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A beetle scurries across the hot soil. Each vibration from each step he takes feels stronger than the last. The air grows tense and the beetle pauses. But he marches on searching for food. A step takes it close to your burrow, this will be his last step. The lid of your den flies open and your fangs sink in through his shell.

A lost shrimp swims through the dark sea. She sees the light of the surface and swims towards it. But something is wrong, she doesn't feel like she’s moving upward, only forward. She stops to turn around, but it is too late. Your jaws snap shut.

A napping tamarin awakes to the cry of her young close by. Instinctively she runs to aid him. It hits her suddenly: her young this season are yet to be born. She freezes. You pounce from your perch on a tree.

A fish finds a wiggling worm on the bottom of his pond. Up close the worm doesn't look quite right. He decides not to bite it. He turns around. Your mouth is already shut.

A man is camping friends, far off in the woods. He hears someone call his name and awakes. He ventures from the campsite to find which of his friends has got themselves lost. He is already alone when he realizes it was in his own voice. You are already behind him.