Hello! And welcome to my second story in the Aliens franchise! This time, it will be sort of a Lex-and-Scar scenario, but with an Alien instead of a Predator. I hope you all like this twist of the plot…if there was an original one... and yes, it will have some deus ex machina instances.

He is alone…

He is scared…

He is not of this world…

He is not of his native world…

The young Xenomorph male had spent almost two decades of his life locked up in some sort of room in a building, with weird electronic eyes mounted on the ceiling constantly watching him, as well as the strange, bipedal creatures, apparently called "humans," dressed in all dark blue with weird devices and equipment around their waists, that he had always known of throughout his life.

Never did the young alien do anything to them…yet they appear to see it as a necessity to abuse him and do whatever they would like to him. Sometimes, they would take him out of the room very roughly in some tight shackles that hurt his wrists and ankles, forcing him to move with a metal stick that sparked and buzzed at the end, then they restrain him to a platform with belts and other shackles, and then they would do things to him.

It was different every time; such as sticking several long, sharp needles inside of his head, cutting away layers of his skin (being extremely careful not to penetrate blood vessels, as the alien himself knew what his blood could do), bombarding him with different types of radiation, touching white-hot or subzero-degree metal to his skin (which burned and blistered regardless of which one), and so on as they appeared to be recording his bodily reactions, via video capture and writing notes. These ordeals were always extremely painful, and even after putting up with it nearly all his life, it was still next to impossible to cope with the torture.

As of right now, though, the alien lay on the cold, hard, acid-proof floor of his cell, curled up into a ball. It was very cold in the cell, and trying to stay warm enough to sleep was difficult for him. Not to mention, it was even harder to sleep with all the trauma he had to endure on each day. Whenever he has the remote chance to ever be able to get any sleep, he has nothing but nightmares and visions of being tortured for eternity, and he would remain awake out of his fear of falling into such terrible dreams. The insomnia has had quite a lot of lasting effects both physically and mentally.

The depressed Xenomorph would only stand whenever he attempted to peer through the acid-proof piece of two-inch-thick security glass on one side of his cell, trying to sense anything at all, as the hallways were usually empty. Occasionally, he has been able to catch the heartbeat, brainwaves, and vibrations of the voices of two or more of these humans (some called "scientists" and others called "guards") interacting in a way that was not hostile at all, and rather tranquil, the alien could observe.

This was something that the young alien simply could not comprehend, and led him to an even greater sense of injustice and despair. Sulking nearly all day and night, every day, he wondered why these human creatures were so mean to him. They would often get even more angry than before and beat him with fairly large, electrified clubs whenever he did something wrong, such as causing the temperature-measuring device to melt whenever it is inserted into his mouth, trying to resist by breaking free of restraints, damaging their devices by moving too much, or attempting to attack them, or anything that they apparently thought was wrong. All of this has caused too much fear for him to try and do anything out of "ordinary."

The alien had never seen another one of his kind, making him believe that he was all alone in the cruel, unfair world…yet there was one thing that this did not particularly affect; his instincts. Every part of his anatomy was just as he felt was natural, except for one thing. On his groin were some strange appendages, consisting of a long, fleshy shaft that appeared to be a passage for urination, and beneath it were two firm, round organs encased in a layer of wrinkled, loose, somewhat stretchy skin.

Even though he was born and spent his life with male sex organs, it still did not feel right to him, nor did it ever make sense. Out of his instincts, he was aware that his species reproduced through facehuggers, spawned by a Queen, that would attach to a living organism and implant embryos into the host, which would gestate within the major arteries to the point of them bursting out (usually killing the host instantly). So why he had sexual organs, the alien could not comprehend.

It didn't make a difference anyways. The young Xenomorph knew that tomorrow, he would endure the same suffering as he has before. Oh, how he wishes it could end…if something good could just happen…he wants to live a happier life…

Every night, the young Xenomorph made the same wishes, over and over.

I just want to get out of this place… he thought, sniffling. …and I just want one real friend. Is friendship too much to ask for…?

I figured I would just try to get a feel just for how this alien is feeling at the moment…and I must say, I do pity him, greatly. Hopefully, though, as the story progresses, things will get better for him! That's it for the prologue! Stay in tune for the start of the actual story! Keep holding on…