I was born from legend, it was not my actions that created such a legend.
My role in this life is quite simple really, I hunt. Not just any living creatures. No, my pray is of a very specific sub species of a much larger species. A species that dominates the planet on which I hunt. I hunt the sub species of humans known as IT geeks.
I prowl the city streets, looking for a victim that is aware that I am hunting them, but not in a truly conscious way. They know I exist, know that they are a possible victim, but laugh it off as a joke. As if the threat is not real.
The threat is real. I am real, and I hunt.
I wait, watching them as they move about, nearly oblivious to the threat of me. Going about their daily lives. Talking code, or binary. Talking of their servers, their networks, the cloud. Their sharp minds full of programming language, security configurations, Linux commands, and the secret to the hard shutdown.
Some of them let their knowledge go to their heads. They elevate their importance to the rest of the species. Think that their knowledge, and the passwords carefully stored upon their mobile phones gives them power.
I snuff that power in a heartbeat. I am the one who reminds them that they are only human…mortal.
I see one. She is alone, her head down, focused on her phone. I watch her as she almost instinctively guides herself along the sidewalk, avoiding others of her species as she taps away at her phone. Nary a glance up, focused on the screen cradled so lovingly in her hands.
So focused is she on the words moving up her screen she does not hear the release of air. The distinctive sound of airbrakes allowing the pressure that holds me firm to escape.
In the old days, this hunt was more challenging. These geeks were not as focused on their flip phones. Their concentration more evenly divided between the world around them, and their texting device. My own stealth hampered by an archaic combustion engine.
Now, she is so focused, the release of my breaks does not even cause her eyes to shift. I believe she doesn’t even notice. My electric motor silently applies torque to my wheels. The whisper of rubber on pavement subtle. Blending with the other sounds of the city.
My victim smiles at something on her screen. She looks up briefly, then back down to her phone. Silently I stalk her, timing her steps, her pace, her focus on the world in her hands.
She approaches a cross walk while I adjust my speed to compensate for another pedestrian in front of her. I don’t hunt others of her species, just the IT geek.
Her phone rings out some bizarre electronic tone, common among her sub-species., and she brings the phone to her left ear.
Perfect, I think, as I again adjust my speed to match hers. Her silhouette is now stationary on my windshield. We are on a perfect collision course. Silently my electric motors propel me along the curb.
I send a signal to the traffic signals that control the intersection, telling them to give me the green light. I don’t worry about the crosswalk sign she should obey, she is too focused on the world contained in that tiny device held to her ear.
I chuckle at the thought. The device isn’t so tiny. It fills her hand, nearly hiding her head from me. It is also obstructing her vision of me.
I enter the intersection as she closes in on the cross walk. My timing is perfect. The only thing that can thwart my hunt is her coming to her senses, changing her focus to the world around her.
This is so rare, I doubt it will happen.
She steps off the curb, and the last thing I hear her say is, “Ha, what if I get hit by a bus.”