A terror in the swamp

A monster must remain hidden in order to remain alive.

     I am being hunted and have been for most of my life. The difference now is there’s a bounty for I am deemed a menace. I live and grew up in the swamps of Louisiana, my father was never known by me and my mother took care of us for a time until she merely vanished one day. There are several dangers in the swamps Ive had to learn from an early age, nowadays I am viewed as a menace. 

     Children are taught to fear and avoid me, pets are tethered by chain or rope so they don’t roam beyond their masters sight. Twenty five years of fighting and surviving have made me what I am today, the lord of my domain. I don’t fear those who hunt me despite their advantages, those same advantages have made them soft and weak. That is why they fear.

     My home is being overrun by strangers having no regard for those of us who were here first. The noise of metal skinned monsters with their ceaseless roaring as they carry soft pink skinned hunters with no claw or fang. To compensate they use metal boom sticks that spit fire and iron, no longer must they use stick and stone whilst stalking my kind.

Unlike my siblings and extended relations, my hide is the color of certain fish I often prey upon. My survival depends on cunning and raw power not the easy meals strung from trees to lure me close. Far too often I have witnessed my kind take the easy way only to be caught by some humans deception.

     More and more hunters have began prowling my territory, my off colored hide they wish to put on display. In time I will have to set off and dominate another’s territory, perhaps sooner rather than later.  I am driven by instinct and self preservation, I am the king of alligators.