Unknown Carnage

In West Virginia, deep in the Appalachian Mountains, a private car traveled along a mountain road. The driver listened to the classic "Take Me Home, Country Roads" while chewing on a burrito as he drove.

It was close to dusk, but the sky was still bright. The sun was slowly setting before him, glaring a little in his eyes.

Suddenly, he seemed to spot something. He narrowed his eyes for a closer look, then let out a breath of relief.

Judging by its shape, it was a moose sitting on the ground.

These big creatures were not uncommon in the Appalachian Mountains. Generally speaking, as long as no one angered these enormous animals, there would be no trouble. The driver had already decided to speed past it.

The moose seemed wary of the steel monster passing by and stared intently at the car. The driver thought there was something strange about the animal, but he could not put his finger on it.

Suddenly, as if something had struck him, the driver nearly choked on his burrito because of his own guess. In panic, he leaned over the steering wheel and stared fixedly at the moose, now only a few dozen meters away.

There was no mistake. That was not a moose at all! Its antlers looked like a moose's, its fur looked like a moose's, and everything about it looked like a moose's—except for one thing.

Its eyes.

Normal moose, like most herbivores, had eyes on the sides of their heads to give them a broad enough field of vision to evade predators. But this moose was different. Its eyes were more like a wolf's, set on the front of its face. Like a predator, it stared straight ahead.

No, though they were still completely black, he felt they looked