"What do you mean 'a beast Nicolas Sarkozy'?!" He yelled into the phone as he sat in his room in his small New York apartment, he launched the phone into the wall in anger, completely destroying it. He began to think about what kind of beast could've made it to France and kill the former President. 'I need to get over there.' He thought as he quickly packed his bag, and carried his axe to his car in the back alley. Then he quickly drove to a shipping yard and met with one of his close contacts. After a few days on the wretched boat, he was in France. "Now the fun begins."

The Australian heat hung thickly in the corners of the small dilapidated hut where Del waited patiently for her latest contract. Smuggler. That's what the client had called him, among many other more foul names, as he had dropped a small pouch of treasures into the woman's waiting hand. The Mortis name, although tainted by her mother, carried an assurance to it that encouraged most of her smarter clients to pay up front. Besides, most mortals had no desire to be caught in her serpentine stare more than once; they knew she was more than capable of finishing their "jobs". From a distance, Del heard the footsteps she'd been anticipating. In rhythm they walked closer and closer to the splintered wooden door, the ocean waves pushing against the sandy shore in full force as the moon shone authoritatively above. Her eyelids were gently shut, her body no more than a piece of the white-washed walls covered in fish netting, the footsteps had reached the steps now. A small exhale released from Del's body as her hands silently slid down to concealed twin daggers between her legs. Creeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak, the hinges wailed in protest as a taut, pale arm reached around the frame. The man was abnormally thin with dark, hollow eyes from what could only be hunger and fatigue. His bearded face had a long, recently clotted laceration stretching from his widow's peak to his neckline. Del could smell the semi-fresh wound even before her wicked eyes shot open. In a movement too quick for a mortal to perceive, Del's muscular arm was wrapped tightly around the fragile man's collar bone. She squeezed his back against her feminine body, the force constricting his exhausted lungs. Her sensual lips brushed against his ear as she whispered sinisterly, "Who else is hunting you, mortal?" The man made a few feeble attempts to loosen Del's grip on his body, but her wrists held firm. "I...can...ple, ca... brea..." Del rolled her eyes in annoyance before slightly releasing the man's chest. He choked on the musty air, grimy sweat rolling down his forehead, and faintly answered Del's question. "Emissaries. French emissaries." The man's sweat mingled with the salt of his tears as he began to plead, "Please, I have a family. I can give you information about the attack if you'll protect me from those..."

Before the smuggler could finish, Del clapped a hand over his filthy mouth. She held a warning finger against her throat as she pushed the man deep into the corner she had once been hiding in. He remained fearfully silent as Del crept towards the open door, listening intently. In an instant, her fingers curled around the hilts of her daggers, lodging them securely into the broad neck that had just stumbled into the open room. The bulky Frenchman fell to the floor, his limbs writhing in silent agony as the poison worked its way throughout his body. Del straddled the dying man, crouching so low to his chest that her thighs brushed against his leather armor. She stroked her silken finger across his jawline before ripping her daggers from his flesh. A final grunt and spasm wrecked through him as Del casually stood and turned to face her original, cowering target. She grabbed the man be his weathered shirt collar and pulled him forcefully to face her. "I'm not one for small talk, but you've peaked my interest. What attack, and be quick about it... your little 'friend' has dampened my mood." With a trembling tongue the man enlightened Del about an attack in France which has supposedly killed someone of great importance. Despite his cowardice, he had spitefully added that the culprit was suspected to be a were-bastard. At this sentiment, Del cocked her head slightly and leaned in towards him. Her breath was hot against his nose and lips as she muttered, "A were-bastard saved your life..." His breathing became shallow as his widened eyes met Del's hypnotic gaze, "and subsequently ended it." She pressed her lips fiercely to his own, delivering her adder's venom with a flick of her tongue. She threw him to the floor and spat on both dead bodies before sauntering out the door.

Del swam gracefully through the dim ocean waters, creatures below slinking away at her fearsome presence. The waves lapped over her arms and legs and her mind raced with the words of her latest victim. It wasn't uncommon for her kind to attack mortals, there were many who did without any promise of monetary reward, but to kill the leader of a well-known country. She dove below the surface of the water as the wind impeded her visibility from above. Her scaled skin shone beautifully in the moonlight as she raced around the cape of Africa and through the cold Atlantic waters. She would reach France's shoreline by dawn, but her thoughts were plagued by what and who could possibly be waiting to greet her. She somersaulted playfully and bubbles trailed in her wake. On the other hand, she thought, a rendezvous in Paris would be exhilarating!

