Isle of Teeth - Chapter 3 – Raptors in the Mist

The raptors moved with terrifying precision, weaving through the ferns like shadows with teeth. There were at least half a dozen of them, each the size of a man, their sickle claws glinting as they slashed at the air.

The sauropods bellowed and lumbered toward the river, their immense bulk sending tremors through the earth. Trees snapped under their panicked retreat. But the raptors weren’t after giants; their yellow eyes locked on smaller prey—anything that strayed, anything slower.

Victor Kade stood at the ridge, arms folded, beaming as though unveiling a priceless work of art. “Astonishing, aren’t they?” he said, his voice nearly drowned by the chaos below.

“You knew!” Eliza snapped, her hands trembling. “You brought us here knowing this—this nightmare was waiting!”

“They’re not nightmares, Doctor. They’re miracles.”

One of the raptors leapt, sinking teeth into the flank of a young sauropod. Blood sprayed across the foliage, a vivid slash of crimson. The herd’s cries echoed like trumpets of doom.

Marcus swore under his breath. “This isn’t science—it’s slaughter.”

Claire’s camera shook in her hands, but she didn’t stop filming. “The world needs to see this,” she whispered.

The raptors fed with ruthless efficiency, working in pairs, darting in and out, pulling their victim down with terrifying coordination. It was over quickly—the young sauropod’s trumpeting cut off in a shuddering gasp. The jungle fell eerily silent, save for the raptors’ low, satisfied growls.

Then, as though aware they were being watched, one raptor raised its snout and sniffed. Its gaze shifted upward—to the ridge. To them.

Eliza’s stomach dropped. “Oh no.”

The raptor let out a piercing shriek. Others lifted their heads, blood streaking their muzzles. Then, in unison, they bounded toward the slope.

“Back to camp!” Daniel barked, his soldier’s instinct kicking in. “Move, now!”

They ran. Roots clawed at their boots, vines whipped at their arms, the jungle itself seemed to conspire against them. Behind, the raptors crashed through undergrowth, their guttural calls echoing ever closer.

Claire stumbled but Marcus grabbed her arm, yanking her upright. Ortega clutched his satchel of plants as though it could protect him, gasping with each stride. Eliza’s lungs burned, but fear pushed her forward.

Daniel skidded to a halt at a narrow choke point between boulders. He pulled a flare from his belt, snapped it alight, and hurled it. The raptors hissed as the flare’s smoke and fire filled the gap, halting their pursuit for the moment.

“Go!” he shouted.

They didn’t stop running until the jungle thinned and the beach came into sight, the torches of camp flickering ahead. Only then did they collapse in the sand, chests heaving, hearts hammering.

Victor arrived last, strolling almost casually, dusting sand from his sleeves. He looked delighted.

“You see now,” he said, as though they had simply witnessed a marvellous play. “Predators and prey, locked in eternal struggle. Nature, restored to its rawest form. Isn’t it magnificent?”

Eliza stared at him in disbelief. “Magnificent? Those things almost killed us!”

Victor’s grin never faltered. “Ah, but they didn’t. That’s what makes it thrilling.”

Source: Some or all of the content was generated using an AI language model