Alien Hunts
Alien Hunts
The rain died out in the night, and left only the heavy winds crossing the jungle I slept in. The rain died out, though the winds continued their breathless whisper, shaking the trees and making my body shiver - and cling tighter to my Praetorian, and Hands. We lay in a tight circle - my tail brushing the onyx-black snout, his twining against the line of my throat. Between us, giving off heat, the pale figure lay curled, held, breathing at a whisper.
We huddled together to await the end of storm and the calm which we could hunt through. The others slept, clutched through the night and finding comfort in the other beside it - even if the two that were mine did not care for the other. I did not. I could not sleep, no matter how hard I tried. The dream of the blood and ancestors cut through me, the events, worlds, experiences of everything before. I was in a hundred worlds, and I was in a thousand places - the legacy of the Crest was in me, and I was it. I was exhilarated, and I was set to peace.
No, not peace. Contentment. I was put to a state of contentment, with the whole of the jungle surrounding me, the wet air cooling my desire to seek revenge, to take stock of the situation I had found myself in. The deep planning told me of fifty in the hive, possibly more, but they were contained, and held no reason to expand without finding a way free of the temple. Fifty against three was not pleasing to consider - but the location of life outside gave me hope for expanding my hive, to take on the usurper and her brood.
Life meant I could grow, my hive would not become stagnant. My hive which swelled, as the eggs began to form inside of my body, sapping me of strength. It would take twenty eight cycles of night and day before I would be ready to let the eggs descend, and half of that would see me forced to grow an egg pouch. It was time to wait.
That is what the dreams told me, as the world warmed, and the winds tamed themselves into something more of a steady breeze. The raise in warmth made the area hot and humid - which pleased me to no end - it was good weather for the growth of life. I stirred as did my males - both raising up, stretching, and following me as I followed the game trail. The rich scents were everywhere, my mouth watered for meat, as did my body for shelter from the open trees. I followed, creeping forward, into a place hidden by growth and vine, a place which lead into the heart of the earth. The scents were musty and old.
Time went on - hidden in the ruins - time filtered and I watched the sky, watched the season, felt the weather turn from cold rain to warm mists, and the jungle grew hotter. I felt the presence of life, and feasted upon that which came too close, as did my male, and Hands. Hands took his time to stay with me, talking to me in his babble, saying words I did not know but feeling warmth when he was near. He was not hive - but he was meaningful to me.
It was a hot afternoon, as I let myself rest in the brought of a great tree, my form wound and quiet, alone and listening to everything that occurred throughout the jungle. Overhead, the air was clear but for the soft sprinkling of rain, a warm mist more than proper drops as it happened. Humid, my chitin thrived in the conditions. Hands remained in the ruins with my Male, the warmth of that single mind a comfort to my burning thoughts.
Birds chirped and chattered, I was still enough that they had forgotten about my existence. I would have guessed at their thoughts were it not for the low whine that filled the air, and the wash of heat overhead from a large metal bird. No. It was not a bird - birds did not smell of the black blood of the planets, nor of the metals which my claws would shred. It flew past, as did six others behind it, and the whisper of power vibrated the trees, and made me grasp the branch to avoid being blown off my perch.
Trouble brewed, and I slid down, descending from my perch to approach the ruins.
"You have any idea what's wrong with Zee? She's acting quite strange. I mean, she was cooped up, but still..." Hands murmured to the Praetorian, he cleaning at the stump of his missing two fingers with his tattered shirt and flowing water. The bite had not lead to infection, and though I could feel the ache in him, he would not die from the injuries. He was stripped of his garments, and stood beneath a flow of water in the ruins - his feet crouched to brace against the flowing cool. Humans bathed quite often - or this one did. "I know, you don't talk. You didn't have the linguistics. Thanks for not eating me."
