Suffer.
That is my name. Well, not my Xenomorph name retrieved of by my Queen, but the names my captors, the humans, named me by. Suffer.
Now, when I mean captors, I do not mean that my name had come out of the "Program" that the leader of Weyland-Yutani puts "special" Xenomorphs in. I was never a captive, I was never a prisoner. My captors as in the captors of my species, in which those few sisters I do have that have been caught, like the living Praetorian legend, Number 6.
Number 6 is also a name given to by the humans, but not her Xenomorph name. At this time, I am also a Praetorian, but this is my story I will soon explain to you and I will not be someone of that rank until the very end...
My species, the Xenomorph, another name given to us by the humans, has been thriving in these parts for a long time… My Queen and the other two leaders of the horde, Warrior Dome legend Nethead and Number 6, who have both the favor of the Matriarch for their hard journeys, insist we cleanse the rest of the colony before we move to a more suitable location.
The humans will never get any one of these Xenomorphs again.
And I will die to make sure these intentions remain intact.
Now, for as long as humans have been studying our kind and poking at our sides with sticks and mimicking our feral growls through mirrors, they believe we are thoughtless creatures with the intelligence of a small primate, or as the humans indicate it to, a monkey, or as a realistic creature would indicate it to, a Macaca Fascicularis.
Let me tell you one thing.
We do not have the mere intelligence of a monkey, who through other animals may seem smart, but to reality seem ridiculously stupid. Aliens, like the ones in the games/movies/books that humans like to read/play/watch, are never stupid. And let me tell you Xenomorphs aren't going to be the first.
Now, about a train of thought… We do not have thoughts processed without our Queen. We cannot think like a human, but let me tell you we do think more than humans. That doesn't make much sense, does it? Well, I never said, or, hissed, that it would.
In fact, I am not hissing every word I speak right now. This is me with my train of thought. These are the words I think, for Xenomorphs can speak, but through the brains, and we cannot speak normal "human conversations", but I will tell you more about that later, if you want me to. This is just a common introduction to the story you will be told, and I intend to keep it that way…
Now back to that train of thought. How odd is it that a Xenomorph cannot process thoughts, but is able to think all of this before you? Does that not make a simpleton human tilt his head at such an oddity?
My apologies, humans don't tilt their heads.
Anyway, for the next part of this… Our heads. Humans believe we have transparent heads in which eyes peek out of through the slender, silky surface… Let me tell you this… Our heads are opaque and we cannot see. We use our sense of smell and feel and actual sixth sense to detect things before us. Not visually, but we can "see" what we "look" at.
Oh yes. Our genders is the next thing. We mate sexually, only Drones mate with the Queen, but for the rest of us we pick a mate like every other species. We're not both genders, we're not one gender, whatever. We have males and females. What people seem not to understand is that only males can be Drones and Warriors. Females get the highest ranks with Praetorian and Queen. Only females are Praetorians, not males or whatever. This is so only females can take the Queen's place if she dies too early, and if a Royal Egg isn't hatched yet. And also it can't hatch too early either, because the egg remains in stasis until the Queen dies.
Humans. Or, Homo Sapiens.
Very stupid.
But I have lived a very long time, although Xenomorphs in the wild can only live up to about thirty years before death, if we don't die from "gun" fire first. This story may be long, so settle in.
But, as long as I have ever lived, I have slaughtered humans mercilessly, because Xenomorphs do not have remorse or pity, and not a one can kill me. Their "guns" and "grenades" are no match for my durability, and they will never catch me and my siblings ever again.
Thus, they nicknamed me Suffer. And let me tell you, the name stuck.
Although my horde does not approve of our human names, the Drones still call us that anyway so it doesn't matter. The fussiest one about it is the Queen, but her highest ranking warriors, Nethead and Number 6, have all been nicknamed by the human species.
So she can't really do anything but deal with it. And I have to agree, I would hate the Queen constantly snapping at me about my human name. I kind of like mine, warns off other Xenomorphs that get decide to get trippy with me, who knows.
Despite the hardships of life at the Xenomorph society, we do have fun in a natural sort of way. We can occasionally play a game of chase, scaring humans, and a cute little Xenomorph tag if you will.
Now, there is one more thing I must acknowledge you with before we can begin my story starting as a small brood erupting from my host's chest cavity, inside the embryo that was implanted there by my transporter, the Face-hugger, who had been successfully wrapped around the human's head and left there before he was done with his duty and died. However, no Xenomorph feels any pity for the Face-huggers once doing their jobs. That was how life intended them to be. Don't spend the way feeling sorry.
Anyway, it is that I have been through too much in these days, and too many close ones have been lost. That last part is what the last thing stupid humans have always said we don't have – not just thoughts, but feelings.
We feel in a greater way than humans, with more nerve-endings due to out need of survival since we cannot see through our opaque dome-heads. We do not mate for life, but sometimes we mate several times with the same Xenomorph because some small feelings can occupy us there. And some do mate for life, going against what we're supposed to do, due to these feelings. We greatly hate a human that harms our own kind, and we love our siblings just as much.
You pathetic organism, humans. Think nothing but yourself has feelings. Even I know the Yautja society has feelings, although even the bigger, stronger, female Predators do not hunt. I sense things far beyond your compare, and am part of a union much stronger than your puny brains can hold within knowledge.
Now, I think that that is enough for introduction. You got to know me, although I do not know you, nor do I wish to. It is far beyond my own comparison of wanting to know the knowledge of a…
Homo Sapien…
Absorbed. Sucking. Draining. Beating. Pulsing.
I pushed abundantly against the flesh straining to hold me against freedom. I few sticky strands of tissue enclosed me in the chest cavity that I had been borne into. But I needed air and light, and fast.
The repulsive scream of a human sounded from above me, and I thought I could almost feel the air in the area. Up… Up… instinct warned me. Up… Up…
I shoved disdainfully against the hard skin. Another retched screech filled up my "ears" and I screeched right back at him. I gave another reek as I gave another thrust up, and the horrible screams that filled me almost scared me, but again it was short-lasting, because it is impossible for Xenomorphs to feel fear. Caution, perhaps, but not fear.
Soon I had broken free from my bonds to the world, and as soon as I had touched air I gave a horrible cry, and a white mist of breath clouded around my cylinder-shaped head. My tiny teeth, metallic and white, gleamed in the late-night sky, although underneath a roof I very much was.
I wormed the rest of my tail free from around the ribcage bone it had been latched to. During my brief period inside of the host's body, I had snuggled much too close to a lung for my liking, but it had been nice – warm, durable, fresh, meaty… Bloody.
