Ripley and I sat in front of the circular ventilation shaft, peering in to the darkness. I gripped my flamethrower tighter, clutching my only form of protection.

"Dallas..."

I looked up at Ripley, and replied.

"Y-Yeah?"

"You know... you don't have to do this. There has to be a better way - one that doesn't risk your life."

I sighed.

"Ripley... I..."

Looking down, I chose my next words.

"I'm doing this for the crew. This is our best chance. This flamethrower..."

I brandished my weapon, tilting it to the side.

"...can melt through anything. We won't get a better shot. If it leaves the ventilation systems, it'll be able to hide in the shadows, in wide, open areas. The shafts are crowded compared to the rest of the ship - I can guarantee that I'll burn that thing's head off."

Ripley sighed. She bit her lip, as if about to argue, but seemingly thought better of it, and sighed yet again. Her expression became pained, and her eyes watered ever-so-slightly.

"Oh god... just... c'mere Dallas..."

Her voice shook; she was on the verge of tears. As she said this, she leaned forward with her arms outstretched. I accepted the hug, and for a second, we simply sat there, embracing one another.

"Ripley... I promise."

I looked deep into her eyes, and for a second, she seemed to be waiting for me to continue. Suddenly, her pained, tear-stricken face turned to one of solemn understanding. She weakly smiled at me, having made amends with me.

"Dallas, burn that thing up. For me. F-For... for us."

Her eyes brimmed with tears yet again, but her smile became wider. We embraced one last time, and I turned, readied my weapon, and headed into the ventilation system.

The dim glow of my flamethrower did a poor job of lighting the ventilation system. After Ripley had closed the shaft behind me, I took out a small flashlight, and shined it around. Light reflected dully off of the gray, metal walls, and I tentatively shined it in front of me. About 20 feet ahead, the shaft veered sharply to the right, and I shivered as my light casted harsh shadows across the turn, my mind producing disturbing images of the horrors that lurked in the dark.

Shaking my head, I continued forward, towards the bend. As I neared the corner, I clutched my flamethrower, ready to burn anything that crosses my path. Reaching the turn, I took a deep breath, and swung around the corner, flamethrower ready. I sighed, seeing a thankfully empty shaft. Up ahead, I was able to make out what appeared to be a ladder, and a yellow light cast upon it from above.

Reaching the ladder, I looked around the area I was now in. The room was shaped like an octagon, and continued in four other directions. One, opposite to me. Another, to my right. Again, to my left. Lastly... down. The ladder ran vertically, and shining my light down it's length, I noticed a grey substance, coating the bottom. Grabbing the ladder, I immediately pulled away as my hand touched something wet, more or so slimy. My lip curled up in disgust as the vile substance seemed to stick to my hand, and I hurriedly attempted to shake it off. I was forced to wipe it on a nearby wall, glad to be rid of the offending material.

Snorting, I touched my headset, establishing contact with Ripley.

"Hey, Ripley? Are you there?"

A noise similar to clacking plastic sounded in my ear, and I winced at the volume.

"Yeah, Dallas, I'm here. Where are you right now?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but Ripley stopped me.

"Wait..."

I heard the familiar sound of Ripley smacking a keyboard, and I waited impatiently.

"Alright, I see you. There's a ladder right in front of you, right? Go down to the bottom."

Following her instruction, I climbed down the ladder, gritting my teeth and squinting as I touched the slimy substance, and slid down to the bottom. The grey material that covered the bottom squelched underfoot, and my disgust continued.

Attempting to keep my tone neutral, I spoke again into my headset.

"Alright Ripley, what's next?"

Waiting a few seconds for a reply, I glanced around in the vent I was now in. To my right, the vent continued, with the same grey substance coating it. To my left, it stopped abruptly, with a fan whirring behind the grated wall.

"Well, it looks like you need to continue through the vent. It stops to your left, correct?"

I made a sound of affirmation.

"Go to your right until I tell you to stop."

Creeping further into the vent, the dark material sucked at my boots, similar to mud. A horrid smell, similar to a wet, moldy carpet, continued to sound at every step.

"Stop."

I stopped, looking around. The humidity had increased, causing a bead of sweat to run down the side of my face. I reached up, wiped it off, and tapped my headset, speaking lowly.

"Alright Ripley, what do I do now?"

Ripley sighed, seemingly contemplating her next decision. I imagined her biting her lip; looking stressed.

"Well, Dallas you... you wait here, until it gets within range."

I clutched my weapon tighter, and breathed a reply.

"What?!"

I immediately closed my mouth, and looked around, fearful. I had spoke louder than intended.

"We can track it using the pressure sensors in the vents. I didn't know we had those."

I grinned weakly, remembering the original reason I had installed them.

"D-Dallas, don't move. It's about 100 feet away from you, and it's closing."

Readying my flamethrower, I leaned against the wall, not caring for the repulsive substance that coated my surroundings. I whipped my head around, listening intently. My breathing turned heavy.

"Ripley, what direction? Where is it?"

My tone was low; urgent. Another bead of sweat ran down my face, and it wasn't from the humidity of the environment.

"It's to your right... wait... no, it's... above you? Watch both directions, I-I can't understand a damn thing about this interface!"

I swung my head to the sides, heart pounding in my chest. My breathing was frantic, and my hands shook, sweat covering my palms. I heard Lambert's voice sound through my headset, her voice high and choked.

"Oh god, Dallas... it's coming right towards you..."

She sounded on the verge of tears, and she sniffed immediately upon saying this. Suddenly, I heard a light skittering to my right, and I swung my head around.

My breath caught in my chest.

It was right in front of me.

The world stopped around me. The creature opened it's mouth, and I remembered my crew. I remembered Kane, and the agonizing way he had died. I remembered Brett, and his screams of terror. My fear turned to rage. I grit my teeth, and let loose an angry yell. Pulling the trigger, I blasted it with flames. My grip was tense, and it attempted to move away. I continued to yell at it, feeling nothing but anger in my being.

"Don't you run, you motherfucker!"

I moved forward, continuing my assault on the thrashing figure in front of me. It's tail swung around, striking me in the throat. My grip on the trigger remained, and the inferno continued. I felt blood run down my neck, and I could not breathe. My senses turned to liquid, and I became detached, not truly able to feel. I heard Ripley and Lambert screaming my name, but I could not respond. I never took my eyes off of the burnt corpse of the Alien, even as I collapsed, and the world turned black.