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Wrong Target

Written by: Screpter

Date: 25/11/2025

Content Warning : vore (oral)

The usual hustle and bustle of the city was nowhere to be seen, which wasn’t unusual considering it was the sleeping cycle for this side of it. At least as far as her research went. She already forgot the name of it. It didn’t matter to her; the only thing that mattered was the bounty.

Ryku’s hands clenched into fists as controlled anger rose within her. Her target, a sniveling venlil who took the corrections, then betrayed his kind by siding with the remains of the Federation, walked this path while on his way home. He always worked late, which meant he didn’t have to see many of the people he so despised. But it also meant he was alone on the street while she waited for the time to strike. And with the constant dawn the city was in on Skalga, a few darker clothes and the unlit alleyway provided the perfect cover for her while she waited.

But while her waiting always paid off at the end, it felt like torture for her. She hated this type of job. Having to remain in place, with nothing better to do, meant her brain worked more. And more thinking meant more memories of the past she would have rather left buried deep within herself. Normally, she preferred to work with others: roam space with her crew, provide protection for hospital ships and merchants for good credit. Board and capture a pirate vessel that would have its crew mysteriously disappear–sometimes with even the captain finding a terrifying end that scum like them deserved. Authorities never questioned it; they were just happy there was less scum to worry about.

But other times… other times she would just roam in random cities. It was never aimless: there were many other emotionally scarred people; people who were hurt by her very species. Two decades have passed, and since then, those who would have been considered prey are now her equals. But two decades were far from enough time to get rid of the fear that was ingrained deep within everyone.

And so, she would roam. She would head into establishments, bars, or restaurants that were willing to open up their business to predators like her. Things were shaky, and many fearful and hatred-filled eyes were on her. Eventually, someone would always end up at her table to give her a mind of their own.

And that’s when she would strike. Not with claws or jaws, not with the intent to hurt. Instead, she would strike with kindness. She would listen and reason. If her new talking partner were young, she would make sure they feel safe with her by being motherly. If they were emotional, she would provide a shoulder to cry on. And when they had nervous or angry energy they needed to get rid of… she would flirt with them. The reactions to those were always fun, but she forced herself to be serious and stay as open as she could. It all felt fake, even though she wanted to atone for what she had done as a huntress.

Most of the time, nothing much would come from the interactions. Some people just weren’t ready to let go of the past, or the scars just went too deep. But those few who opened up were willing to meet her more. With each meeting, her gestures felt less and less robotic. More honest. Flirting turned to seductions, which soon turned into a genuine bond.

And what beautiful bonds those were.

The sound of movement came from her far left. With a quick glance, she ensured the streets were empty, and with another one, she confirmed her target was approaching. Her stomach rumbled with the familiar hunger, and she ran her tongue over her sharp teeth. Scum who hurt others or still served the Federation deserved the worst of the worst, and as her muscles flexed, she was ready to provide just that.

When the venlil reached the alleyway, she sprang forward. Not even a bray of a scream left his throat as she grabbed him, one arm wrapping around his arms and abdomen, while the other held his mouth shut. In just a few seconds, she was already deeper in the alleyway, away from prying eyes or anyone who would hear them. She slammed her catch down onto the ground, straddling his hips to keep him from moving.

“Got you know, Federation scum. Don’t worry, I will make sure your superiors will get what remains of you.” She hissed threateningly, baring her teeth at the left side of his neck. Her catch locked up, tears welling up in his eyes and wetting the perfectly smooth skin under it. Wait… perfectly smooth? No, her target had a claw mark along the left side of their face, right under the eye. Who was…

That’s when the smell hit her. His scent, one that she would never forget. And one that didn’t match the sample she was given for the target. But that didn’t matter now.

Her hand lifted from the venlil’s muzzle, only to grip the old wound on her shoulder. A bad move, as nothing would stop him from screaming now. Thankfully, he was wiser and held his mouth shut. Her attention, however, was on the memory that was brought forward. Yelling, screams of terror and pain. The smell of ozone from all the plasma weapons. The searing pain in her shoulder as one hit her, sending her sprawling to the ground.

By all means, she should have died. She was vulnerable, and not one of her underlings would bother to help her. Why would they? A weak leader is a dead leader. If she can’t help herself, why would anyone do so?

And yet, she was saved. The venlil, at least those who fought alongside the humans, proved to be braver than many. Ironic, if one remembered back to how they were the laughing stock in the Federation: the weak, scaredy cat sheep who would run or freeze when things got dire. The ones who always had to be protected.

When she was pulled to safety, she thought one of her own cared enough about her to make sure she survived. But it wasn’t one of her underlings.

It was the very venlil now shaking underneath her.

“Venar?” She whispered his name while looking at him. She stood up slowly, hands shaking while looking down at him. He looked almost exactly like her target; they could have practically been twins. But that kind of scar her target had was very hard to hide, and it was impossible to fake a scent.

“W-who are you?” The shaking venlil asked, too afraid to stand up, but still scooting backwards. Realising he either didn’t remember her or couldn’t recognise her due to the clothing, she hastily took off the dark sweater she wore. Her breasts were pressed tightly against her chest by gauze so as not to hinder her in her movement. Her hand moved to the visible scarring on her shoulder while she knelt down.

“It’s me, Ryku. Remember? Twenty-some years ago, the end of the war.” She said, trying to keep her voice as soft as she could while trying her best not to look threatening. Hard to do so when you are almost twice the size of a venlil who just got slammed against the ground.

Thankfully, recognition seemed to appear in his eyes. Venar sat up slowly, not taking his eye off of her while doing so. He swallowed anxiously before standing up. She remained in a half-kneeling position while looking at him.

“W-what are you doing here? You are… You are not back to hunting us, are you?” He took a step back, ready to bolt. She exhaled through her nose. She didn’t have time for this; her real target could arrive any minute.

“No. Well, not the usual way.” His muscles clenched, but she stopped him by raising a hand. “I am here for a bounty. A Federation loyalist. Looks almost exactly like you, he just has a scar under his left eye.” Ryku explained, turning her head to listen to any approaching footsteps.

“You mean Vemone? I know there was something fishy about him…” He approached her while tensed. Someone was coming. She really didn’t have time for this now.

She grabbed Venar, as gently as she could. He opened his mouth to protest, but Ryku beat him to it.

“No time, Venar. I promise I will tell you everything, but not now. Listen, I know this might be scary, but… You know about those reformation, right? Good. I promise I will have you reformed. Just don’t fight it, okay?” Before he could respond, her jaws opened, and she pushed his head into her mouth.

He didn’t begin to struggle, which she was thankful for. She tried her best to be gentle as she swallowed and sent him deeper down, not bothering to get a taste of him. If he is willing to catch up later, she could always do so if he agrees to it. If not, well… They could still catch up.

Her tongue worked on slathering up his fur while she listened to any sounds. The steps were getting closer to the alley. She gave several, long swallows to work Venar’s body down, slowly reaching the point where his hindpaws entered her mouth. Her belly began to bulge while she reached into a side pocket and picked up a vial, pouring its contents into her mouth to swallow it with the remainder of her old acquaintance. She intended to use it on her target, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. The concoction would ensure she would digest Venar fast.

Once he was completely inside her, she pulled her sweater back on, already feeling her stomach shrinking. Damn, way too fast. She will have to dilute it next time.

She turned and scampered back towards her spot as silently as she could.

Time to get the real catch.