I could hear another faint call in the distance of my home, which instinct alerted me that this was my territory, and I had a sudden instinctual urge to go towards it. But I held fast to my position on the ground. During my short existence, I had felt a growing urge for food to enter me. Instinct also alerted me that this was because Xenomorphs were a very hungry, fast-reproducing species, and that this was a feeling I would get often.
I growled faintly as I gathered my bearings – no I could not see, but I smelled around. My electrical "alien" blood, gave me an actual good feeling to things.
A trail to my left, enclosed in a dark shadowy space, which I kind of like, since my species prefers the dark anyways, and the right, leading to a place that smelled sharply of freshly-dewed grass, trees, plants, soil, a species of worm, and all that nature stuff. The rusted smell of the Refinery, and also the way that the screech I had heard previous, to the left, enticed me more than the scent of the outdoors.
I admit, writhing on the ground with your tail and tiny legs is no easy task. I was wrestling with my "eye's" angle to see where I was going. A silent humming that erupted from my field of hearing was getting louder the further I trudged down the tunnel.
After an hour of casually sliding, leaping, wriggling, worming, writhing, across the floor, I finally had two legs and two arms long enough and strong enough to support my weight. I found this task much simpler than the previous embodiment – and thus I used it much more. My tail helped support my weight from tipping, and walking on my legs I soon learned fast. And I knew that was my last time of floor-writhing, because I knew in about 24 hours, my fullest height would be achieved, whether I be a 6-foot alien or a 7-foot monster.
The Hive – I soon realized that was what it was called – was getting closer, and soon enough the screeches of eating or fighting Aliens was soon loud to the point of making me flinch.
I halted outside the closed Refinery door, locked and bolted. Luckily, there was a hole in the wall too small for a real Xenomorph, but big enough for me. I crawled through it and broke through the other side.
A chorus of Xenomorphs was inside the room, battling for a piece of human meat previously cleaved from the occasionally curved tail of an Alien.
I stepped back, alarmed, but I felt at home. I slunk from my hole in the wall and approached the Xenomorphs, the hungry feeling started to come back over me as I smelt the fresh limb of meat. The fleshy meat-hungry feeling back in the corridor had waned me from harsh to slight, but now I could feel the claws of hungry pain stabbing me from the inside as though I had a chestburster myself.
I slid forward to the stench of rotting flesh, but a Xenomorph turned to me and snapped his jaws, and soon enough opened them to reveal his inner maw, flexing and curling and dashing in and out of his mouth. What humans always mistake as a tongue. It is not a tongue.
It is what we eat out of, our inner jaw. In the back of our outer jaw, there is no throat, just that inner jaw. And when we bite with our inner jaw, in the back of that there is a throat… that's what we eat out of. How would you like it if I called your throat your tongue… is any of this making sense to you?
Anyway, a Xenomorph beside him turned on him as well. "Leave her alone," she hissed, tail lashing side-to-side. "She's just a worm-ling."
The male, taller, Alien just utter a feral growl. "As long as she stay away from the meaty parts. I caught this, you know."
The older female Xenomorph retorted, "I get it. But she's just chestbursted, obviously. Give her some entrails."
Although he did not seem entirely pleased that he had to spare any bits of the kill that was already getting tangled with by several other Xenomorphs, the gruff-hissing male Alien tossed at me what little scrappy things he could give me. A heart, a liver, a few chewed parts of muscle. Nothing all that great.
I silently crawled away with what I could carry, but I was still too small to carry a lot of it. I kept tripping and landing fast-first in the heart, soon leaving it inedible since it was now possibly scarfed with bacteria.
"Let me help you with that," hissed a Xenomorph over me. I could see that elder, female Xenomorph that had snipped at the protective other approach past me and lift up whatever was left intact. "Where do you want it?" she asked as she looked around the interior of the Refinery.
I "looked" at the female Alien. Since I had not yet gathered the ability to telepathically talk between my squad mates, I just flicked my tail at the corner of the corridors interior, whose hull glistened in the late-evening moonlight, the walls thatched with our gooey, drippy, substance that we spread on our hive walls. A drippy material perfectly matched for keeping humans to be face-hugged and to give way to more of our kind. I remember my host. Still an hour's walk for a tiny chestburster.
The Alien dropped the meat at the corner I had indicated, and without another word dispersed back into the crowd that she stayed huddled with.
I eat what I could manage, and even ate more so I could stay fuller. I knew the nutrients would suffice me for the meantime, but as most chestbursters were, we are very hungry and picky and do not know hunger very well, so we always want more. But I had an urge not to listen to my stomach and decide to listen to my head because how come I had the slightest feeling that getting back to the aggressive male Alien would not mean more mealtime.
Just a thought.
A next idea was a sleep place – there were so many of my kind here that I could not possible wonder where to start with dosing off. Maybe there was a hole in the wall or a ventilation system that spared a crack or crevice to slumber in.
I crept along the edge of the wall and braced, leaping off on my already-growing legs to a further hole. It was deep, and I knew that once I woke up I would be fully-grown, so I stayed on the smart side and decided not to go in a chestburster-sized hole or my life would be over before I knew it.
I placed my two fore-claws on some holds in the crack, and I flipped backwards and entered tail-first.
I curled around and around and soon placed my head down. I whipped my tail protectively around my vulnerable body, and since I knew that that was going to be enough to be defend myself, and I had my own kind here to look after me, I placed my head against the cold Refinery wall's surface and tried to slip off. But it was not all that cold to me, as I say again, because we adapted to that kind of thing. And my silky-smooth dome head was cold by itself anyway.
It took a few minutes, but sleep's embrace did come.
I lifted me head to find out that I was a lot larger than previously, and that I had been lucky to pick such a massive hole. How long had I been in my slumber, impossible to know, despite my senses of the time of day beyond the Refinery's brisk walls.
The Xenomorphs in the middle had subsided to the areas around, keeping close to themselves and talking mostly with their minds, however some of them growled something and some of they screamed at one another. You see, it is not so that we can just speak through our minds – our vocabulary just expands that way.
I could locate a few other Xenomorphs that also crept into the corridors around the clearing as well, not seeing them but noting their presence carefully – two females, the more common side of our species, and a male. The male and one of the females were gracefully climbing out of their holes, but the other female was wounded and needed rest. I could hear her uneven heartbeat and the quiet rasping of her breaths.
The food that had once been placed in the center chamber was devoured, and only the male gruff Xenomorph I had confronted earlier was perched beside the bloody, rotten remains. His tail flicked occasionally, mostly addressing the others to leave him alone.
After a moment of dense thoughts, I decided that finally I would come out of the hole that had comforted me briefly, my prehensile tail brushed smoothly against the cold, metal wall, scratching scathingly across the rusted surface.
As a few of my other siblings dispatched from their resting grounds, letting their inner jaws flash occasionally as they stretched their serrated maws in a restless yawn, they slunk down to the center of the room as if to wait for something. I loped down and paused, standing with my stuck-together claws clinking against the metal floor in a puzzled state of confusion. What were they doing?