"She did. Talked to her every day I got to see her. She's beautiful. More so that she's free. I remember watching the tests, I hated it. Seeing such a majestic creature bound and caged, spread and forced to do anything but be free. I hated it. But, I had to do it." Hands enjoyed chattering. I remained in my alcove, listening to him talk while feeling the pestered annoyance of Emm. Emm did not care for Hands, but Hands had helped my survival. This was important, and loyalty would not be punished. I drew my claw over stone, the sound masked by the trickling of water. "I mean, unless... but... how?"
Best let him think that through by himself, I was in no mood for a demonstration, much less a repeat performance. It had been wonderful, and the heat still lingered - but there was a time and place for such things. Now was not it. Soon, perhaps - and such promise did much to alleviate the annoyance of Emm, my Praetorian. Males were alike.
I finished the scratch - the mark scratched onto the face of Hands, the mark I had scratched into my crest. A symbol - the mark of a queen, and what belonged to her. I drew and traced my claw across the stone - feeling the contours and twists of my riddle mark. In my alcove, behind the whispering flow of water that trickled down, into the deep ruins, I lay.
"I didn't like the tests. Getting back to that. They were brutal. She learned the commands though. It was... brutal. She had a lot of willpower - defiance, I guess you'd call it. She obeyed only after six, seven punishments each time. "Forward Pose! Strike! Leap!"
I felt the muscles twitch, my tail raise and jaws clench. His voice echoed the memories of old - and I remembered the pain - agony cold and hot, discharges of static or corporeal. They hurt. Every time, they hurt. Memories of pain filtered the dreams, long, grueling pains that made me writhe after sessions ended. But each time, I held strong. I would not break for him. I would not break to satisfy anyone, but myself.
"It was like she were almost human. It's human, to fight when you don't want something. Well, the best of us do. Most... just give up and surrender. I guess that's why she got out. Why she escaped, I think. Always scratching the floors, marking them - throwing herself against the glass, against the door. Trying to get out. I saw the videos. She fought, between rest breaks, when she thought no one was watching. I always watched her."
Voyeuristic little shit.
"Always kept watch. Didn't want her hurting herself. That's the last thing I wanted. I hated it when she managed it - she cracked her chitin on the thigh. Left that uneven mark. She destroyed one nail clawing at the wall, chipped her tail stabbing the glass. That stuff doesn't break short of relativistic impacts. Just wanted her to stop hurting herself."
He stepped out from beneath the water, having finished washing away the smell and dirt and dried blood. I dropped to the ground behind, silent, and slid through the chilly water, to breath across the back of her neck. My second jaws brushed over the curve of shoulder, and the teeth dipped in, enough to draw blood, not enough to tear through the veins and meat. He shivered.
"Always watched you, Zee. I could always feel you, at the edge of my mind. Always felt you, even after I left. I knew you wanted out. I knew... I knew you wanted to devour me." He turned his eyes up to look upon me, as I rose up behind him. My tail drew down, and wrapped his left shin, the blade scratching his foot. "I'd never deny you, Zee. You know that."
I knew. I knew he could feel me. It was in his mannerism. How he knew I would arrive, how he knew I was always there, waiting for him. It's why I knew where he was and found him. It's why I hesitated now - and drew the blade up his shin and over the naked thigh, as my second jaw hovered above his brow - over the bruise that had not quite gone away. I drug the blade up, across his thigh, over his scrotum and then dragged it over the stomach. He bled, but was not disemboweled. I liked it when he bled for me. I pushed - making him wince. He was obedient, even as I hurt him, dragging the blade down his side and left buttock.
I knew.
The hive was under attack. I watched from the treeline - felt from the shadows of the dream. The hive screamed - and it was not my hive that burned. I could hear the whispers of Hands as he watched, and I saw through his limited vision, even as I crouched beside. The great temple burned - fire hot and screams morbid. The structure was being destroyed, crushing the infestation, and making the queen inside experience the agony of each death. I could feel it too - as she called to me, pleading. Pride was nothing to the death of the entire hive.
I cared nothing for it. The great metal birds dropped death from their doors, and explosions rocked even this far out. It was hot - the wind a bitter almond. Rain did not fall, a rare day, a day without the giving waters was perfect for the death which fell. There were two of us outside - as more scrambled, fighting for their way free, only to die amidst the wash of flame and lead. Acid spilled and burned - and the queen inside howled impotent fury.
