Of the Night Stalker, there is no history, only stories. There are ancient tales woven into the lore of every race and every culture, of an impossible time before sunlight and daytime, when night reigned alone and the world was covered with the creatures of darkness — creatures like Balanar the Night Stalker.

It is said that on the dawn of the First Day, all the night creatures perished. All, that is, save one. Evil's embodiment, Night Stalker delights in his malevolence. He created the primal role of the Night Terror, the Boogeyman, and as long as there have been younglings, his is the specter summoned to terrify them. This is a role he relishes; nor are these empty theatrics. He does indeed stalk the unwary, the defenseless, those who have strayed beyond the lighted paths or denied the warnings of their communities. Night Stalker serves as living proof that every child's worst nightmare... is true.

---

Evil, unsurprisingly, is a rather hard thing to define in terms of the time before the First Day. What is evil, when there is no good to compare it with? Could a creature born in such a time really be defined as evil? Learned scholars would argue, of course, that the Night Stalker has had plenty of time to learn the ways of the light — yet by all known accounts, Balanar loses much of his strength in the sunlight. It's not surprising that he would avoid any association with light, considering his circumstances.

You let out a soft sigh as you stare at your barely-completed paper. You're a scholar, but your assigned topic was, of all things, the Night before the First Day. You've been working on the paper for days, but there's just little to no information you can actually use! You're aware of Balanar the Night Stalker, of course — few scholars aren't — but he's the only source of information that you're aware of on the First Night.

Which makes things difficult, obviously. You can't exactly find him to interview him. Creatures like Balanar weren't found — they were the ones to find you, and short of plastering advertisements all over the city, you don't exactly have a good way of asking the Night Stalker for an interview. Worse than that, he's more likely to eat you than actually answer your questions. Even if you are trying to be sympathetic towards him! It's not like he's known for much else.

"Now that's a little rude, don't you think?" The sound is enough to inspire terror — a deep, rumbling growl of a voice, intimidation and predator all rolled up into one. You spin around, startled, only to come face to face with a jaw full of teeth and smirking green eyes.

"I, uh—" You cast about for something to say. Anything that sounds intelligent would be good. "I didn't know you could read minds," you finish lamely.

God dammit.

Balanar gives you an amused tilt of the head and raises a brow slightly. You're briefly distracted by how astonishingly expressive he is, and how handsome it makes him look — then you glance down at the paper you're writing, and blink a few times.

Oh. Apparently, you've been writing down every one of your thoughts, including the ones that were supposed to be private, personal thoughts. And the part where you thought he was handsome. You really needed to get a hang of that habit.

"Handsome?" The Night Stalker shakes his head. "Can't say I've heard that one before. You know, on account of these."

He opens his jaw, showing off rows upon rows of teeth. You're pretty sure that they would be able to cut you to ribbons in seconds. You gulp. "Well, I... have weird tastes?" You offer. "I don't suppose I can interview you, now that you're here?"

"Well, I was going to eat you," Balanar replies, giving you a sharp look that has you scratching the back of your head in embarrassment. "But I might be able to spare time for an interview. Fire away, little human."

"What was it like?" You ask, immediately pulling out a notepad. "The time before the First Day, I mean."

The next hour or so passes by in a blur. You're surprised — Balanar is actually interesting to talk to, and he's got a lot of facts about the First Night that's new to you. You're going to be hard pressed to prove most of it, of course, considering not many people would believe you've had a personal encounter with the Night Stalker himself. But that's just part and parcel of the job; once you know the facts, it should be easy enough to find a way to prove it, anyway.

Remarkably, the Night Stalker also has a sense of humor. It's something you add into your notes.

"You're not really a lot like the legends say," you note after a moment, looking up at Balanar. The Night Stalker looks away from you for a moment. His large, bat-like wings flutter behind him, almost as though he's... nervous?

Nah. That can't be it.

"I was," he grunts after a moment. You take the opportunity while he's not looking at you to look over him carefully; he's dressed exactly like the reports say, which is to say, he's not dressed in much at all. His lower body is armored, but his upper body is fully exposed, with bulging biceps, pecs, and abdominal muscles.

"What changed?" You ask, carefully returning your gaze to his eyes as he turns back to look at you. The behemoth of a creature shrugs slightly.

"It's as you guessed," he tells you. "There wasn't much in the way of light before the First Day. I'm not saying I'm a good person, or that I'll ever be one, but things have changed."

"You started having to fight alongside others," you guess, and the Night Stalker nods.

