Alien vs. Predator: Pt 1
Well, it appears I must award points to multiple people for their knowledge of movie quotes. Congratulations to all those that correctly guest Starship Troopers!
On to more serious matters: this chapter will finally feature events I've been dying to write about for months now. Subject 3 going to Antarctica and battling with the Predators.
This will be following the movie closely, so if stuff seems familiar, it probably is.
Now let's get to the story…
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Antarctica
October 10, 1904
Razorback Point Whaling Station
A man with shaggy, blonde hair and a frost covered beard ran through the abandoned buildings of the station. He was running from it, running from them.
The man and the rest of the crew had made port here some months ago to find and kill whales for their oil, and meat. They had met with great success, greater success than they had ever imagined. In the few months they had been here, they already had enough barrels filled to satisfy three different expeditions.
That was they found the pyramid beneath the ice.
Against all better judgement, the natural curiosity of man demanded they explore their find. The chances for fame, glory, and wealth was too much to ignore. Entering the strange structure, the men found otherworldly statues, and unknown marking and symbols. Delving deeper into the pyramid, the whalers came across a strange chamber filled with skeletons…that were missing most of their ribcages. When they saw the remains of the spider-like creatures with the long tails, they should've left.
Clearly, they did not.
Instead, large, leathery, egg-things rose from sacrificial altars. Once more, the innate desire for more knowledge had the whalers get closer to the eggs. The tops of the things opened…and Death's outstretched hand greeted them.
The spiders attached themselves to the faces of most of those present. Survival instincts kicked in and the rest ran for their lives…only to encounter giant distortions in the air. Distortions that had swords and spears.
The monsters had swiftly slaughtered the fleeing whalers. The blonde man was able use the harpoon he brought with him to some degree of defense, the creatures were far stronger, and far more well-versed in combat.
The blonde man would've been killed like the others…if the black serpents hadn't showed up. What followed next was a brutal battle between two species, a battle that the blonde did not sit around to see.
He grabbed his harpoon and made a beeline straight for the entrance. On his way up, one of the serpent things had intercepted him. Maybe it was God, maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the man's sheer will to survive, but armed with his whale-spear the man had killed the black-beast.
That was when he learned what acid did to objects.
Weaponless, terror had returned and the blonde desperately reached the surface to warn the crew that had stayed topside to start pushing off…only to find their skinless bodies hanging upside down from the yardarms.
Now his fear only increased ten-fold.
Stumbling through the buildings, erratically looking behind to make sure he wasn't about to be turned into a kebab, the blonde reached the first sign of shelter. Pushing the heavy, frost covered door open, the man found the heat of the mess hall comforting, inviting, and warm.
Slamming the door shut behind him, relief flooded his body. Maybe now he was safe…
Then he heard the dreaded clicking of it.
His body went ramrod-straight, fear gripping him in a vice. Slowly, rigidly, the man turned, and saw what he prayed he wouldn't. A giant distortion stood behind him.
The man stumbled back as the creature clicked and became visible. He fell and the creature's blades were drawn from its wrist. Crawling backwards, the man looked behind him, searching for a way out. He found none and slammed into a counter.
Three red dots in the form of a triangle appeared on his chest, and began travelling towards his head. Hearing a sound to his left, the man jerked his head saw one of the serpents!
How did it get in here!?
The serpent shrieked and leapt at the giant. What happened next was irrelevant, because the blonde took the opportunity to get the hell out of dodge. Sprinting through the snow-covered station once more, ignoring the biting cold, the man reached the whaling ship. Staggering down into the hold, an idea formed in the man's mind.
One that involved oil, gunpowder, and a flame.
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The man survived his ordeal at the whaling station, and was rescued by another ship in the area…one that came to investigate the smoke and fire. Knowing that no one would believe the truth, the man spun a convincing tale of an accident that caused the whale oil to explode, killing all but him.
Returning to America, the man quit whaling, and used the funds he had gathered to get in touch with scientists, historians, and researchers. Through expeditions and discoveries, the man became wealthy, and intelligent.
Using his money, the man founded a research company that looked into matters of medicine and science, but behind closed doors, looked into matters of extraterrestrial origin.
When he started his company, Robert Itexicon had no idea the things it would go on to accomplish.
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October 3, 2004
Badwater Basin
The School
While a Weyland Industries satellite picked up an unidentified heat signature over Sector 14, the Director, and her subordinates Groves and Batchelder, were having a very important conversation.
