This is just a short one-shot I wrote after seeing the movie last night.

Owen Grady had never considered himself as a very deep person. He preferred taking action instead of pondering some meaningless philosophical questions. If someone would have asked him to define who he was with one word, he could have answered without hesitation. He was a soldier. That was what he had been as long as he could remember. When he had been a child, his father had taken him hunting, but Owen had always preferred the thrill of the chase over the actual kill.

He had never taken killing lightly, no matter what creature he had been hunting. No, he respected life, as strange as that sounded coming from a man like him. He had never caused any creature unnecessary suffering. Some people justified cruelty towards animals by saying that they didn't have a soul, they were just animals.

Owen had never been a religious man, he didn't know anything about a soul, but what he did know was that unlike humans, animals were neither good nor evil; they simply followed their basic instincts. They slept, fed and bred; there was nothing more to it. Even the most deadly animals didn't kill for sport. Humans did and they were supposed to be the creatures with the soul. Owen had looked into the eyes of some of the most dangerous creatures ever lived on Earth and he had never seen malevolence or viciousness. No, animals didn't posses such qualities, only humans did.

That was what he had thought his whole life, but the creature staring at him begged to differ. The look in its eyes was nothing but malicious, it couldn't wait to kill him and its handlers and it was planning to enjoy every moment. Owen couldn't deny that at first he had felt sympathy for the creature, it hadn't asked to be created and kept here, but the isolation solely hadn't made this creature what it was, a deeply deranged crime against nature.

If he wouldn't have known better, he would have said that it looked… triumphant. This creature was highly intelligent; it had planned this and patiently waited for its opportunity. What kind of animal could do that? What had these idiots created? The term playing God sounded about right. After all, it was God who had created the Devil. Didn't that make the creators of this thing the real monsters? The moment he looked into the creature's eyes only lasted a second, but it felt like forever. Fortunately Owen Grady was a true soldier; he controlled himself in any situation.

"Run!" he commanded the horrified handlers.

The creature let out a roar, it sounded almost mocking. If it could have laughed, it most definitely would have. It was about to claim its vengeance.