"I had people to rely on." Balanar shrugs, uncomfortably. It's clear the monstrous creature isn't used to talking about emotional things — which is all the more impressive, considering the two of you have been talking for all of an hour. You wonder if it's because you're mortal. If he wanted to, Balanar could easily remove you from the world, and there would again be no witnesses to his story. In the meantime, you're one of the few people that would actually be willing to listen to his side of the story. "And I had people that rely on me. I've never actually had that before."

You can't help but smile slightly at that. Balanar shoots you a slightly offended look, and you snicker, nudging him playfully. You can't help but feel at ease around the monster now. It's a little fast, you suppose, but the fact that the Night Stalker has been acting so surprisingly human has caught you off guard.

It helps that he's exceedingly handsome and just so happens to be shirtless. You can't help but let your eyes stray towards his chest every so often — although if Balanar notices, he doesn't point it out. You're somewhat grateful for that fact, even though part of you hopes he does notice.

"Why are you here?" You ask next. You'd never quite figured that out, while talking to the monster — he'd been answering your questions dutifully, yet shied away from the things he apparently did at night. You have no idea what he would be doing in your home. Or what his intention might have been, before he realised what you were trying to do.

"I don't know," Balanar admitted after a moment. "I've been... reconsidering myself for a while. There's only so much terror you can inspire before it just starts to become the same thing, over and over. I've heard so many screams every night at this point that I just wanted to find something new."

You tilt your head, thinking for a moment.

"Not that I'm tired of terrorizing, mind you," Balanar growls suddenly, looking at you with sharp eyes. You snap your mouth shut. "Do not mistake my search for weakness."

"I don't, I don't," you say hurriedly, shaking your head. "That's... no, that's the opposite of what I think, actually."

"It is?" Balanar seems bewildered.

"It takes strength for people to move away from what's familiar to them," you shrug. "Not a lot of people ever move out of their comfort zone."

"I don't need a pep talk," Balanar snarls at you. You're suddenly reminded that the creature has a lot of teeth, and after a moment's consideration, you decide to abandon the train of thought you were on.

"Okay, nevermind that then," you mutter. "How about I give you something else you could do with your nights?"

"Like what?" Balanar still seems a little huffy, considering the little growls he's letting out under his breath. You consider your situation for a moment.

Ah, fuck it. You'd deal with the consequences if Balanar didn't appreciate your advances. Not like you had that much of a chance of surviving the night, anyway — you could tell that the bloodlust in the Night Stalker's eyes was slowly rising as the moon rose further in the air. Such was the case for a lot of the creatures whose powers were tied to the night; it's no particular surprise that the same would be true for the Night Stalker.

Leaning forward, you put a hand on Balanar's chest. You make your voice as low and seductive as possible, and let your breath ghost by the Night Stalker's ear. "I can think of a few things..."

Balanar stiffens. For a moment, you're afraid you did something very, very wrong.

Then the Night Stalker snarls again, and this time you hear a different kind of lust. "You better not be messing with me..."

"I'm not," you murmur, your lips pressing against Balanar's neck. You're a little too nervous to kiss him directly — he has a lot of teeth, after all. You press your smaller body against the Night Stalker's frankly monstrous form, your cock rubbing against his stomach through the fabric of your pants. If he needs proof that you're not just trying to screw with him — except in a very literal sense — then the hardness between your legs is more than enough proof.

You hear a growl, and the armor beneath you shifts slightly. You climb off long enough to start fumbling with the metal, eager to release Balanar's cock and see if it fit the rest of him — thick and monstrous — but the Night Stalker beats you to the punch. Rather than simply remove his armor, he uses powerful talons to rip straight through the metal.

You're momentarily stunned by the display of strength.

Just momentarily. More distracting is the size of the cock that's freed when the metal falls apart; Balanar's cock definitely fits his monstrous size. That thing has to be at least the length of your head, and thick enough that your fingers could barely wrap around it. You hear a low, rumbling growl from the Night Stalker that's more of a command than anything else. He doesn't need to use words, and you don't need to hear them. You know what he wants.

Leaning down, you press your face against the enormous cock, licking eagerly at the head. It tastes like everything you wanted — dark and musky, with the faint taste of precum as the liquid oozes out of the tip. You slide his foreskin down, running your tongue eagerly along the underside of his cock, and you hear him groan as it jumps in your hands. You can practically feel the blood pulsing through it. You reach down, feel for his balls, fondle them playfully.

