In Plain Sight

"Why aren't there any new reports? They're paid to be WATCHING it!"

"Sir...apparently, it....got tired of being watched."

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Peace at last.

Back in the Habitat, the appointed guards writhed on the ground in abject misery, seeking any source of stimulation to relieve their sensory-deprivation hell. The creature's cultural code prevented it from killing any living being—but the overwhelming pressure of constant observation finally drove it into panicked despair. Unable to remove itself from the presence of their prying senses, it unsheathed razorlike talons...and, man by man, neatly carved the biological sources of each sensory input away.