory of what had happened to him last time.

His ears pricked at a shuffling sound. He turned slowly, tensing. Perfect. Here is my first kill; it is unaware that I am here.

It was a small, two-legged reptile with a long pointy tail parallel to the ground, its head too big for its body. Standing a meter tall it resembled the raptor that he had been looking for yesterday. The raptor scratched in the dirt with its feet turning its head looking around.

Tolbert levelled his gun, smiling, and scoped; the raptor was two metres away.

The raptor jumped to the right, spinning, rubble skittering towards him. It ignored the rubble as another raptor twice as large as the first came out of the darkness of the ruined building.

The larger raptor squawked angrily at its smaller companion. The smaller chirped back, somewhat pleased with itself. The older chirped twice and then five more young appeared from the ruined building.

Tolbert smiled–the mother, even better–and took aim at the parent. Taking a breath to steady the gun, he squeezed the trigger. The deafening shot cracked out and hit the parent squarely in the head.

The parent dropped to the ground, blue blood spurting from its neck.

All the smaller raptors turned on Tolbert in unison and ran at him. They were on him at once; he didn’t have time to react. The first one pounced on him and bit his arm. Pain flooded his senses. Tolbert reacted too late and swung his arm and with its vicious grip the raptor held on. Panic began to rise as the other raptors jumped on him too.

Tolbert stood quickly, dislodging the new creatures. The first one let go, landing gracefully amongst his hatch mates. Blood dripped down Tolbert’s arm, he ignored it. Shit that hurt. How is that possible?

The raptors encircled him, eyeing him with revenge in their dark blue eyes. One of the raptors moved behind and ran at his ankles.

Tolbert twisted and kicked it squarely in its diamond-shaped head. I might survive this.

It flew across the road and thumped against a broken wall. Falling to the ground the raptor stood back up. It re-joined its hatch-mates in the circle around Tolbert. Two more jumped at Tolbert.

He hit one with the rifle in his hand, but the other bit his leg. Tolbert screamed as the raptor’s teeth sank in. Another jumped onto him from behind unbalancing him. Tolbert crumpled to his knees before three more jumped upon him biting and tearing into his thick leather jacket.

Tolbert’s scream elicited the attention of more raptors. Coming out of the darkness and stepping over their dead elder they joined the skirmish. Pain seared through his back, legs and arms as more continued to bite, eating him alive.

Tolbert sat up with a start in a cold sweat, in his room with the lights off. Looking at the computer, he saw it sat off in the corner of the room, its standby light blinking. Tolbert lifted his left arms and inspected them in the light from the window. No marks just a dream. Phew. Tolbert glanced at the clock on the wall in the moonlight; it read half-past twelve. Breathing a sigh of relief, and a little confused–he didn’t remember going to bed–he lay back down and was soon asleep.

Walking down the eerily quiet street, Striker heard a faint chirping sound. Curious, he wandered over to investigate. The sound of his footfalls echoed in his ears.

A gunshot rang out from the other side of a rubble heap.

Striker clambered over the heap to find a bipedal reptile, dead with its head blown off, blue blood pooling around it from its decapitated head. His friend, the cowboy, was surrounded by smaller raptors. One jumped at the cowboy and was hit with the stock of the man’s rifle. Another came from behind and bit his leg.

Striker watched. Is this real? His eyes widened in shock as the smaller raptors brought the cowboy to his knees and begin eating him alive.

Emitting an anguished cry, Striker drew his sword and charged at the group of raptors feasting on the cowboy’s carcass. Running into the group, he slashed one, cleaving it from tail to head. It fell, hitting the ground with a thud that brought a satisfied smile to Strikers face.

The others turned on Striker, encircling him.

Striker moved into a ready position and as the first raptor attacked, he sliced at it; spinning, he sliced at another as it came at him. Shifting his weight, he elbowed the raptor in its face, sending it flying. Striker stopped and took stock of the remaining five raptors.

They watched him, waiting for him to make a mistake. There was a momentary lull as both combatants watched each other.

A bead of sweat trickled down Striker’s face. He wiped it away absently with one hand.

Taking advantage of his distraction, two raptors charged Striker from opposite sides.

Striker picked another direction and charged a raptor, he swung and decapitated his target.

The raptors stopped. One raptor chirped and a repeated chirp came from the other raptors as if a message were being passed and a plan of action decided upon.

The raptors backed away and reformed the circle.

Striker noticed an opening and ran for the gap.

The raptors all charged him at once.

Clambering up to the top of a rubble mound, Striker took a stance there. With the advantage of height Striker easily dispatched them, with quick deft strikes decapitating them all.

Covered in sweat from his exertions, Striker walked down to where the chewed remains of Tolbert lay in a pool of his own blood. Striker put down his sword and rolled Tolbert over. Letting up a soulful wail, he mourned his friend. His legs became sticky from the pooling blood. Who is this guy? I must find out if he is okay.

A woman in white watched from across the road, a small smile on her ruby red lips. She turned and melted into the darkness.

Data coming in from test subject alpha.

As expected test subject alpha fails to extract itself from the scenario and fell into the trap set up for the subject. Alpha was able to deal with one of the raptors and acquired some points but the fact that the rest of the herd was able to kill alpha in less time than expected was a surprise. The intervention of beta, to kill the remainder of the herd, was surprising.

Boosting the range of the project is unfeasible at this time due to the power requirements of the projectors. Alternative methods to bring the test subject into the range of the test will be needed. Scanning data on the subject. The subjects profile of gaming history and his searching history indicates that he compulsively tries to solve problems. Question: how to motivate the detective?

Possible solution: if the detective saw something unusual … something fleeting.

Secondary question: how to do it so that he would notice without making it seem too much of a setup?

In the background, a gentle whine started up and then dropped to silence.