Several nights passed with her turning away from him in bed, digging a cold ditch between herself and Zoltán. Zoltán knew what this meant. When a person grows uncertain about their relationship but yet doesn’t dare to say it out loud, they enter a pupal stage, like a caterpillar, allowing their emotions time to transform until they’re ready to make the final decision. Zoltán looked into the girl’s eyes, and now, knowing that soon, maybe in a matter of seconds, their relationship could end, she seemed even more beautiful to him than before.

‘You can’t understand me until you’ve tried it yourself.’

‘What?’ Zoltán asked, though fully aware of what she meant. ‘What should I try?’

The girl had found a community online, the members of which – like her – had rediscovered a secret, ancient, primordial passion through mistreating pets. Not all of them were dog biters; there were some who, instead of biting, achieved the same effect through asphyxiation or even more exquisite methods which Nikolett didn’t want to explain and Zoltán didn’t want to hear.

This community had a dating site. Even if she had to go abroad, Nikolett wanted a man who understood her on a deeper level. A man who understood her true needs and didn’t just accept them.

‘You are important to me. So I’m giving you a chance,’ she said to Zoltán. Her arms and thighs had gotten more muscular from her hunts, her gaze calm with the promise of violence. Zoltán loved this girl; he loved her in a way that he couldn’t find words for, loved her even if loving her was dangerous, even if this whole thing was madness. Even if she was madness.

He felt safe by her side.

They ordered clothes for Zoltán: a black sweater, matching jogging pants, a cap, and a mask. His socks were black as well. They left for the hunt after eleven. There was some thrill even to this because it was well after curfew and the police or the militia could have easily caught them.

The police, however, didn’t care about the area, neither the dogs nor the people. Whoever walked these streets walked them alone, finding their way in the dark, and in a world without police and without militia, without anyone to uphold the laws and protect those who could fall victim, everyone walking these streets was forced to assume the role of either predator or prey.

‘I’m a predator! A fucking predator!’ Zoltán told himself. He might have even said it aloud in a whisper, but who could tell under the black mask? He told himself he was a predator, but he felt like he was walking in a nightmare.