Growling, scratching, and hissing, a silent voice crept up to me, and I was held in a lock of stated fear, as if my mind was being invaded. It was not like my brothers/sisters were reading my mind, nor was I letting them, for we have that power, and it wasn't like I was reading one of theirs. This was a deadly, feral, scratching sound.
Move to the colonial housing grounds and harvest the remaining opposition.
I watched in growing interest as the Xenomorphs that had slithered to the front and center of the room let out reeking screeches as they belted towards the door. The Hive was on the move. And I had no idea way. I was just sitting there with my head tilted in confusion.
"Aren't you going to come too? You don't look wounded."
I spun around as a male, Warrior Ridged Xenomorph approached me, his tail flagging in a sign indicating lack of aggression. I was still wary, and stood by ground.
"Well? Are you mute?"
I growled at him, and shook my head. I tried speech for the first time – what did I sound like? "I don't even know what we're doing."
The male seemed confused, then gave me a quick look up-and-down. "You must be newer and don't know the Matriarch yet. I'm surprised – most worm-lings sense her presence in these chambers and don't have to be told to listen or follow her orders."
I flattened my tail in muffled embarrassment. "No, I didn't sense her," I growled, losing patience.
The male ruffed up his tail, and when I got a better look at it I could see it was curled. I stared at him, puzzled, before he began again. "Well, when you hear her, obey. Only the wounded stay behind. And obviously, in just a few hours you'll be a full-grown Xenomorph, so you're allowed to come along with us."
I snorted and decided to change the subject. "What's up with your tail?" I asked, approached him to get a better look.
"Oh this?" He lifted up his tail so I could examine the blade. "I got pelted with a "shotgun" and fell down a cliff. I landed on my tail and it curled around. I can still use it to, just not in the same way you others can. Kind of looks like a barb, doesn't it? It's where I get my name."
I glared at him. "Your name is Broken Tail?"
"No, no, no," he insisted, shaking his head quickly. "My name's Barb. I've lived long enough for the humans to recognize me and give me a name."
"Oh." Big idiot.
Barb just grinned at me, or so it kind of sensed like that. "Don't worry, it's not the first time. So, you can stand by me in the rush. And stay close – you already have fighting moves and killing blows in your instincts, unless you don't have that either, like you didn't sense the Queen first thing, so you should be okay for the most part, but they're basic and don't get offensive, especially to "shotguns"."
I didn't extremely appreciate his comment on the Queen, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. "All right," I growled, "show me the way."
Immediately, he started to streak towards the opening as did many other left-behind Xenomorphs. It meant we were in the back of the rush attack, but it didn't really matter because I was told specifically not to even be offensive, and I was smart enough to know the Aliens in the front were the first to get shot.
He was so fast on his legs I couldn't stand it at first, but I realized I could move that fast, too. I hardly knew we had such speed in our long but extremely thin legs with our fused fore-fingers and double thumbs. I was racing along the hallways, but when I passed Barb he blinked at me, surprised.
"Hey! You're pretty fast, worm-ling!"
I grinned – and couldn't help it. At least I was getting to know someone around here. I wasn't totally alone out there. I was fast, and I knew someone, a pretty cool Xenomorph to, since he was named by the humans, and I liked his compliment to me, too. Made me feel like somebody, and not the only left-out Alien here.
I raced across the metal ground, pelting so fast a few others looked at me in shock. I felt fast, and I could feel the glares of a couple of other female Xenomorphs as I bested their running speed.
Barb tried his limbs hard to catch up with me, and I had to slow down or else I'd get tried. He abundantly pawed at my tail with his forepaw. "Wait up! You're getting into the middle line, fall back!"
I paused my speeding pace so he could slide in next to me. His curled tail flicked to-and-fro. "You're fast – like, really fast. But you need to know where you place is. Come on, let's wait for the others to slide by us before we begin again. Once instinct tells you all your moves, and you have enough skill to survive out there, then you can fight in the front. I just don't want another worm-ling to die."
I paused. "Another one?"
He nodded. "Yes," he growled, looking up at the rusted ceiling of the Refinery. "A worm-ling tried frontlines and got blasted by a "smart gun." I don't want that same thing to happen to you. So just stay back here and be patient. Life is a lot better than the brief thrill of battle."
Gradually, the other Xenomorphs zipped by us. As we ran a bit further, the old scent of muddy soil and rain filled my scents. Various forms of flowers, wildlife, human camps, rusted metal parts, birds, dewy grass, and tree bark were all around. And then I noticed for the first time I was going to be able to see the outdoor skies.
I had no idea with what sunlight felt like. Or moonlight, but I could tell that the sun was up and shining. Would it feel like I was absorbing the heat? Our skin was very absorbent. But Xenomorphs preferred the complete darkness, and we won't like the heat very much. Flamethrowers are our worst opponents. Marines holding those are our worst fears, like the time Ellen Ripley torched our Face-hugger eggs.
But I could "see" the metal grate that led to the outdoors, and immediately the wave of about 100 Xenomorphs poured out into the open. All the Xenomorphs would spread out so it only looked like about four or five of us, but there were various different camps about 10 Xenomorphs needed to go to each.
I let Barb led me to a team of about 8 other Xenomorphs to the left. The heavy metal, clinking Marine housing chamber was already getting raided by a crew of others to our right, and I could hear a Marine voice shout out.
"Xenomorph activity entering the compound! Keep your eyes open!"
A few Alien screams sounded from inside the area as they attacked. A few moments later I could hear the yowls of the humans.
The area me and Barb were heading was led to underneath a tunnel complete with arches. The hard, compact soil squished and smeared underneath my deadly claws, but with just a quick flick I scraped it off.
"Hey!" spat another Xenomorph behind me, her voice growling in anger. "Don't tread on me."
"Sorry," I started to say, before I realized an extremely loud ricocheting was catapulting over the area. Bullet shots met the crumbled stones behind us, and we all evaded as the rocks falling. One of the later Aliens screeched in surprise as the heavy boulder toppled over them and splattered molecular acid blood all over the place. The only thing poking out was his tail, severed by the fall.
It was my first time watching one of our own die.
A rippling sensation occurred in my heart, and I lashed my tail out and perched on top a rock. I lifted up my head to reveal my metallic but sharp teeth. A durable scream echoed out of my mouth, and I snapped my inner jaw out, flexing its tiny teeth in the sunlight.
"Now it's mad, Rookie," chortled one of the Marines. "But good shot for the most part. Now just blow the damn things up."
As I leapt off the rock fast enough for the grenade expelled from the "Pulse Rifle" exploded into it, Barb telepathically alerted us, "All right. Sneak your way around the compound and don't attack in the full daylight. Use your sneakiness to your advantage and lure your prey. Kill them all, and then harvest."