The battle raged for several hours, death was greedy, taking each offering. There would be no wounded in this fight, each strike was a casualty. Humans would not take prisoners, and the Hive would take only hosts, when it was unthreatened. The acidic blood spilled, melting flesh and bone and burning through anything not of the securing stone of the great temple. I could not smile, even if I had wanted to. Their deaths signaled there were only two of my species left.
At least, only two here.
"Zee..." Hands said, as though to speak. My blade drew across his throat - silencing him from making me want to strike him. He need not say anything - he need not give voice to what occurred. He silenced himself, his hand on where I had marked him. My discipline was far less cruel than what had been inflicted on me. It was more effective to.
I watched through his eyes, as the temple burned, and the stone was reduced to ash. They were a terrible species - but in it's own way, I would admire the destruction they could bring. It was admirable, and it made them worthy prey. I would honor their gift for death when the time came - when I was ready to expand the hive and when my eggs would hatch after being laid. It would be another fourteen days, another two cycles of sun and sky and moon before the call. I waited.
It would not be long. I would let them have their time to forget.
It was a late evening, the weather dropping in its temperature just slightly. The winds blew again, making an excellent disguise for my movements, and I crept forward, through the outskirts of the human city. This was a place perfect, filled with prey and with future hosts for my young. I slid across the paved way - the stone odd, but durable, and would leave no tracks. I crept forward, instincts keeping me to shadow, wisdom helping me avoid light. The way was long and quiet, the scent of so many a perfect guide for my quest.
Hands took the other side of the long stretch of smooth stone - keeping watch with me, and providing me with support if I should run into trouble. Hands followed my sweeping tail - he moving slow, much slower than I would - but he wouldn't be a problem in the long run. He followed me and kept low in the tatters of his clothes - which were shorn and in need of some repair. At least they covered him, even if he shivered in the chill wind.
The city housed a good thousand - perhaps more - from what I could imagine. It was certainly spread out in a wide circle that was concentric to a point. I crept through the radial roadway - this one was found amidst the jungle, fresh and strong despite the quick growth of plants that occurred through the quiet darkness. The jungle was quick to fall away into long fields, these fields leading to the houses, to the city which I spied from the tallest trees.
A home loomed into view through the dark. I hungered for what lay inside - for the meat to stir the growth of my young, but waited, better to fast and remain safe when patience would reward me with a grand cornucopia of life to feast from. I salivated, and continued on, past the home that I hungered for. Hands gripped a flange - looking longingly upon the place. The smell of burning flesh and fat, sizzling even this far out, must have made him hungry. I felt a pang for him.
He was thin. His cheeks were sunken and he did not have the stamina he had when we fled. His scent was changed, no longer as appealing. I hungered more about him - and took my time to feel him - even without touching. My walk slowed after a moment, and my thoughts turned as did my body.
He did not wish to leave. Not by choice would he leave me - not by choice would he stay, where his health would benefit and his scent would become clear. I drew in a breath, and hissed it out - he would not serve a purpose by being ill, by being too weak for even a host. As he was starving - for meat would be less than all he needed, I stared through the dark - upon him. He must have felt me, felt my thoughts, for his head shook slowly.
"Zee...?" He started, while I crept forward towards him - and the male behind felt the line of my thoughts. He approved, both out of jealousy, and for the safety of the hive. I drew forward, until my face hovered before the humans own, and silently raised my hand, to stroke the mark across his face. He winced, feeling the touch, the scratch, the way the touch slid slowly down, along the throat, over the chest. I felt him shiver before slowly bringing my tail around, the flat of the blade towards him. I turned his face away from me, and brought it down, across his temple. He let out only a startled sound, and collapsed...
