Ashes (Of the Earth Series)

Danny's Guide (The Stalker)

Greetings, fellow survivors and those who have somehow managed to avoid becoming hors d'oeuvre for our otherworldly visitors. Gather 'round and listen up, because it's your buddy Danny back again with another slice of "Oh Crap, What Now?" in this edition of my not-yet-bestseller, "Danny's Guide to Not Dying... Immediately."

Today's featured creature is one that will send shivers down your spine. I'm talking about the cunning and elusive "Stalker" - a name I've given it because calling it "Oh Dear God, What Is That Thing" seemed a bit too long. "Danny's Super Awesome But Definitely The Only Person to See This Insanity" didn't fit, either. 

Picture this: a shadowy figure standing at a towering nine feet, looking like it spends most of its time lurking in the shadows of a Planet Fitness like it's its own personal playground. This creature doesn't just have a six-pack; it has a thirty-pack. But don't mistake it for some bulked-up bodybuilder on steroids, like most Reavers. No no no no, the Stalker is sleek, agile, and moves with a fluid grace that I took as an insult having recently tripped over my own feet running from an angry raccoon.

But that's not all – this creature has a head adorned with a crown that could scrape the ceiling of your old apartment – bringing it up to at least twelve feet tall if it's an inch. Its got these tendrils on its back that whip around and stab things, and a tail that has something akin to a cross between a medieval torture weapon and a Klingon bat'leth at the tip. Its skin resembles a mix between the night sky and medieval chainmail - dark but with eerie blue patterns that glow like bio-luminescent sea creatures. And let's not forget about its eyes... If looks could kill, there wouldn't need to be any other Turned creatures. This thing would have defeated us by itself. They seem to stare into your soul, calculating every move and anticipating their next meal.

You've already read about the Matriarchs, if there is a King among the Turned, this is it, the "Patriarch." And we are not bringing down the Patriarchy today, ladies, it's just not going to happen. 

Don't be fooled by its monstrous appearance; this creature also possesses intelligence beyond our understanding. It could probably beat you at a game of chess without even touching the pieces – simply by giving you a single glance. Because you'd faint and forfeit. 

But here's the real kicker – the Stalker can shape-shift. One moment, it could be posing as your friend begging for the last can of beans; the next, it's nine feet of "Whoops, there goes my will to live." 

Now for the survival tip – and listen closely because this one could save your life. If you see the Stalker, just keep walking. Don't provoke it or try to fight back. Just keep your head down and move on. Why? Well, let's just say I'll explain once I make it home and change my soiled pants.

Dear diary and potential future toilet paper, I made it home. Danny again here with an update that might make you rethink your "trust no one" mentality. 

Now, remember that nine-foot-tall, horned shadow I mentioned before? Scrap half of the terror, because, as far as I can tell, there's only one of these guys around. That's right, uno. And it's not looking to add you to its dinner plans. I know, shocker, right? In a world where everything seems to want a piece of you—literally—this thing is like a monk. Hit it and it goes kung fu, but leave it alone and it'll more or less leave you be.

So, imagine me, your intrepid and increasingly paranoid guide, taking a leisurely fear-fueled puckered cheek walk through the woods. That's when I spot it: the Stalker, in all its towering, otherworldly glory, in battle with other Turned! You read that right. I heard booming and roaring, so being the moron I am, snuck towards it. There's the midnight blue thing fighting at least twenty Prowlers and Reavers in a pack. 

He picked one Turned up and beat another one to death with his buddy. Yessir/ma'am/person reading this, he beat a motherfucker with another motherfucker.  It was like witnessing the most glorious train wreck in history. After he'd literally ripped every single one of the bastards to pieces - I'm talking body parts everywhere, he wandered off towards a nearby stream and started washing himself. Crouched down, washing that nasty blue blood off himself and splashing water on his own wounds. Which were more or less gone, by the way. Fucker healed at a rate that was insane. We all have shot a Reaver only to have it come back five minutes later with a much smaller hole in it than it has a right to have, but this was very different. Then it starts shifting!

Shifting! Yeah, you heard me. Shrank, skin got all pink, spikes sucked back into its head. One moment, it's the thing of legends; the next, it's Joe Dude taking a butt naked hooker bath in the stream, no less.

I'm behind a tree, trying to decide if I'm hallucinating, and then it happens. I step on a branch, and he stops, looking up.

The Stalker, now more human than horror, catches my eye and... gives me an awkward wave. Like a "Hey, didn't see you there while I was naked suntanning in my yard" neighborly wave. I waved back. What else are you gonna do? Then, of all things, it said, "Hey, uh... You mind if I put some clothes on?"

Now, I can hear you asking, "Danny, why didn't you lead with this before?" Well, dear reader, because I didn't want to give you false hope. It's like finding a non-moldy potato chip in a bag full of crumbles. You gotta savor it, not broadcast it.

Here's the really crazy part: It's not dangerous. I mean, it hasn't been dangerous... to me, at least. It's like we've both got an understanding. I don't try to shoot it and avert my eyes from his massive horse dong; in return, he doesn't turn into the closest possible thing I've ever seen to a God and beat me to death with my own legs. 

It's a simple arrangement that I'm more than happy to keep. He hangs around the city and keeps the other Turned away, usually hides when other humans come around. Having said that, I've seen the aftermath of a few raiders that decided to take potshots at him and well... I've avoided taking potshots at him for a reason. He knows me by sight, too, and we've even chatted a little bit - from a distance, of course - "Hey Ezekiel!" style. You remember that video? God, I miss YouTube. I'd be famous for this you know.

So, to wrap up - as always how do you survive an encounter with the Stalker? You don't need to do a thing. Just nod, wave, and maybe tip your hat if you're feeling fancy. He's hard to miss, you'll know him when you see him. 

And there you have it, the tale of the Stalker: the one creature in this guide that might just wave back instead of ripping your arm off. It's a wild world out there, but sometimes, it's the wild things that surprise you the most.

Keep this guide handy, survivors. Not all shadows are out to get you, and not all that glow in the dark want to make you glow from the inside. Until next time, keep your feet swift, your wits about you, and maybe, just maybe, don't be afraid to wave back.