[quote=@Tank O The Lake]
*A fleet of spacecraft emerges from warpspace in orbit of a remote world.  They appear heavily damaged, with several not even possessing functioning life support.  A window on a frigate blows out and releases a white-hot streak of flame into the void.  These ships should not be spaceworthy, and yet here they are.  Perhaps an explanation can be gained from the green-black slime that stretches around and coats the thrusters of each ship.  The stuff forms tendrils that snake about and link different ships together, forming tunnels between each one.  On the surface of one ship, the slime forms green pustules that cling to the hull and contain wriggling dark forms.  On another, a similar node appears to have attached itself to the barrel of its spinal cannon.  I stand at the bow of the flagship, ignoring the screams, gunfire, and more profane noises coming from the bowels of the ship.  I pat my full belly, a bloody, empty hazmat suit laying in tatters behind me.  Several humans wearing similar outfits dangle by their feet from the ceiling, their torsos cut open and leaking blood.  Inside each gaping chest cavity, a small, white object slowly grows.  I hear muffled cries for mercy coming from the crew quarters, now converted in personal chambers for my kin.  What am I?  I am a Wither, a superhuman, psychopathic creature incapable of feeling joy from any source but suffering.*

*Another Wither approaches behind me.*

Wither: We've captured the last of the crew, Lash.  What should we do?

Divide them amongst yourselves, Phantom, but save some for me.  And don't 'confiscate' any of their medical equipment, we need that.

*Phantom smiles cruelly.*

Phantom: Do you have any particular game planned for them?  Me and Banshee are going to play the Cutting and Sewing Game.

You always play the Cutting and Sewing Game.  How many arms stuck to one person is enough for you?

Phantom: It's just so fun!

But, to your previous question.  I don't have any game planned for them now.  I find it more fun to just do... whatever comes to mind.  I have a feeling I'll come up with a really fun game, though.  Once I do, I'll save some captives to play it in the mess hall, so you all can see.

Phantom: I can't wait!

Good.
[/quote]

*Above the world we circle.  Using the scanners of our hijacked ships, we scan the surface.  This reveals scattered clusters of boxy structures surrounded by sandbags or walls.  The night side of the planet is dotted with the occasional, isolated bunch of yellow lights.  I laugh, thinking of how easy the population would be to subdue and the joy I would savor while playing my games with them.*

Get the cannon, Phantom.

Phantom: Yes, Lash.

*The ship with the node stuck to its gun turns around to face the opposite direction of its orbit.  Then, it fires, launching the node at a retrograde trajectory, aimed to strike one of the largest population centers on the planet.  In less than 10 minutes, it strikes directly onto their town square.  A camera watches as dozens of curious humans dressed in 19th-century attire gather around the impact site.  Then, like a blooming flower, the node opens, releasing six Withers.  They speak, allowing their psychic ability to pacify the crowd.  Then, they strike.  They pounce onto their victims, sometimes biting them on the torso and injecting embryos to further the race, and sometimes simply swallowing them whole before regurgitating their acid-coated remains as projectiles.  I am disappointed in the fact that the camera does not have an audio recorder and I cannot, therefore, hear their dying screams.  I am still happy to see the crowd massacred, with some left comatose and implanted to birth new Withers.  I tune off the screen once the square has been deserted and occupy the next few hours looking down at the city and watching as its lights slowly go out.*