His body fell and my hands grasped him, and lifted his dropped form. His eyes were distant, his body limp - this was easy to carry. Emm lagged behind me, keeping low and against the ground so to avoid being a larger target to any spotters. His paranoia was well founded, but I did not have the luxury. I crept closer, towards the home - to where prey lingered, and judged the distance when close enough. With a careful lift, I then slung Hands forward, against the door-shaped frame, and listened to it thump loudly. That would be enough to alert their attention, to let them know someone was injured out beyond their walls. I was satisfied, as I crouched low into the dark, and quietly backed away, towards the fields.
The frame opened, the portal widened, and a scream followed - surprise at what they found. Hands would survive. I slowly crept back - and away from the sound of so many. I may have starved for the freshness of meat, and certainly I wanted noting less than the primacy of the Hive by removal of all threats, but it did not feel correct to abandon him and let him starve to death in his blind loyalty. I felt a pang, and shook it off. Pain was temporary, no matter how deep it cut.
I withdrew from the edge of the light, and into the shadows, letting the humans have one of their own back. He would find safety and health, shelter where I was inadequate to provide for my trophy to keep it healthy and ready. With this bitterness, my blood rage grew, and crept through the silence and the dark - to edge towards another home - towards another hovel of wood and plastics that irritated me with its existence. I crouched, sliding across the grass with only the wind to notice my approach. It was dark, just the way I liked it.
Emm lagged behind me, as I set about to work - my claws gripped the turgid frame - and ascended up towards an open line - a place where the window was opened, enough that I could wedge my claws beneath the seal and lift - moving with a subtle silence that would startle even a shadow. My hide scraped the sharp metal - a painful itch that passed with the onrushing scent of life - of prey, of those whom would pay for my generosity, to sooth the anger. It did wonders - and the narcotic of death began to flow - with my claws scraping the pressed wood, taking me into a hall - where people slept and dreamed.
For only a little while. A door was opened, my jaws snapped open, and a heart stopped. Then another. The blood of a liver sated my craving, the flesh of another's heart made me pleased even as blood made my hide mark crimson, and the wall give a rendition of life and death with the arterial spray. Almost with glee, I crept to another chamber - blood trailing the wall as I slid my claws across and through the lacquered plastics, and crouched over the slender, sleeping frame of a young human - male, if Hands had been a proper example. My belly hungered as I bowed my head, and took a breath of his throat.
He smelled healthy. His heart beat a steady, slow thud-thud-thud in his chest, and his lungs did not have any obstruction to them. My claws stroked over his bare belly, the thin line of hair showing, as it had upon Hands when he bathed. This creature bore the same similarities - if only of slimmer demeanor. He shifted, the slender sheet pulling as he turned onto his side, and I trailed my claws along his belly and up, over chest, to the side of his face.
Much like Hands. The softness of the cheeks, the warmth of the lips as they blew a breath across my thumb - the way he shifted into my touch. Blood smeared the side of his face and body - from where I had let it drip, even as my jaws hung open above him - over the face and dripping down. He grunted, batting at his cheek and slid deeper into slumber, even as his body was exposed, subtle, beautiful, alien. Much like Hands.
I memorized his scent, even as my teeth scraped his throat, snapping, wanting to bite into the softness there. I pulled back, only barely, and drew the sheet away - to draw with me, to retain the scent, for scent told me much about my prey, from even just one source. But I pulled back from him - from the young human, he who was not a threat, and slowly crept through - finishing my work with the oncoming rise of the sun. I left before the first rays could touch the earth, and slid free, into the tall grass, to make my way away, away from here, where the stench of humanity hung. The blood trail dried, even as I crept, deep into the south, away from the sun, and towards, ever towards, the ruins of home.
As I curled into the dark recess of the ruins, with Emm curled around me, holding me to his belly and resting his head beneath my crest, I could feel the memories echo through me, the sensations of the hunt being added to the whole, that those who passed from me might remember when I faced my end. I breathed slowly, as I curled my tail with my male, and compared. He was smaller than I, as it should have been - but only just. I was still growing, still maturing into the birthright that flowed through me. We laid upon the sheet, the scent calming me. They smelled so sweet. I wondered if my young would too...