The Devourer

It began, as most beings do, as a microscopic dot; smaller than could be seen by the naked eye. It, because gender was irrelevant at its present stage; or perhaps at any stage; it was neither he nor she; just it. Unlike other beings, though, it was not the result of the luring and capture of a sperm by a waiting egg.

Despite its miniscule size, it still had memories of the time before.

At one time, it had been massive; a mammoth sphere whose heart pulsed with radiation that warmed the space around it. Over a time that was too long even for it to measure, though, the heat from its inner core had cooled, and it had begun to fold in upon itself.

The weight of its outer self had crushed in upon its center until all that was left was a microscopic sphere; inky black; dark against its dark surroundings.

It began to expand; to grow; and, as it grew, the hunger began.

As the newborn will do, it fed upon whatever came within its grasp; and, as it grew, its grasp extended. The memories of before grew faint. Its only imperative was to satisfy the growing hunger; the need to ingest more as it grew. With increased size, the hunger increased. Vaguely, it realized, somewhere deep within the stygian core, that some of what it ate had once been sibling, or maybe even sire. But, there was no guilt at this fratricide, or matricide, or patricide. Such thoughts would require a concept of filial connection; and it had never, even when it was a massive sphere, considered a relationship with any of its neighbors. That they were from the same family was merely accepted as a fact; but, not a source of emotional attachment.

It moved; awareness of this came from a sensing of changes in spatial positioning relative to other distant forms. But, where it moved, or how, was unknown; nor, in fact, did it care. It moved because it moved; because it had always moved; always in the same way, and in the same direction; and always returning to the same point eventually. Sometimes crossing the path of others, sometimes moving parallel to them, but, never communicating; unless one considered the melodic sound made by their movements as communication - it had never considered this; never given it a thought. But, now, when those paths crossed, or came close, the others were pulled, as if answering some call, into its gaping maw; a swirling circle of the darkest hue; to become more fuel for its growth.

Before, it had no purpose; none, at least, that it could discern. It's only aim was to continue on its elliptical journey, ever circling, ever listening to the sound of music from the darkness; never knowing, or caring, from whence it came. But, now, as it grew, it sensed that it had a purpose. Its purpose was to eat and grow; and as it grew, to eat more.

Now, the music, as melodic as ever before; came from within.