The enormous bear crept along the bank of the small stream with silent mincing paw steps. His eyes focused intently upon his prey. A toddler squatted by the water playing with a small block of wood holding a bit of rag for a toy sail. The flesh-eater froze in place as the little girl leaned over the floating device and blew into the sail to make the object move away from her. The bear knew he could rush her now, but she smelled sweet and would undoubtedly be nasty tasting. He preferred to feast upon running and bleating animals. Panic added a satisfying bitter flavor to the blood, and the quivering of bunched muscles made a delightful texture.
He considered himself extraordinary, delighted in his knowledge of self. Bears found in the wilderness feared his tremendous size. Only once had he tried to mate with one before satisfying his appetite in frustration.
His nose provided a delicate surveillance instrument capable of relating to his surroundings in detail from a wide-ranging distance. The monster silently stood on hind legs to sniff the local terrain. A dark wave of shadow flowed across the water towards the child as he rose. It rapidly blanketed the toy boat and continued to envelop the girl who turned, looked up, and screamed. The smell of terror made him drool. Larger two-legs always accompanied little ones. Usually, the small cries brought more food, and this occurrence provided no exception. He ate his fill, rummaged in the house for treats and decided to sleep where piles of straw and hay were kept. He hated high winds, rain, and hail. Storms were the only thing he feared. Years ago, a tempest attacked him with large hail and lightning. The falling ice chunks hurt. A storm accosted him by surprise while he hunted in the open fields near a two-leg settlement. He escaped from the relentless pummeling hail by sheltering in a wooden cave. The cave harbored breakfast stock and grain. The repast satiated his appetite and allowed him to sleep fitfully after a brief slaughter. He learned to avoid storms and never passed a wooden cave without investigating the contents.
In dreams, he always found himself alone; alone and frustrated because an insatiable appetite continuously kept him moving towards his next meal. Awake, he exemplified an abomination.
The Cosmos recognized him as a construct; a manufactured animal made from the gene pool of many other creatures, including man. His created DNA incorporated aspects of an ultimate predator and his very existence represented a disharmonic note in the balance of the universe.