"The time has come, gentlemen. After one-hundred years of waiting, the pyramid is reactivating. I have no doubt that with this event, the creatures that my father spoke about will be returning, and with them will come the opportunity to better ourselves. The weapons my father described will undoubtedly provide us with an armory of advanced technology, and the body of the creatures will propel us decades into the future of genetics."
Marian looked extremely proud of herself, Groves was smirking widely, and Batchelder looked apprehensive.
"You say that as if we have a 100% chance of either killing or capturing one of these things," said the scientist.
The Director smirked in a way that made Jeb cringe, "Oh, but we do. Why on earth do you think we bothered synthesizing the alien's DNA? When you came to me with the knowledge of Subject 3's unique genetic code, I provided you with resources and money to conduct your experiments. And, after witnessing the resounding success of the boy, it was only logical to mark him up for the Program."
Jeb's glasses looked about ready to fall off his face, "That was seven years ago…you couldn't possibly have planned to use Subject 3 for this purpose. The amount of variables is astronomical."
"That may be, Jeb, but I've always been a good gambler. The entire purpose of Subject 3, from the moment she emerged from the chrysalis, was to fight and defeat those creatures. Based on my father's stories, the Serpent's and the Creatures are natural-born enemies. Using that hypothesis, I expect Subject 3 to fight them with extreme prejudice. When the dust settles, we'll come in and pick up the scraps."
Jeb stared at her for a moment, before asking a bunch of questions, "How do you expect to get Subject 3 to Antarctica? What happens if the creatures don't show up? What happens if they do, but they kill the girl? What happens if the creatures' bodies are unrecoverable? What happens if Subject 3 escapes and goes more rogue than she already is? If she succeeds in killing the creatures, how do you get her back to here? What will you do if Subject 3 and the creatures team up against us? What happens if both parties are mutually destroyed?"
Janssen's eye twitched, "We'll get her to Antarctica by ship. If they don't show up, we keep waiting. If Subject 3 dies, it means she wasn't strong enough, and we'll create something that is. If the bodies are unrecoverable, we'll salvage what we can. If she goes rogue, we'll hunt her down and recover her. To get her back here will require incentive. If they team up, I'll drop a nuke on their location. If both are destroyed, we'll take back what's left. Anything else?"
Jeb nodded, "What ship? How long will we have to wait? How do we make something stronger than our strongest experiment yet? What amount of personnel will it take to 'recover' a fleeing Subject 3? What kind of incentive? Where the hell do you have a nuclear bomb? And if there's nothing left?"
"The ship that Weyland will no doubt use to get to Antarctica. We'll wait as long as it takes. We will find a way. As many as are needed. The kind that involves friends. Deep into my anus. If there's nothing left, then too bad. Anything else?"
Jeb opened his mouth, but Groves was quick to cut him off, "Actually, Director, I was wondering what makes you so sure that Weyland will take a ship to the island?"
Janssen chuckled, "You used to work for him did you not? You tell me why he would even do to Antarctica in the first place."
Groves thought for a moment, recalling his time spent with the billionaire, "Weyland is ambitious, but he also has an inferiority complex. Despite his wealth, he is correct in his belief that money is meaningless in the grand scheme of things. So…" his eyes lit up in an epiphany, "He will go to the pyramid in order to 'discover' it, and have his name marked down as the one who discovered the remains of the civilization that built it."
The Director nodded, "And he will become immortal in the same way Columbus, Cortez, and de Gama have become. A historical icon," she said wistfully. "Such a shame he will never live to see it."
"Ma'am?" Groves and Batchelder asked in unison.
"What? Did you really think that I would allow for outside parties to know of something of this magnitude? Subject 3 had shown excellent assassination skills. Time to put them to work."
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Pocket Dimension
The Fates slammed their hands to their faces in perfect sync. Of course the Yautja would come back. Of course someone would notice that damn pyramid reactivating. Of course that person would gather a team to investigate. Of course Janssen would send Percy to go with that team.
Of course they would get to the pyramid by way of the sea.
Why couldn't they have just gone by way of air? It would've been so much less complicated, and so much easier to hide Poseidon's daughter from Zeus in the air, than in the Sea God's home domain.