It was a cool, chill night along the Parisian waterways. Happy voices wafted over the water, coming from people happily eating in the many restaurants that lined the river. Happy people. Unsuspecting people. You see, the waterways were not calm at all. At least, on the surface they were, but under it, something was lurking which was certainly not calm, or happy. The waterways that snake across Paris made a perfect hunting ground for the Finned Beast. Lots of easy prey, people who sat with their legs dangling into the water. Some even swimming, oblivious, or maybe just in denial of the existence of the Beast. Who knows. Suddenly, a person sat down at a restaurant that prompted excited gasps and whispers from the people around him. Obviously someone importance. A pair of white eyes rose up from the river and looked over to the buzz of noise, waiting for something to be within striking distance.

The important man finished his dinner, and after taking a few pictures with eager people, and signing a few autographs, wandered over to the waters edge for a quick moment. This was what the Finned Beast was lying in wait for. A dark, sleek shape burst from the water, claws slashing and teeth bared for impact. The man screamed, as the Beast grabbed his ankle and pulled him into the water. The area was quickly filled with wide eyed people, who rushed over to see what the hell had happened. As flashlights were shined onto the surface, a sick red permeated the surface of the water, where a disembodied hand floated lifelessly on the surface. People gagged, threw up and cried. A dark fin was steadily heading away from the bloodied water, which people noticed and screamed at, but it was gone as nearly as it appeared.

A good way down the river, the Finned Beast was eating his latest catch. The prey had suffered no pain, his throat being cut by the Beast's teeth as soon as the prey went under the water. From there the Beast had carried his quarry down the river to a large hole in the concrete sides of the water, where it heartily devoured the prey. In less than an hour there would be only scraps left.

Of course, the Finned Beast had no concept, or idea, or the ramifications of its actions. No idea of the importance of its latest prey. No idea of the chaos he would cause. It was just a predator. And predators hunt.

"huh, well this is new" peering down the scope of his Brügger & Thomet APR as he watched the killing unfold and as soon as he took notice of the fin disappearing deeper into the water. Alin quickly followed in suit yanking a cellphone out his pocket dialing the contact number of his client he speaks a few clear words on the phone. "Target is dead, deposit the money in the agreed location." Knowing that the money would be ready for him to pick up once he is done in Paris, After the phone call he threw the phone into the waterway still intent on following the more out of curiosity then anything else.

"Monsieur, please I just want to know if any of the dock workers here saw the creature that attacked earlier today." A police officer with an exhausted look on his face stared up at the man who he was trying to question. "I already told ya, nobody has seen anything." The man, who's face is one of rising anger, shakes his head. "If that thing what attacked went into the water as ya said, it did nay come o'er here." The cop nodded his head, "Alright well then since this the fifth time you've been asked I guess no one her has seen anything, thank you for your cooperation, bonjour." The cop turns and leaves entering his car he drives off. A another dock worker approaches the man who was being questioned, "Hey boss, why'd ya tell that pig we ain't seen dat thing what kilt dat dude?" The man turns to the other dock worker, "Because lad, you know how I feel about humans." The second worker chuckles, "Yea I knows how youse feels about humans." The first smiles, "Besides, we had planned to take out that guy, during that speech of his tomorrow. And that thing... well it's of great interest to the family, something that can rip a squad of elite guards into ribbons in less than 3 seconds would be quite useful to us." The second smiled and turned to look out over the ocean,"Yeah boss, that would be useful. Especially if you, the great John Macintyre could capture that thing. It would rise you up higher in the family." John turned to face the open ocean as well, throwing his arm over the other dock workers shoulder, "Yeah it would lad, except the fact that I'm already the family's number one enforcer.But that's besides the point if we capture that thing and bring it back to The Boss... well lets just say I need a number two, and if we catch that thing I'll put in a good word for ya."

As he drove around this new city, he began to smell something unusual. "There're more..." He pulled into an alley way as the clock ticked midnight. He took off his clean clothes and turned into his full bear form and strapped his axe to his back and climbed up the building. "Time to make some friends." He thought ti himself as he let out an extremely loud roar that was heard all throughout the city. Then he sat on the roof out of sight and waited. He didn't want a fight but wasn't afraid of one.