I had no idea what that was, but I agreed. I departed from the group and made my way down the watery slope of the hill. The brownish grass squished beneath me, but this time I decided not to flick it back. No one else was with me, but I wasn't about to ruin my cover.
The compact ground beneath me smelled fierce of carrion and other parts and oils the Marines must have dug into the ground. Pipes, drills, explosives, mines, that sort of thing. But not that it was very effective because I could smell mines a few feet away and I was more than careful enough to avoid it. There was a similar smell like our Hive's home, the differing scent of rotten decay and filth, but that was much stronger than this. Besides, I liked that scent better.
A few huddled Marines were organizing their war plan. I could hear them from here.
"All of our other base camps are being ripped to pieces. Omega One will be here with evacuation soon. We don't stand a chance. The damn Hive must've wanted to really kick our ass well and make sure we stay out for good."
Another one piped in, "Yes, but stay alert. Fight until Evac arrives. Then leave. Gather what supplies you can, then let's get the heck out of here!"
As the Marines split up, I dodged to a narrow outcropping. I remember what Barbs had told me, and that was to use my stealth. Instinct told me that we were stealthy creatures, and that our attacks were limited strictly to melee. Then I saw my target.
It was "Rookie", the Marine that had shot off the boulder and had crunched my sibling. His gun was shaky, and he wobbled nervously as he made his way towards his supply bundle for any extra ammunition or stims that could be effective when he was wounded. He searched frantically, but I let out the faintest scream, then ducked behind cover.
Rookie looked up fast – and scanned the area with his disgusting eyes. He was scared, but Xenomorphs showed no mercy or remorse. "Huh?" he asked, as he got up with his "Pulse Rifle" aimed at the area I had screeched. "I'll go check it out." He made his way forward, his eyes looking for any Xenomorphs. He had his hand held up in a clench, and his eyes were nervously darting. I could smell his reeking odor – his scent betrayed his nature, as it did all things. He stopped about right where I had yelled out.
I dropped to the ground behind him and grabbed him, lifting up my tail to pierce through his armor and into his torso. The thin, sharp blade was thrust forward and I belted my tail right through his chest. He tried to yell, but I wrapped by fore-claws around his face and held him there. He writhed and tried to warn the others, but he was held fast. I used my other free hand to grab out to his shoulder and to pull him further back through the blade. He was soon coughing up and splattering red drops of blood all over me.
As soon as he had died, I disposed his remains on the ground beside me.
Noticing the blood all over the place, a few other Marines looked into the clearing. Suddenly, a voice growled, "Rookie's down!"
I cracked open the ventilation systems with my tail blade and loped into it. It rattled under my claws, and I was quite heavy-sounding and loud in it, but it would have to do. If I was found by the Marines that spotted Rookie's blood, I'd be shredded in only a matter of moments. I smelled those "guns" – and they smelt dangerous.
The sound of rattling guns fired after me, and my tail blade caught on one of the open tears in the crumbling metal. My teeth and lips curled back in a hiss, and I swiped at the lodged debris, freedom soon enveloping my tail and then the action of swift running soon appeared again.
There were other sounds in the ventilation systems as well, including a brisk-sounding Xenomorph in distress as she was getting fired at. Bullets rippled along her flank and she screeched into the growing day. Soon after, she fell over, and molecular acid blood leaked from her flesh and blocked the exit, since the acid made a big hole in the vents I could not cross. I grew soon irritated at this, since that meant both ways out were being blocked – one by the humans with their guns pointed at the doors, and one a gargantuan hole that was too large to leap across.
I braced my claws along the thinner gaps in the rusted metal. I could hear a few shots outside, and then the scream of another Xenomorph. They were getting more of my kin.
Determination set straight and I flattened myself against the floor and leapt, right over the steaming pool of acid I knew would not affect me, and right over the hole. In my leap, I had spun around to cling to the ceiling of the vent instead, so I could creep right over the gap.
Once over I dropped back down and made on my way. More bullets rippled along the side as a Marine frantically shot everywhere to stop the approaching enemy, but the Alien had already gripped the human with its fused-together fingers, and was lifting open its outer jaw for a snap with the inner one. Inadvertently, the Marine tipped sideways, tumbling the two down a hill. I paused to smell what had happened to them. The Marine had gotten away because the Xenomorph had been cut through the stomach with a drill poking out of the ground. The man slipped to his legs rejoin the battle.
I hissed in frustration, my tail lashing to and fro. That was another of my kind dead, and I could hear the Queen's frantic tone in my head.
Fall back! Harvest what you can then regroup at starting wave!
I was starting to feel lost, but I let my instinct guide me. I could not see, no, but thus that did not stop me as I trampled through the futile ground. The rust occasionally snared up at me, and I whisked it away with impatience.
Impatience.
Something I realized I was starting to have – a bad attitude. I snorted and let the irritated thoughts die down with the sound of the humans' "guns" as they whisked off the last of us. Then I realized that that must mean was a little while behind. I glared over my shoulders, my trot not casual.
As I squeezed into a nearby corridor, I lashed out at the metal walls to rip it – if I could break out of here I could regroup before they suspected me dead.
But as I cracked my tail against the metal, realization flooded over as the blade just bounced harmlessly on it. I tried a few more times to see if it would dent, and then I could work from there with my head, teeth, claws, and tail, but there was none. I was lost in here.
Panic took over as I scratched scathingly along the sides for anything, a nook for the claw, a pierce for the tail, a wounded spot for my inner jaw. But the metal surface was clear of anything except for fuzzy mold, bacteria that smelled dreadful, and some rust speckles here and there.
The feral growl that emitted from my chest told me to stop trying to break through because this human camp site did not last forever. I gutted up what I could and soon enough was whisking my way through the undergrowth again. Well, metal undergrowth if you'll go that far. My senses reached out for any corridor that offered the smell of bullets, wet dewy leaves, or soil, or even a little sunshine, but not came to me.
A hiss formed there again, in my chest, but struggling kept it inside. If I was close to the Marines, the last thing I was going to need was to be caught. I kept low to the floor, but I knew that no sensible human would be sticking his face curiously into the ventilation system.
The area grew darker, but I liked dark, so I hindered to those spots.
I searched on and on, but there was nothing out there. I signed and continued to make my way on then. If I kept my mind to it, I would be able to escape, would I not? I was not going in circles, but with my senses getting sharper at every thought, the way paved to the exit was soon getting clearer.
And once the scent of soil, dirt, and fresh air wafted over me, I bolted towards the reunion point.
Keep going… Keep going… Keep going… Don't stop!
