Initiation
The large feathered creature, ancient symbol of freedom and lofty spirit, soared overhead. It circled the field and nearby forest, searching ruthlessly for its quarry. Spotting a small, furry animal below, it plummeted down, talons flexed to seize and rend its intended victim apart. For in the end it was first and foremost a predator.
Watching the human prisoners dematerialize from the darts that shrieked overhead, the young Wraith stood with his pod brothers as they sweated slightly in the slowly warming sun, waiting for their commander to join them. Today some of them would become full members of the hive. If successful, they would finally be introduced to their Queen. He had seen her at a distance, striding about the hive with her commanders, but never up close before. At the thought of finally making his first kill, a minute grin flitted across his face momentarily betraying his excitement.
The drones surrounded the human prisoners, penning them in, until the commander approached and signaled for them to be released. One human in particular attracted his attention; she looked to be about 25 years of age. Long dark hair flowed down her embroidered blue tunic to the middle of her back. She did not look athletic but he wondered if her slim frame might conceal a runner's body. This one did not totally reek of fear like so many of them did; she fought back when the drones seized her and hauled her away from the others. When they released her, she paused for a moment, looked back at the Wraith standing indifferently behind her, and then awkwardly dashed helter skelter toward the tree line across a field of wild flowers blooming in riotous disarray. He watched her until she was just a pale dot that flickered momentarily among the fully clothed hardwood trees and then vanished into the dark depths of the surrounding woods. Although other prisoners continued to be released, he marked her as his as he prepared to hunt, quickly stripping off his black leather overcoat and revealing his sleeveless tee underneath.
Imparting a warning look toward the entire group of young Wraith as if to say, "Do not dare to disgrace me with your failure", the commander nodded and the pursuit began. The young Wraith raced across the field after the female. Unlike the older hunters who tracked for sport, he had not received a tracking device or a weapon to aid him. This hunt and kill was a measure of his skills. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of her sweat lingering faintly in the morning air; he sprinted along the path she had taken across the recently trodden field until he reached the tree line. Composed of secondary growth, the trees grew together in a tight clump; various torn leaves and broken vines and branches conspicuously trumpeted her violent passage through them. Eventually the trail led to a small, shallow stream; she'd proceeded through its heart in an attempt to disguise her route and to dilute her scent. As he followed the stream, two of his closest pod brothers joined him. Their prey had instinctively combined into a single organism. Exiting the forest, the three hunters entered a more rugged, increasingly rocky terrain that ultimately developed into a complex labyrinth of canyons; a faint olfactory trail wound through sated gullies and ravines recently fed by the spring rains.
At last their prey materialized before them, trapped by a deep river that cut one canyon virtually in half. Spotting her, he zeroed in as the small group panicked and began to scatter. Their eyes seemed to lock briefly; then a living silhouette hurdled down the ridge toward her. She plunged frantically into the raging and turbulent river in front of her. Leaping in after her, he snatched at her wet, slick hair but missed. Suddenly rapids churned and bellowed around them. First they collided and then they were swept apart, capriciously tossed around by myriad water sprites. Unexpectedly she stopped struggling, dropped her arms, and let the surging undercurrent take her, as if offering herself to a kinder, more benevolent god. Diving deep beneath the roiling surface, he flailed about until he finally made contact with her tunic, digging his fingers into equal portions of clinging material and flesh. Heaving upward, he propelled them both to the surface and kicked his feet forcefully, aiming them toward the shore as the current slowly slackened. His boots sinking into the soft mud of the now shallow water, he pulled both of them up onto the grassy embankment. Listlessly, her body sprawled across the ground; he bent down as if to kiss her. Instead he exhaled forcefully down her trachea. Gagging, water spewed out her mouth onto the ground. Regaining consciousness, her eyes widen as she somberly gazed up in terror at him. He grinned wickedly back at her as his right hand plummeted down and clamped firmly to her chest. Moaning in ecstasy, he savored the sweetness of it as her life force entered his body. He barely heard the mosquito like buzz of her screams.
Once he'd finished draining her, he slung her dried up remains across his shoulders, and walked back along the river bed, grinning as he drew abreast of his two pod brothers who had also been successful. They carried the proof of their kills back with them and dumped the crumbling husks at their commander's feet. All three glowed in triumphant as they realized that they were the first three back. The commander nodded at them in appreciation of their skills and ordered a drone to pick them up in a dart to return them to the hive.
The second in command met them in the dart bay and bowed respectfully acknowledging their success. They proceeded down murky corridors, misty and slightly humid; the walls, backlit by an eerily red, glutinous material--crisscrossed with dark, spidery veins, glowed faintly and provided the only light. Led into a small windowless chamber, all three sat down to receive their tattoos, which would indicate their initial rank in the hive. After disinfecting their faces, a pattern of lines and curls was lightly etched underneath their cheekbones. Then the sensitive inking began; his eyes slowly drifted shut.
--o--O--o--
All of his pod brothers had succeeded today and the Queen walked down the line surveying them, starting with the lowest and the slowest. In spite of her diminutive size, she left no doubt in anyone's mind that she'd feed on them if they continued to perform in last place in their duties on her hive. As she reached the front of the line where he stood with his other two pod brothers, she focused upon the identical marking on all three of their cheeks and smiled.
"Ah, the three degrees, I see. You have done well," she proclaimed as she ran her index finger down along the tattoo on his cheek before she slammed her hand into his chest and began to feed.
--o--O--o--
Arising from the drug induced dream created by the tattoo ink, he looked at the other two lying next to him as he prepared to be introduced to the Queen. He rapidly flexed his feeding hand and secretly wondered if they had dreamed of meeting Her as well. Just as importantly, had they dreamed about the feeding and in particular being fed upon? Relief flooded though him in gratitude that he wasn't required to divulge his ritual vision. Putting his leather overcoat back on, he strode down the corridor, the mist curling around his legs in a welcoming embrace, and he thought about the dead girl left behind on the planet who still seemed to linger around him as ethereal as the mist encircling his feet.