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The Prey

As soon as I was out of earshot, and having little round ears on the side of my head rather than sharp, fuzzy triangles on top, I was mostly guessing that I was; I carefully placed my rifle down and sat down against a pine tree.

It was calm. Quiet. The gentle scent of pine wafted in the air as the wind gusted through, rustling the branches above me. You could hardly tell that there was a hunting posse roaming the woods looking for prey.

Thankfully, I was not the prey, yet.

Scraping the side of my cheek with my thumbnail, I found the fake mole. In terms of sensation, it felt like a real one. If the rebels had really wanted to be subtle about this, they would have attached it while I was unconscious and I wouldn't have even noticed it or honestly thought it was just a normal growth. The only thing that made it stand out was that if you felt really carefully, there was a space underneath it.

Hooking my nail under the mole, I tried to pry it off using my thumnail as leverage. It wouldn't budge. Grunting, I pried harder, but between the sting in my cheek growing in intensity and the feeling that my nail was just about to be yanked off.

Swearing, I swung my foot at a rock, sending it hurtling down a slope. I needed to get this thing off of me. There was an easy way of doing it, there had to be, but not being a spy, I was not privy to that sort of information. If I had a knife, I could…

I peered at the rifle casually laying on the ground.

No, no, no, no, no…

It was a stupid idea.

Could say it was a hunting accident.

Terrible idea.

If you aim it just right, it'll just be a flesh wound.

I threw those thoughts out of my head. It would take the mole out, but it would probably take half my face off. I knew computers, I didn't know guns.

Maybe if I found a rock that's sharp enough…

Flashing my head to the ground, I searched for something that would work, but everything I found was either too large or too small. Something gray and pointed caught my eye, causing me to freeze; not on the ground but in my peripheral vision.

Slowly turning, I found the narrow muzzle of a hunting rifle inches away from my eye.

“Caught you, human!"

Instinctively lifting my arms, I peered up from the barrel. Behind it was the young Regulian, face nearly fully on its side as he awkwardly stared down the sights, his broad nose making it difficult to aim a human-designed gun. Despite the imminent danger, all I could think was that the Duke had enough foresight to not pick guns with semi-automatic slides or pulls that would slam into long-muzzled alien faces when fired.

“Please. Don't shoot." I tried to keep my voice calm.

“Oh!" He exclaimed, lowering the gun with alarming speed, “I was just kidding around!"

His lips peeled, revealing a set of fangs just as impressing and dangerous as Litho's. I remained frozen.

“This is a smile, right?" He asked, not distorting his toothy grin the whole while, “This is what humans do when they're happy, right?"

“Uh..."

His 'smile' lessened and he sniffed the air, “You smell scared. I'm sorry, am I doing this wrong?"

“You could say that."

“Shit! I thought I read everything over!" He dropped the gun and pulled out a ComPad from the pockets of his trousers and swiped through it with his claw, “Let's see...Royal Guide to the Duchy of North America: most humans here are not used to a monarchy, avoid making mention of your title if applicable; check! This region was one of the last to surrender during the annexation, avoid mentioning the bombardment or any aspects of the war; check! Humans here love a friendly smile and showing your teeth is considered to be a friendly gesture..."

“Stop!" I said, causing him to look at me with innocent, confused eyes, “I don't know who wrote this guide..."

“Prince Litho."

I paused, not exactly sure how to process that. Part of me was horrified at the reminder while the other was somehow comforted, even when I got a flashback of when Litho's heavy body was atop mine, because instead of hearing him ordering me to submit to him, I heard him, in his voice no less, telling me about where to get the best pizza in the Duchy.

It's a way of coping with it.

“I don't think you should take his word on this..."

“You're right!" He said, grinning wildly and giving a quick swipe on the pad, “He said here that humans are highly independent and don't take kindly to being forced into sex, but he still..."

“Let's not go there!" I held my hands out to stop him, “Look, I can tell you a thing or two about the Duchy and Earth, being a human and all," I held out my hand, “My name's Nate."

“Oh, I know this one!" He snatched my hand in his paw, crushing it and furiously shaking it, “My name's Prince Shalth. I think I'm the 125th in line to the throne!"

“Please..." I gasped out, clenching my teeth in pain, “Let go..."

He released his grip and I clutched at my aching hand.

“First of all," I said, “We do smile, like you said, but we have animals, four-legged ones, here on Earth that look like you..."

“Lions and Tigers?"

“Yes! And uh, when they smile, we know they don't mean well, so when we see you smile with your teeth like that, well, it makes us think we're going to be dinner."

“We don't eat humans."

“Second of all," I pointed to the rifle, which was still laying on the ground, “Don't point that thing at anything you don't want to shoot. It's dangerous."

“Really?" His brown eyes darted to the side.

“Yes, if anyone points one at you, treat them as if they're going to shoot."