The ledges pickled across the clearing were not taking sides – they gave me more cover than not, but they also proved as good obstacles as my snagged my fore-claws on them and occasionally fell flat on my face. I shook off any moment of pain and continued on, adrenaline flooding through me, my heart pumping molecular acid blood through my veins, telling me to keep going on.
As I skirted the corner, a saw a Marine pointing his gun right at me.
I stopped and let out a hiss, and once I reached my senses past him, I could tell that Barb and the surviving siblings we shared were staring at me in a lock of pain and fear and shock. The Marine reached his hand for a magazine clip, and discarded the old one that no longer served him. He shakily reached for the extra, and stuffed it in, then pulled back on that little stick I had no idea was for full reload.
One of the Xenomorphs had decided they should try to help out, but the Marine used his motion tracker to detect the sneaking Alien. Bullets riddled the cylinder head and soon the Xenomorph died, sending shards of acid and disdainful cries into the night. He looked up and saw the others. They immediately ducked behind the rocks to the entrance of the Refinery, not daring to make the same mistake this Xenomorph had just attempted.
Standing my ground, I looked for a possible way out – a narrow cleft where I could be invisible to all shots, or a good spot to hide behind, just for the moment. But all I had was a good stretch of ground to be shot in. Nice.
The Marine focused on me again, shaky. Suddenly I realized I had no choice but to leap at him. I braced for the pounce, and obviously Barb noticed this for he screeched at me, "No!" But it was already too late, I had launched myself off the ground with a caterwaul, and had landed right on the Marine. Bullets rippled along the air, but I swerved right by them, dodging them and landing before the Marine. I swiped at his hand and his gun flew out, disarming him.
Stepping back a few feet, the Marine stared at me with fear, for he knew he would die. I reached for his head with my deadly claws and I soon started wrenching his miserable head savagely off his shoulders. The ripping flesh thrilled me – Barb mentioned the thrill of battle – and I tossed the scream-ridden head to the side. I approached it, looking down at it with a lashing tail, and I stepped on it, crushing it with my weight.
"How could you do that?" asked Barb, leaping towards me, his tail streaming behind him. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"
I could see his face and hear his voice in my mind – he was overridden with awe.
"It wasn't anything, I just attacked him." I shrugged and slipped past him to make my way to where the other Xenomorphs had been hiding. They glared disdainfully at the spot where their suicidal sibling had been felled, and they curled their saliva-dripping lips at the human whose head had been pelted to smithereens.
We all started the way back, some dripping from wounds, others okay like me. But I felt like a coward hiding in the vents as my siblings had risked their lives to kill.
The trip back stank – the complaints of other Xenomorphs filled my "ears" as they babbled on and on. There were at least 40 of us left remaining of the 100 that had gone to the battle, and it made me a bit tense, my tail curling in a new hatred.
Once we returned, the wounded Xenomorphs that had stayed behind looked up at our dripping-with-blood, slim frames, and I could hear murmurs from around us. I knew that they could tell that the Marines had gotten away with this and had also escaped, winning the fight and taking their supplies with them as well. The gruff Xenomorph that had given me entrails last night glared at us darkly, knowing he now had no food.
Then I realized that these wounded Xenomorphs had been depending on us, to get them food, to feed them, to take care of them. When one of us gets wounded, that is another that cannot help take care of us. We need each other.
But that did not stop the glares. Barb padded up to me and hissing right back at them, his tail curling off and around his shoulder. His penetrating glare, although he very much lacked eyes, stared at all of them, challenging them for a fight. They stared back, but did not move. They flexed their claws and snapped their inner jaws.
I glared back at them as well – I knew it wasn't nice, but we tried our hardest. And if they wanted to go out there and fight all the time, they could go and try. I realized I was mad at these ungrateful Xenomorphs and I hadn't even been on more than two fights. I fumbled around my paws for a moment, my claws gathering up the strength they had lost from climbing in vents instead of fighting.
The Xenomorphs that had lived subsided to the walls around the place, climbing in for sleep and rest. But I didn't want to go sleep, I was hungry. I had only been feed entrails in my life before, and that was hours ago!
I scratched along a wall for some food, but everything that any Xenomorph had ever brought in had been eaten. I could tell; this was one big, hungry Hive.
"What is going on here?"
It was definitely an authority's tone, speaking out above the rest. A tone that oozed with impatience, a tone that sparkled with different meanings at once. A tone so deadly it could defend against the sharpest claws. A tone so fierce one could have mistaken it for our enemy the Rogue Alien.
I turned my head to see who had spoken. She was a slim Xenomorph, her frame large, much larger than any I had ever seen in my brief existence. She was also beautiful as well, but she bore once mark that could determine her above the rest, even if her Praetorian crown and massive size didn't – the number 6 planted right on her forehead, explaining a worm-hood of captivity.
Praetorian legend, Number 6.
Squealing immediately sounded through the room, as Xenomorphs ducked for cover inside the Refinery Walls. I was stunned – why were they so afraid of her? A few male Xenomorphs paused to look at her, then they dashed away to refrain from getting caught. Barb, I, and a few others, at least 20+, stayed within eye sight of the frighteningly large, menacing Alien.
A serrated maw departed to reveal white breath that clung in the air like clouds. Her tail lashed from side to side, and she stood up on her hind legs a lot like Praetorian usually did. Claws that brought death hung loose by her side, but her inner jaw clicked in and out. A sign of brutal impatience from some a monster that had brought waves of panic over humans constantly.
This was a Xenomorph no one messed with. If you were to mess with someone of this authority, this crazily smart, dangerous Alien, you would get shredded. A part of me did fear her, another awed her, another respected her, and another was jealous of her.
"Is no one there to answer me? Pity, I expected more of a Xenomorph Hive. Or did the Yautja cut out all your inner jaws?"
No response. Impatience flooded her thoughts, I could tell as she paced towards the closest Xenomorph and snatched her neck. The female Alien scrambled back, but the grip of Number 6 was much too tight. The grip of claws around her throat was strong enough for blood to start leaking in a sizzling mess along her windpipe and all over the floor, tail rigid with fear.
But again, not fear, but caution.
"Answer me!" roared Number 6 as she pinned the fearful Xenomorph against the ground, swiping her in sizzling blood. The Alien cried out in real pain, writhing against the floor in a swooshing movement. Others just stared.
Number 6 used her delicate yet deathly sharp claws to decapitate the female Xenomorph. The banana-shaped head rolled along the ground for a moment, but Number 6 stopped the movement by putting her paw on it. The horrified screech of the female Xenomorph was the last expression that she had had, thus it was there, implanted right on her berserk face.
The cry of a mourning male wailed over the area. The female's mate, most likely. The smug grin that Number 6 had gotten spread over her face.
