An Ancient Thing
They waited, patiently. They always had. Never allowing their hunger to rule over their need for stealth. Their absolute need to remain unknown. If the prey knew of them it would end them. The hunters would become the hunted. So they waited, ravenous. Their hunger becoming a lust towards their prey. Young, old, male, female, it made no difference to them. Although some secretly preferring the young females. Generally they were the easiest prey anyway. Their innocence was like a scent on the breeze, calling to them. Luring them from their many hiding places, to feast on the souls and the flesh of these young innocents.