Shalth suddenly leaped forward to my side, facing to my left and holding his arms out-stretched; his long, tufted tail slapping me sharply in the face as he did this.

“To shoot me is to shoot the Emperor!"

“Stand down, Prince," came a distant voice. Almost Sirian in accent, but with a hissing, distorted tone that was alien to any language I'd heard, “We're not here for you."

Carefully, I peered to the side of the hulking, brown-furred Regulian and saw the source of this voice. From behind a tree was a slim, pitch-black muzzle peering down the sights of a rifle. Slinking out, he revealed himself to be one of Aleesh's bodyguards and he kept his aim steady even as he slowly crept towards us.

“We're here for the human."

Showing the briefest glimpse of royal authority, the Prince defiantly asked, “Why?"

“He murdered your brother," the rasping voice continued and the Sirian padded closer, “We're here to take him to the King of Earth."

“The Royal Claw is scheduled to come here tomorrow."

“The Claw!" The jackal-like Sirian growled, revealing his ivory fangs, “The Claw is too lenient. The King will take care of him, send him straight to the Emperor's clutches, after that..." he paused, twitching an ear, “I don't really care."

“He's my friend," Shalth ordered, backing up closer to me, “And you will have to shoot me to get to him."

“We shall see," he said, stepping closer, beginning to circle around. Shalth pivoted to keep himself in front of me and I shuffled along.

Grabbing the rifle, I pulled the bolt back, chambering a bullet. I began to raise my gun, but a heavy paw shoved the barrel down.

“Don't."

“He's going to..."

“Legally arrest you and take you to a higher authority," Shalth took a heavy breath and whispered, “And the other one's circling around."

My eyes widened and I glanced side to side, looking for any traces of him but finding nothing but trees.

“On the count of three, make a break for it. To your right."

“What are you..."

“One."

“Two."

“Three!"

With a mighty roar, Shalth pounced forward, slamming into the bodyguard and sending his gun tumbling to the ground. Struggling, the jackal-like alien tried grappled with the Prince, trying to break free of the much heavier Regulian's weight.

“Run!"

Fearing the other bodyguard, whom I could not smell nor see, I darted to my right, rifle in one hand and shoving branches and bushes out of the way with my other.

I looked back, expecting to stare straight into one of Aleesh's guard's eyes. If that happened...that was it. I couldn't fight them off. I might survive the trip to the King's court, but if I were shipped to Regulus Prime, I would be in the mercy of the Emperor who would no doubt be slightly peeved at the death of his son and not likely to be gentle with his judgment; that is, if the rumors about his sexual ferocity were not true and he decided not to continue where Litho left off.

And this was also assuming Aleesh didn't have some other plans for me. Truth be told, she kind of hit that golden sweet-spot when it came to aliens with her young, slim, exotic look, and honestly, if she wanted to kidnap me for sexual reasons I wouldn't really object, but for all I knew she wanted me dead for another reason or she got off to her bodyguards gang-banging tied-up human men; both of which were unacceptable to me.

Just a week before, I didn't have to consider these hypothetical situations!

I caught my foot on a branch and was sent tumbling down a slope. I rolled, bouncing and banging off rocks and roots, desperately trying to grab one with my spare hand. The world spun until I reached the end, colliding with something large and furry at the bottom.

Laying on my back gasping, I took stock. My rifle was still in my hand. I was alive. The nearest threat…

A heavy weight leaped onto my chest. Yellowed fangs filled my eyesight and I raised the rifle as much as I could, pulling the trigger immediately…

BANG!

My assailant collapsed atop me. Its canine muzzle rested atop my chest, taking a few shallow breaths before quietly expiring.

I panicked. In the heat of the moment, I thought I had shot a Lupiad. Not the Duke, this one was gray and white, but some other one, and now I was really a killer. My stomach calmed itself when I slowly began to realize a few things: this creature was significantly smaller than a Lupiad, was naked, had four legs, and smelled significantly less hygienic than the average Lupiad. It was a North American Gray Wolf.

There was no time to panic further or check to see whether it was endangered or if there was even still a wildlife government commission that cared. I had just been given a golden opportunity. I wanted a sharp object and this wolf had several of them in its mouth, plus it gave me a good reason to have a face injury.

Carefully pulling my arm out from under the dead wolf, I pinched the cheeks of his muzzle, hoping to god that he was not pretending to be dead, and lifted, revealing his fangs. The stench of raw, rotten meat hit me, causing nausea to well up in the pit of my stomach.

His teeth with yellowed and many were beginning to rot, but the long canines were sharp and strong.

Pulling my cheek close to the dead wolf's mouth, I lined up the mole on my cheek with a fang, pressing up against it. Placing my palm atop the wolf's snout, I readied myself, gritted my teeth and closed my eyes.

Please, please don't be rabid…

I pushed down.