"Oh? You loved her, didn't you?" snarled the Praetorian coldly, her gaze impassive, as well as no emotion hidden deep in her luxuriously smooth voice. "Well maybe you should have said something!"
Silence. Before finally, I took a deep breath and stepped forward.
"We lost the fight." Dead silent.
The only response was a taunting, "Oh? And who're you exactly? I don't remember seeing you in my Horde last fight."
"I… don't have a name yet. I am an 8-hour-old worm-ling. I helped out with the fight. I… I wasn't very helpful though," I stated simply.
"Wasn't helpful?" growled Barb. "Of course you were! You should have seen the way that she killed the Marine trapping us! She was-"
Number 6's voice snarled out, "Silence! I did not give you permission to speak, Ridged Head. Let the worm-ling talk for herself." She turned to face me, and it was like if she had eyes they would be narrowed. "So you're so helpful, aren't you? Killed one Marine and suddenly you're the Hive's savior?"
I stiffened, a low growl rising in my throat. "It was just a kill," I snarled, not able to keep the sneering threat out of my voice. "I only killed like two-"
Wham!
The claws of a deadly, towering Praetorian stood threateningly over me, tail lashing side to side. "Watch how you speak, worm-ling, and you may just live a little longer." She let go, and I still crouched on the ground, my head throbbing from pain.
It hurt like nothing had ever hurt before. It was so deadly I thought I might die. I let out a wail, not a wormy wail, but a wail showing I would suffer through it. I got to my paws and limped back to where Barb crouched beside me, where he had also been struck by the Praetorian's massive claws. Instead on his face, however, drips of acid, sizzling blood poured down in streaks.
I felt a moment of fear for him – apparently from what instinct told me no one objected the word of Number 6 – and worried for his life. Number 6 could easily kill him and the Queen would not complain in the least bit. As long as the loyalties were still fierce, and the Xenomorphs did nothing wrong, she could slaughter whoever she wanted to. She really didn't even care.
The massive Alien stood over me for a moment. "So you're the great one, aren't you?" she teased, shifting from side to side. "You are just such a natural at this, are you not? So great, that even I must bow down to your extreme skill?"
A silence crept over the area, and I stood my ground, careful not to growl this time around. "O-of course not," I stammered, lowering my head to show the much more authorized female that she was in command, not me.
She sniffed and simply turned her away from me and growled, her tail lashing out at whoever was close enough to her that she may be able to hit. "Good," she spat, still not looking towards my way. "It's about time you Warriors showed me a little bit of respect. You know what I did this for horde, don't you? You know I risked my life constantly and on end so I can make sure my species survives?"
Silence.
No one would face her.
I crouched down besides Barb and smelled out his wounds. Not deep, but probably pretty painful. "You okay?" I asked him, grating my claws along the rusted metal.
"Yeah," he choked out, lashing out with his tail. "She's always like that. No one faces her because she's been in such a bad attitude lately. I don't know what it's about – she never used to act like this. Nethead's not so bad, he knows his place. You'll get used to not talking back to her, but don't especially not in front of a crowd like this one – you or her will be making a fool of themselves."
I sniffed. "She sounds… too… full of herself."
Barb waggled his claws in alarm. "She used to be grateful for the respect she got. But now she just kills anyone that thinks she may be doing harm."
I reached forward and run a claw carefully along his face. "Sorry I did that to you," I sheered, ducking my head.
The larger Xenomorph shook his head. His claws ran in nervous arcs across the Refinery's weathered-down floor. I could tell that he was making sure no more problems were caused, and that I should just keep my mouth, well mind, shut. But he simply said, "It wasn't your fault. I jumped up to protect you. Number 6 often scratches us."
Tilting my head, I asked, "So why is she always grumpy, again?"
Looking up, Barb decided to test his wobbly claws to figure out if they were still usable. After a few test runs without response, he diverted his gaze to me and wrapped his tail in an arc behind him. "Like I said – no one knows. One day she just started getting really nasty. We all thought it may be temporary, but it stayed."
"And how long has it been like that?" I questioned, getting comfortable on the very uncomfortable flooring of the metal building.
Barb flicked his long tail that was spiked at the very end, then he resumed the arcing position with another shifting of his claws, as if determining that his claws were still awake even after his previous check. "A couple of months, almost a year. No one likes it when Number 6 comes to check in on the Hive, her and Nethead usually stay beside the Queen. But when she does, she stays down here for a few days before Nethead comes to pick her up. Nethead is a lot more understanding than she is, and he knows a lot more too. But she is, besides the Queen, the smartest of us all."
I asked, "You don't think captivity may cause her behavior?"
"No, I don't," said Barb. "I think she simply had something bad happen. I hope one day she gets back to normal. She wasn't so arrogant and so full of herself. You know, why don't we go hunt at the back of the Refinery to see if any evacuated humans made camp there."
"They flew away in Evac, they won't be there."
Barb shook his head. "You don't get it. Humans think we're stupid – and they circle around the campsite. They return after a few days. We can just take the loft straight to the back of the Refinery and be there. We didn't come back with any food, really, and most of our humans that we destroyed have been harvested, the few we did kill. And everyone here will complain if we don't have a snack."
I signed and got to my paws. "I guess. Show me the loft."
Immediately, Barb got to his shaky pass and started to go to the Overpass overlooking the entire clearing. This was the first time I had ever seen it up close, not that I had ever noticed it or anything.
It was dark up there, but Aliens liked the dark so it wasn't so bad. I searched and smelled, but there was no sense, no detection, no anything. Barb had been wrong this time and the humans had decided to leave full-fledged. But even when I told him that I didn't sense anything, he didn't reply and just kept trooping, his tail swinging gallantly behind him.
We paused at the edge of the Refinery – and again I saw the open space. It had been less than thirty minutes ago I had last seen it.
It smelt exactly like it had last time – dirt, dewy leaves, debris, and carrion. "There's nothing here," I growled, scraping leaves under my claws with a dull growing irritation. "Let's just go now."
"Wait," Barb spat, and I winced at his tone. Was I nose blind or something? I didn't smell anything.
"If you found something, I don't smell it." I turned to look at him, my tail lashing out at nearby shrubs and plants. "And is this place barren of wildlife? Is human our only prey or something?"
Barb turned to look at me, then lashed out at my snout. I wobbled backwards, alarmed. He had never tried to hit me before, but I knew I had not even known this Xenomorph for a day. I couldn't even try to understand if I knew him all that well. But still, what I have already known of this nice Alien was he didn't try to hit people. I guess I was offending him. Maybe my nose was just lacking of any sense.
"They're right over the hilltop," he confirmed with a dip of his head. "I mean, they do really think we're stupid or something." He flicked his tail at the bleeding gash on my muzzle, and I was trying really hard not to get angry. "Sorry," he added, ducking his head. "I just needed concentration and you were blowing it."
