A glitch in the matrix of biology. A worm that is not a worm. The velvet worm looks like a caterpillar made of suede, walks like a worm with legs, and hunts like a character from a sci-fi horror film. It belongs to its own phylum, Onychophora, making it as biologically different from an insect as a human is from a starfish. A creature that is its own thing. Scientists call them living fossils because they have remained virtually unchanged for half a billion years. To see what life looked like before dinosaurs, before trees, and before the first fish crawled onto land, flip over a rotten log in a New Zealand gully. The hunting mechanism is its most famous feature. Despite its soft, velvety appearance and slow, clumsy gait, it is an apex predator of the undergrowth. When it senses prey with its sensitive antennae, it shoots two high-pressure jets of sticky, white slime from oral papillae on either side of its head. This slime travels at high speed and hardens almost instantly upon contact with air, pinning the victim to the spot. The velvet worm then strolls over at its leisure, cuts a hole in the prey's armour with its razor-sharp mandibles, and injects digestive enzymes to turn the victim's insides into bug-soup which it sucks out through a straw-like mouth. Unlike insects, they breathe through tiny pores called spiracles spread across their entire body that they cannot close. They are constantly losing moisture to the air. If a velvet worm gets caught in the sun or a dry breeze, it will literally evaporate and die. The rotting log is damp. The velvet worm moves slowly, velvety and soft, antennae tasting the air. It senses a cricket. It shoots slime. The cricket is pinned. The velvet worm eats. It does not know it is a living fossil. It does not know it is an apex predator. It just wants to eat. They can live for up to seven years, spending their years navigating the dark, damp world on stubby, unsegmented legs. The velvet worm is proof.