Like a moth it was drawn to the light, it’s dual fins rippling through the ink blue water. Silently it advanced fast as a blink, one moment far out of sea, the next at the shore and leaping through the surf and onto the rocks.

It’s scales glistened in the moonlight and claws scraped at the rock and then it stood, and took it’s human form. Tall and regal he leapt up the rocks, one minute covered in rough scales, the next bare skin dark as the skies above and then in finery as he arrived on the quay.

A fisherman looked his way and wondered why such a fine gent was out in the harbour at this time of day. And then he returned to his nets as the stranger made his way to town. He was human now, but a human with rows of teeth like razors and fingernails like claws.

And tonight he was on a mission, a mission called revenge.

For at the top of the hill lived the man who had killed his wife. A man who had no idea that he was about to get a visit from his worst nightmare.