Murunda looked around the wrecked lab, his eyes gleaming with dark curiosity. Amidst the

chaos, his gaze locked onto a towering figure emerging from the smoke — a monstrous

hybrid. Part human, part beast. A crocodile-human fusion, exuding raw power.

Murunda (to himself): “He is perfect… perfect to kill Adir.”

With a single commanding gesture, Murunda pointed at the creature.

The hybrid stepped forward — a hulking figure with a massive tail dragging behind him,

claws like serrated blades, and skin as tough as ancient crocodile hide. A sickly green aura

pulsed around him, thickening the air with dread.

Murunda: “You are strong. You will lead the attack.”

Aniuman (deep voice): “Yes, my lord.”

Murunda’s lips curled into a wicked smile.

Murunda: “You will be my first hybrid — the beginning of their suffering.”

He walked up to the beast and laid a firm hand on his shoulder.

Murunda: “From this moment, you are Krakash… my perfect servant.”

The hybrid nodded, eyes glowing faintly with obedience.

Murunda: “Go, Krakash. Kill the Phanin boy. Let the city drown in its blood.”

Krakash: “As you command, my lord.”

Murunda (to the others): “The rest of you, follow me. You will master your powers… and

assist Krakash when the time comes. Our reign begins now.”

As Murunda turned, the aniuman followed in silence, their monstrous forms cloaked in the

green haze of corruption.

Krakash, now in the illusion of a stunning woman with long black hair and glowing fair skin,

steps out of the dense forest and walks along a quiet, lonely road. The moonlight glimmers on

the curve of his smile—twisted, sinister.

Krakash (to himself):

“Let me have a little fun before I deal with that snake boy. A few humans for dinner should

warm me up.”

A beat-up SUV cruises down the road and slows as it spots the alluring figure walking alone.

MAN (leaning out the window, smirking):

“Hey, lady! What are you doing out here all by yourself? It’s dangerous, you know?”

Krakash (tilting head, softly):

“Dangerous?”

MAN (laughs):

“Yeah! These woods are full of wild animals. Wouldn’t want anything... eating you.”

Krakash (smiling, voice syrupy sweet):

“Eating me?”

He chuckles under his breath, the sound almost demonic. The man, entranced by the woman's

beauty, opens the door.

MAN (nervous excitement in his voice):

“Come on, let me give you a ride. No one should walk alone at night looking that good.”

Krakash:

“Sure…”

He enters the car, crossing his legs with poise. As they drive, Krakash watches the man

through the corner of his eye. His expression slowly distorts from feminine charm to

something… feral.

The man turns to say something flirtatious—then freezes. Krakash’s skin ripples, shifting

shape, turning muscular, grey, and scaled. His eyes glow red.

MAN (screaming):

“WHAT THE HELL!?”

He fumbles for the door handle, but Krakash strikes first—his mouth stretching impossibly

wide.

Krakash (grinning):

“You’re right. These woods are full of wild animals.”

He lunges forward, and the car rocks violently.

The car, now with scratches and dents, cruises into the city. Behind the wheel is Krakash,

once again appearing as a beautiful woman—but now with a smirk that hints at something...

wrong.

Krakash (to himself):

“Cities are ripe with prey. And here, I can be anything they desire. A damsel, a dream, a

nightmare.”

He walks among the crowd—heels clicking, dress swaying, eyes scanning. A group of

partygoers pass by, one of them—a young woman—glances over and smiles.

WOMAN:

“Hey! You look amazing. Heading to Club Noir?”

Krakash (smiling):

“Thinking about it. Is it fun?”

WOMAN:

“Totally! You should come with us!”

Krakash (faux-innocent):

“I’d love to.”

Music thunders. Lights strobe. Krakash dances with ease, seductive and graceful, blending in

with the humans. No one notices his eyes—occasionally flashing red.

He lures a drunk man toward the back alley with nothing more than a glance.

DRUNK MAN (giddy):

“Didn’t think I’d get this lucky tonight…”

Krakash (sultry whisper):

“You didn’t.”

A moment later, muffled screams echo from the alley before silence returns.

KRAKASH’S INNER THOUGHTS

“They’re easy to fool. Always looking for something beautiful, never wondering what lies

beneath. I could become anyone. Their lover, their friend, their savior…before I become their

end.”

Krakash stands on top of a tall building, licking blood from his fingers as he looks down at

the lights below.

Krakash (softly):

“Soon, this city will scream.”

Days passing…….

A montage shows posters of missing people being plastered on walls, social media feeds

flooded with concerned messages, and news reporters growing more frantic.

NEWS REPORTER (TV voice-over):

“...and yet another local citizen has gone missing under mysterious

circumstances. Police have issued warnings to avoid walking alone at night.”

Krakash, now in the form of a middle-aged woman, sits at a vanity mirror. He hums a lullaby

while putting on lipstick. His reflection flickers between different forms: a child, a young

man, a charming teenager, an old man with a cane.

Krakash (to himself, grinning):

“They never suspect the weak, the kind, the innocent. I wear their trust like a second skin.”

At Street – Night

A CHILD (Krakash in disguise) cries on a corner.

PASSERBY (concerned):

“Hey sweetie, are you lost? Where’s your mommy?”

Krakash (sniffles):

“She… she left me…”

The good Samaritan kneels down, unaware of the monster behind the eyes.

Screams echo. Krakash, now back in monstrous form, finishes devouring the poor soul. He

wipes his mouth and chuckles.

Krakash (mocking tone):

“Such a kind heart. So... tender.”

Detectives gather, photos of missing people pinned to a crime board. No pattern. No suspect.

Just vanishing citizens.

DETECTIVE:

“It’s like the city itself is eating them.”

Krakash, now an elderly blind man with a cane, waits on the edge of the platform.

A commuter helps guide him. Krakash grips the commuter’s hand, his touch turning

unnaturally cold.

COMMUTER:

“You okay, sir?”

Krakash (grinning under his breath):

“Never better.”

The lights flicker—and when they return, only the blind man remains. But his shadow

twitches unnaturally.

Hidden deep beneath the city, a twisted shrine is forming—mementos from his victims:

jewelry, clothes, wallets. Krakash now sits in the center, meditating.

He opens his eyes. A faint hiss echoes in the chamber.

Krakash (to himself):

“Soon... the snake boy will come looking. Good. Let him come. Let him witness what I’ve

become.”

The city begins to whisper his name. People speak of a shapeshifter. A demon in disguise. A

devourer of humans.

But no one knows when they’ll see his face next—because he might already be smiling back

at them.