This is my current project. It rambles some and I fear that not all of it is cannon, so I am definitely looking for constructive criticism. Also, throw your ideas at me because soon I will be caught up with all of the ones I currently have in my own uncreative head. Based on the PC game AvP2, which I played too much as a child. Expect lots of language, some fluff, a little humor, and plenty of gore. Thanks for reading!

Sincerely, Spot

"Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Goddammit." Teague panted and cursed as she scrambled down the narrow shaft, keeping her words soft and her movements muffled. She couldn't help but swear with the impact of her left arm on the metal, though. It hurt like a son of a bitch each time she brought it down. Using her own shoulder as a battering ram to knock the vent off of the wall may not have been the best idea, but she had been in too much of a hurry to stop and think. The gunfire down the hall had seen to that, as she huddled unarmed in a little service alcove.

She didn't know where she was going; she just needed to be out of Ward E. In the murky, dusty light of the ventilation shaft, so small that she couldn't crawl but had to squirm on her belly, Teague heard the drone of a fan ahead and the shouted orders to capture or kill behind, and she knew she was screwed. She reached the end of the shaft and saw that it continued to her left, right into the chopping blades of the fan. A low, desperate groan escaped her lips and she looked down through the mesh that covered the grate under her elbows. She couldn't see much, just fluorescent light and a metal room, but it was quiet and that was good enough for Teague.

She scrunched as much of her petite little body onto the cover as she could and began to push and stomp. The tin gave way under the soft slippers she wore and Teague fell through abruptly, squawking in alarm and grabbing for the edge of the vent as she plunged past. Unfortunately, only Teague's left hand managed to catch the metal rim and when her arm snapped tight, her wounded shoulder exploded with pain. She screamed as she fell gracelessly to the ground and landed on her side. For a moment she sat with her bare ass on the cold steel floor and her right hand holding her left elbow like a vice. When the pain ebbed enough for Teague to open her eyes and loosen her clenched jaw some, she saw that she had dropped into a small, spare lab, peaceful with its quietly humming computers. There was only one door, electronic and undoubtedly locked, and the dominant feature in the room was a pressurized holding tank, like a big clear coffin. It stood upright against one wall, with sensors and hoses anchoring it to a nearby computer bank. Inside was a man so hideous that Teague had to take a moment to stare, despite her dire situation. He may have been an experiment, but she suspected her was an alien. Not one of the indigenous creatures, the ones she had come to know well, but an alien none the less. God, what a fucked up face. He watched her with beady yellow eyes sunk into yellow skin, dotted with green.

After a moment that was longer than she had to spare, Teague wrenched her eyes away from the fascinatingly ugly humanoid and began to claw at the door. There was no lock in the room; it had to be operated from outside. It wouldn't take the soldiers long to find her. She needed out. Teague's fingers dug into the crack between the doors and she pulled as hard as she could, straining her arms til her left shoulder felt like it would pop out, but she knew it was a futile effort. Behind her, a dull, muffled clacking sound drew her attention back to the alien in the room behind her. He was staring at her hard and rattling the restraints that held him tight to the back of the containment tank. She had to do something, or she was going to be dead soon. Or worse - back in Ward E. Teague glanced at the electronic scanner locking the tank and reached up to grip the laboratory pass key clipped to the hem of her torn paper hospital gown. She had taken it from the body of a strangled scientist and it opened many locks. Under the intense gaze of those terrible, intelligent eyes, Teague took a deep breath and stepped toward the lock on the thing's prison. She had made a decision.