Then you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. There's no way the whole thing can fit down your throat, not without killing you — and when you look up, you see that Balanar is fully aware of this as well. His entire form is trembling, every one of his muscles tensed as he did his utmost not to take control and thrust his cock deep into your throat; he wants to let you work at your own pace, and you're grateful for that fact.

Grateful enough to give it a try. You know you can't deepthroat the monster, but it doesn't stop you from shoving it as deep down your throat as you possibly can, earning a loud snarl from the monster as he grips at the frame of your bed hard enough to crack it. You gag slightly at the sheer size, the sizeable volume of precum dripping down your throat and forcing you to swallow around it.

You pull up to breathe. Even then, your hand continues stroking away at the Night Stalker's monstrous cock, wanting to please him. You can hear the deep, panting breaths, the growls and snarls that Balanar can't help but let out. Without thinking, you climb up onto his lap and plant a searing kiss onto his mouth. You don't care about the teeth, not anymore; they cut and scrape against your tongue, but you care more about the heat of the moment.

Balanar is the same way, it seems. His tongue forcibly slides into your mouth, then into your throat — it's far longer than your own. It's long and sinuous, and it's all you can do to stop yourself from cumming right then and there at the sensation and the feeling of utter dominance. You feel Balanar's thick shaft, slick with saliva and precum, pressing and rubbing against your hole.

There's a moment of hesitation, and then you decide you don't care about the pain. You want Balanar to have his night.

Abruptly — before you have the time to let yourself think about it — you slide down along his cock. You bite back the sharp stab of pain that follows almost immediately; as slick with makeshift lube as the entire thing is, it's still thick enough to hurt. And that's with the practice you get with all the toys you keep in a drawer. It's not necessarily a size you're not used to or can't take, it's just... something that will take you a moment to get used to.

Considering the growl that Balanar let out as soon as you slid down on his cock, you're not sure you'll be given that time. Two thick, powerful hands grab on to your waist; you can feel sharp talons digging into your comparatively fragile skin. It's with considerable effort that Balanar slows himself down; you can feel the Night Stalker's muscles trembling with effort, his breathing erratic, as he forces himself not to simply thrust into you like you're little more than his toy.

You're grateful for that, at least. You're not sure you'd survive if Balanar fucked you as hard as he clearly wanted to.

You start to move. It's still a little uncomfortable, but you've adjusted enough that you're not screaming with pain with every slight movement of your ass; from there, it's only a short path until you start feeling that pleasure you're so familiar with. Balanar's talons are still gripping tightly onto your sides, gently encouraging you. You're pleasantly surprised, in fact, at how gentle the Night Stalker is trying to be. You wonder if it's because you're the only person to offer this to him.

Then you decide you don't care, because having that thick, throbbing cock buried inside of you is finally starting to feel good.

You can feel every pulse of blood through his cock, can feel every time his hips jerk upwards in anticipation or pleasure. You almost think you can feel the precum spurting out of his cock every time he groans. The two of you settle into a rhythm of sorts, with you slowly starting to ride him, bouncing up and down on his shaft... and Balanar gently assisting you with his strength. You can't help but watch the way his muscles flex as he guides you along his length.

"Ffuuuck..." Balanar curses, and you know he's close. You are, too — you've already thrown your head back in pleasure, and you're starting to move as eagerly as you know the Night Stalker wants you to.

You can feel every inch of the monstrous shaft, and you want more. It's no wonder you're moving as fast as gravity will allow, burying Balanar's cock as deep inside yourself as you can before moving back up; every slam of his cock rubs against your prostate, making your own shaft jerk and scatter pre all over the monster's chest. You make a mental note to lick it back up later.

For now? You wrap a hand around your own shaft, jerking frantically as you force yourself further back on Balanar's cock and grind it as deep within yourself as you can. You hear the monster groan loudly, the groan turning quickly into a loud, dominating snarl; you feel a warmth flood your belly, as the monster finally cums, filling you with his seed. It's not a moment later that you explode, streaks of white painting the Night Stalker's stomach.

For a moment, the room is filled with nothing but breathless panting.

Then slowly, you pull yourself off. Balanar's shaft is still half-hard, but it flops out of your ass easily enough — a flood of monstrous seed follows, pouring down your thighs and pulling onto the floor. You grin a bit at that, leaning in to lick some of your own cum off the monster's chest. Balanar simply looks down at you, contemplative.

"You know," you say, your tone slightly seductive. "You could come back here every night..."

"Hah." Balanar snorts, but you hear a bit of affection in his voice that wasn't there before. "...I'll think about it."