I tried desperately not to give a sarcastic "sorr-ee." But instead, I just gave him a quick glare. "It is fine," I covered up instead. "Why don't we head off now? I mean, we can grab a few others and we can hunt them more effectively that way. Or are you just afraid of losing any more Xenomorphs?"
Barb nodded slowly. "Exactly what I was thinking. If we can bring back something, and maybe even something for Number 6, we should be treated more nicely."
"More appropriately," I piped in.
He snorted.
We made our way to an outcropping speckled with rocks, grass, and cover, as well as a marshy wad of fern to hide ourselves in. I nosed through a few nettles and settled down, awaiting for Barb to give me an order. I knew that I had to listen to him because he was older than I was, and until the time I had chestbursted last night, I would still even be considered a worm-ling.
The camp site was visibly seen from where we were standing. The raw stench of human and musty, un-used buildings was now clear in my throat, in fact so deep and so intense that it burned, almost feeling like it had left scores in my windpipe.
As I struggled off for the burning feeling, Barb mentioned me carefully, "You okay? You look like you just swallowed an acid pool."
I growled at him, although it was just a muffled, pained growl. The sloshy feeling of getting burned alive coursed through me more when I spoke, so as quickly and as legibly as I could, I spat, "This place stinks. It's burning me from the inside out. Can we just move in there quickly so I can't suffer through all this?"
He looked at me deep with understanding. "Sure," he agreed. "Follow me."
Immediately, he bounded his way down the slope and to the edge of the outcropping. It was wobbly underfoot, and I had to clutch a resting spot as to make sure I didn't fall over from pain. At the edge of the outcropping, we used our wall-crawling ability wisely by placing our fore-claws on the stony perch, and sitting at a vertical angle on the outcropping's steep drop. We slunk all the way down, before we landed in a pretty hidden pile of overgrown grass, so overgrown in fact it tickled my snout.
I jumped back and prodded it with a claw. It fell in a shushed wave, leaving behind only a dirty pile. "One question," I asked as I sat behind the falling grass as it recollected its stalk and regained is previous form. "Does Number 6 approve of us going out like this?"
Barb snorted. "Why wouldn't she? She doesn't get to decided where we go. That's the Matriarch's duty, to tell us where we can and can't go. She may not approve of what we're doing, but she definitely can't stop us." He made his was out from behind the stalks and started to slink narrowly across the open space. "And don't even ask me why she wouldn't approve. She doesn't think that Xenomorphs should be able to repay their horrible things they supposedly did to her."
Stopping, I paused, baffled. "I didn't do anything to her!"
Using his fore-claws, Barb deliberately pushed me down. "Get down!" he hissed. After staring wildly around for any signs of trouble, he sat back up again and added, "You snapped at her. That's what she 'thinks' you did."
I growled under my breath. Number 6 was the snappiest one of us I had ever met. I mean really, she was a real pain. I just got to know her and she was still treating me like I had just chestbursted. Oh wait, I just did.
The campsite's horrid scent got worse the further we dug in. Once we reached the walls of the site, we searched for a Marine outside, or even a scientist trying to get some machinery to start working again, but the place was barren and cold. The only people I could smell was the musky, faint odor of the people inside the buildings. I whisked my tail and looked around. The sunlight beat down hard on us as we stopped outside a pretty empty building. I looked at him.
"There?" I questioned with a note of curiosity peeking my voice.
Barb used his petite paws to shuffle at the earth before him. "Yup," he chimed. "I'll take the ventilation underground; you take the ventilation in the roof and walls. Take different targets."
Great. Vents.
I nodded and departed from him, using my speed, which he had earlier complimented, to my advantage to the rooftop. I glared behind me momentarily and saw him crack open the vent with his tail and slip inside. It could not be that hard, I fretted. I felt around for a cracked, damaged, or even fully-repaired vent, and found one.
It had a tree branch lingering dangerously over it. The branch had crumpled and smashed into the vent. It left a part of the metal charred and broken, and I used my tail to excavate the debris blocking my access.
After the rest of the foliage had been cleared, I tested the cold vent with a fore-claw.
It seemed decent. And I sure as freak didn't want to be found worming out of this one. I held my breath reluctantly and slipped in, my head and shoulders dispersing over the grated metal before my rump and hindquarters wiggled in last. The vent creaked under my constantly-growing weight, and I felt chunky in this vent, much more than I had in the primary base's.
Dragging my tail through, I started to lumber through, nosing things that poked in roughly out of my way, or breaking unmovable things with my tail or fore-claws. I found this navigation far simpler, however, and things we're all that bad. I could actually tell where which way was, and where each direction would take me.
I was finally in control.
Weaving around a branch, I paused at the vent overlooking the room. I scanned the ones bordering the crackled tile floor, but apparently Barb hadn't gotten through yet. It had taken me a mere five minutes to realize my direction.
There were five humans in the room, three scientists and two Marines guarding them. The more aggressive-looking Marine jotted one of the scientists in the shoulder. "Are you done yet?" he growled, his voice gravelly and harsh. "We need to return to our base camp in three days."
The scientist sneered at him. "I'm working my hardest!" he spat.
"Work harder then."
I could hear banging in the corner of the room. I turned my head and could see Barb cracking his tail against the metal, unhinging the bolts that backed him out of the room. I noticed that the vent I was standing over had bolts as well, but much more effectively and silently I slipped my tail beneath the bolts and skewered them out of place, having to use a bit of twist work and challenging screws to knock it out. Finally, they were all gone.
Wrapping my two fore-claws over the barred grate keeping me out, I lifted out the piece remaining and set it aside. I slipped my tail out and waggled it so that Barb could see me.
I could feel his glare on me before I sensed it. I lifted my tail back in and peered out to see what he was doing. Once he saw he had notified my attention, he spun his head around and dipped his head at the nearest scientist, the only female scientist in the room. So that was the one he wanted.
I nodded and looked at the Marines. Two in one tail sling, and maybe I could even get the other scientists along with Barb's help.
He stared at me for a moment, and if he had eyes I figured they would be wide with shock. But we needed more than just a simple one human for our Hive, so I figured maybe we should achieve a far more effective burden on us.
I picked out the plumpest one – certainly the Marine that was aggressive. He sported a stocky weight, and he was rather thick. But besides those plump flaws he was well-muscled and hefty-looking. He carried a smart gun, and held it at his side as though it was the most precious thing he could have possibly gotten his hands onto. I knew he would be my first target since that thing could track me without him having even to aim at me.
I slid out into the open and crept behind him. I could hear a beeping – motion trackers.
I wheedled right out into the opening, knowing those things didn't lie. I used my tail and flung it out desperately at the man with a smart gun. It whipped him right across the face, leaving a bloody smear across the tile floor as his face planted against the cold surface. He was dead in the first try.
