A glacial ice cover stretched for miles. The last frontier on earth was a harsh land of snow and ice. Along this piece of flatland, there was a graveyard of skeletal remains. Bones and shards of bones protruded from the snow like small flags. And beyond those bones, lay blood, darkly rich in color, soaked deep into the once pristine snow, a sign of this being fresh blood.
A barn or a structure, which heavily resembled a barn lived on the edge of the sea covered in snow and surrounded by enormous tabular icebergs. This structure had been bruised by the hands of time, the weight of endless falling snow that gathered on its roof and the wicked wind of this, the coldest place on earth. Smoke poured from a chimney.
Bouvetoya whaling station. Antarctica - 1904
The "barn"building was surrounded by two smaller buildings on a narrow street in this tiny shack of a town. Smoke rose from boiling kettle drums, a steam engine drove a small conveyor belt endlessly round. There was no sign of human life. Suddenly from nowhere, Karl, a tough, bearded, strapping whaler, appeared. He was out of breath as if something had been chasing him, the terror etched on his face. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and was freezing to death. His hands and arms resembled frozen sausages, which had been wickedly frostbitten. The veins on his arms looked like long, thin rivers, and his face is a deep rich frosted blue.
Karl started to edge down the main street, with the sense that something may be watching him. He passed a smaller shack, through the window a copy of H.G. Wells' War Of The Worlds could be seen, as it lay on a desk next to a flickering oil lamp. Hearing something, he stopped, before he looked over at the greenhouse building. He looked in horror, as he saw a bloody hand-print frozen, forever in time on a shattered window. Extremely panicked now, he ran down a side passage between two larger buildings, before he stopped. Not daring to go forward, before he slowly started to go back down the alley, until he feet tripped across a wooden sledge, and Karl fell to the ground amongst the empty dog harnesses. He sensed something under the closest building, and peered into the darkness.
A movement and then suddenly a sled dog jumped out from the gloom, as it barked fiercely. The dog was tied to a post, and seeing this, Karl hastily got up and backed up into the mess hall, and when he entered, he slammed the door shut behind him. He looked up to see, harpoons, lances and louchets, as they swung from their hooks. Exhausted, and freezing, he peered into the room. Oil lamps flickered, which threw shadows across the walls. Pans boiled on the stove, as they overflowed and spitted. A forgotten kettle steamed, as it got ready to whistle. The place was empty. Then, unexpectedly a shadow moved and an Alien tail flicked across in the dark, but Karl didn't notice. He moved deeper into the mess hall. Forty bowls and drinking jugs sat on the long empty tables prepared for a crew of forty men that were nowhere to be seen.
Karl's eyes scanned the entire room but nothing was there. Slowly he turns around to find himself, as he stared at something, before he looked up in horror. He backed up, before he fell over a table bench, and he landed on the ground. Then there came a sharp, metallic, sound, and the predator blades hellishly framed Karl as he scurried back. He couldn't go any further, he was helpless. The shadow of a predator spread over Karl's terrified face, before three red, laser dots scanned across Karl, as they passed over his face.
In the predator's point of view, he could see Karl, frozen in fear, but then the image reformed, and scanned an area over Karl's shoulder. There was nothing there, until the image re-scanned, to reveal an alien, with its twin mouths open, and in preparation to strike, before the Xenomorph lunged towards Yautja. The twin blades extended from the Predator's wrist, before they scythed down. Their razor-sharp edges caught the light, as they came straight down on the Alien.