The scientists looked up in their horror, but I was too fast. I used my claws and tore horribly at the next Marine's face. It took a little bit longer, but soon he was too sprawled on the ground, writing in his short-lived agony.
The scientists were backed up against the wall, pressed against it huddled. The turned their heads in fear as they saw the next Xenomorph slip out of the vent in the wall and approach to. He got up on his hind legs and stalked forward, and let out a fearsome hiss. His inner jaw snapped in and out. His claws dangled in a way that would grab any scientist that moved. His tail whipped around dangerously.
He lunged to his target – the female scientist. She tried to let out a retched human scream, but he clamped his other claws around her face. He lifted her off the ground, as he stood at seven feet and her only five, and the scientist's legs dangled at least a foot. I watched as Barb's tail blade, barbed, as his name indicated, neared her throat. This was to be the first time I was him use his tail. But I grabbed the other two scientists to make sure they didn't decide to run for it.
The barbed part of Barb's tail blade did something very interesting, inside of piercing, he simply moved it jagged and it clipped in her flesh for a moment, before he pulled it back out. She was dead in moments.
The other scientists squabbled pathetic human speech. I tossed one and Barb and let him take care of it. I peered at the Marine and decided to finish it off with a head bite.
I pulled it closer to me and opened my outer jaw wide. It stretched nearly twice its size, since we have jaws like a snake's, back on Earth. My inner jaw slithered out from between the metallic, silver, gleaming row of teeth. The human winced in his fear of me. It made me feel powerful, standing there besides Barb. Finally, the inner jaw snapped out and landed right flat on the scientist's forehead, right on his eye. It implanted a hole in him, and his eye was jacked up, now inside his head.
He fell back with a silent thump. I turned to see what Barb was doing.
He was simply scarfing the freak out of the scientist's chest and torso, before he chugged him close and speared his tail blade through him, although it was just a quick stab, before he let go and let the human tumble to the floor in a useless heap.
"Huh." I chortled for a moment, flicking my tail. "That was a pretty good hunt."
Smiling at me, for what I could sense, Barb growled back, "Sure was. Told you there'd be something here. Now, let's return this back to the Hive before a few humans decides they want to show up."
We gathered the bodies, him taking three and I two, and started to make our way back. We scrambled out through the front door this time by snapping the button with our sharp teeth, and soon got to the cliff on the outcropping. Expertly, the two of us hoisted up the human bodies as well, and started the dash back to the Refinery.
A silent drizzle had started once we neared the overhang and steel doors of the metal building, and as soon as we got there it began to pour. It was the first time I had seen rain, and it felt cold against my silky smooth skin. "Can we drink it?" I had asked Barb.
"Yeah," he'd replied. "But I don't think it's very fresh, really."
I hardly knew food and water for what brief experience I had had of that little thing, so I just kept my mouth shut and nodded. We soon got to the protection of the overhang, and we used the loft to return back to our camp site. As soon as we can strolling back in with those bodies over our shoulders, I can nearly hear the signs of relief of the other Xenomorphs since they now had a meal.
"And," I hissed at the body of my prey, "No entrails this time."
I had hunted these bodies, so this prey belonged to me. I was to share the other bodies with the Hive, but that was if they wanted it. I could pick out who got entrails. But I wasn't a nasty Alien, so I gave others a fair share of the meat.
Number 6's glare on me I could feel. I turned to meet her gaze, but her lip just curled.
Clamping my teeth over the leg of the thickest male Marine I had wall-tailed, I chimed, "This is for you – the whole thing. Enjoy."
Her feral growl was enough to startle me. No "thank yous" protruded from her thoughts or mouth as she dug in viciously to her meal, snapping at it with her inner jaw.
I returned to where Barb was sitting, crouched beside the human bodies. "And this," he yowled, "is to a good hunt!" The rest of the Aliens cheered right along with him, and everyone got their fill of the food. I had enough to stuff myself silly. All I wanted now was some rest. The sky outside was still dark because of the rain, but I knew the evening was coming and soon I would be a full-grown Xenomorph. It only took 24 hours.
I talked to a few others as they looked up at me. I had apparently been heard of as of the life I has risked of saving the Xenomorphs trapped by the Marine once we were returning from the battle. They thought I was some kind of savior, some did. Fair enough. Some thought I was just showing off. Some called me a natural.
"It was just a kill," I seemed to shrug off for the fifteenth time that day. "It wasn't anything special or anything. Barb's just trying to make it sound all heroic, but it wasn't that great. Trust me, I have no skill. Just luck."
The Xenomorph who had talked to me like I was some kind of king stepped back a few feet. "How can you say that?" he asked. "Why would you neglect your skills?"
Making sure as to not lose my patience with this Alien, I stammered right back at him, "I'm not! I'm just saying it wasn't special. If you guys want to go around priding one kill, go right on ahead. I won't stop you. Or even try to stop you."
The Xenomorph lowered his gaze. "Sorry to upset you," he fretted.
"It's okay," I whispered, feeling as though I'd been too hard on him. "I mean; it's fine and all. But it wasn't anything special." I got back to my feet as where I had leaned closer to him comfortingly. "Just warning you."
He looked up at me and smiled.
And I smiled back.
After returning to Barb, who was sitting beside his carrion heaps, he looked up at me and flagged his tail as a sign of lacking aggression, the sign he used when he first met me. "You done talking to those chatterboxes, famous one?"
I growled at him. "Not you, too," I scoffed.
He shook his head playfully. "Nah, don't worry. I'm just teasing."
I grinned at him. What a nice friend. "Where do you sleep?" I asked, changing the subject as I sat down on the inside. "Do you use one of the holes in the sides of the walls?" I peered at the walls where a bunch of drippy holes were plastered. "I sleep in one of those," I added, simply.
"Yeah, I think most of us do," he added, a smile on his face. He waved his tail. "As to where Number 6 sleeps when she's here, I have no idea. When she comes over on these visits, it's kind of hard to tell where she goes. Blends in with the crowd I guess."
I dipped my head in response. "Huh." I glanced at the way the crouched Praetorian was flicking her tail impatiently. "I'll make sure not to tread on her bad side."
Barb snorted. "Well, don't. Now, it's best you got some sleep. I'm sure you've have a long first day out of the chest cavity. And you look tired, anyway."
I growled. "Do I?"
He nodded. "See you later, worm-ling. At least you won't have to be called that one you wake up."
I waved my tail in farewell, before making my way back to the spot I had slept the night before. He was right – as soon as I pressed my head against the cold Refinery wall, I felt the wave of wanting to sleep waft over me. I sank down more comfortably, and let sleep's tight embrace grip me once again…
Silent. Lolling. Peaceful. Home…