Now they would have to pull in a lot of power to keep the girl hidden from her father. Unlike his younger brother, Poseidon was still very attentive and involved in the search for his son. The sea didn't care about gender, however, and would easily recognize one of its own.
On top of keeping her hidden, the Fates also dreaded what the next few days would bring. Even with all of their divine power, they could not prevent that from happening…
The Daughters of Ananke feared that the incurring wrath of Poseidon's daughter would lead to the deaths of millions.
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Ice Breaker ship: Piper Maru
October 3, 2004
Subject 3 really hated the bitch that was Marian Janssen. She and the Flock were literal hours away from starting phase one of their escape plan, when Erasers busted in to their respective holding areas. The Flock was made into hostages as insurance that she does as she was told.
That was to stowaway on some billionaire's boat and prevent the crew from exploring an ancient pyramid. Noncompliance would result in the avians' deaths. Something the alien hybrid would not allow to happen.
Sucking up her pride and swallowing her fury, S-3 accompanied the Director and Groves (Batchelder stayed behind to 'hold down the fort') to the port where the ship was docked. Sneaking aboard was child's play, and hiding was even easier.
The worst part of the entire ordeal was that on the ride to the ship, Groves and Janssen were sitting right in front of her. Their smug faces as they knew she couldn't do anything to them without getting the Flock murdered was nothing short of rage-inducing.
The temptation to slaughter those two was so great, but even the slightest hint of hostile movement would result in the Director pressing a button that would paint a room with bird-kid brain matter. Those two had said they would monitor the 'mission' via satellite.
But that was the past. Now she was sticking to the ceiling of the ice breaker's cargo hold, her body camouflaging to match the metal. Beneath her were the people that Weyland had hired for his expedition.
They were all ambitious idiots with dreams of grandeur. The only one here with a level head was Alexa Woods, an expert ice-guide that realized that these people would need weeks of training to be prepared for this ordeal.
Such a shame she would have to die as well.
Another thing that Janssen wanted the demigoddess to do was kill everyone on the Piper Maru. Noncompliance would result in the Flock's death. It was either the lives of complete strangers, or, dare she say it, her family.
Watching Weyland's presentation over the pyramid, and de Rosa's theory that it was by the 'First Civilization,' the girl felt a strange kinship with the ancient structure. A powerful instinct within her told Subject 3 that these people were outsiders, and needed to be gone. They knew far too much already.
But a massacre right here and now would cause more problems that what were needed, and killing them off one-by-one during the voyage would only arouse suspicion and insight panic among the crew. So, like she seemed to be doing a lot recently, Subject 3 resolved to wait.
Another instinct demanded that she goes the pyramid, like an ancient calling. A calling to an ancient feud.
She would end the lives of these scientists and mercenaries swiftly and painlessly…when they arrived at the island.
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A few hundred meters from the moon
The alien ship silently flew passed Earth's natural satellite. Within the armory, three masks silently watched as the holographic pyramid sprang to life. The pyramid was down-sized to a corner of the hologram, and a line was created from it to the ship.
A trajectory.
The alien ship's cannon began to glow red…before shooting a beam of plasma straight through Earth's atmosphere and through the ice, carving out a perfect path right down to the Hunting Grounds.
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Unknown forested location
The Goddess Artemis sat alone on the edge of a cliff that stood high above the churning sea. It was night time, and her Symbol of Power shined brightly above.
Her usual bright, silver eyes now glowed a faint red, however. Just like the moon. A century had passed since last Yautja hunt, and it was time for the Young-Bloods to prove themselves worthy once more.
Artemis smirked to herself when she thought of the alien race. While it was predominantly male, they were not like the humans of this world. Male Yautja thought not of superiority of their sex, but of the glory that their trophies brought. The same for the females. Instead of judging each other based on aesthetic and monetary values as it seemed most humans did these days, Yautja found mates based size, strength, honor, and trophies.
In their society, you were either a good hunter, or you made weapons.
"My lady, thou have been sitting there for some time. Is everything well?"
Artemis was broken from her musings as her lieutenant made her presence known. Copper skin, volcanic-black eyes, brown hair pulled into a pony-tail, dressed in the usual silver parka, and a silver circlet around her head. Zoё Nightshade was quite beautiful for a thousand's-of-years old girl.
Immortality did have its benefits.
"Yes, Zoё, I'm fine. Tell me, lieutenant, do you know the date?"
"It's October 10, 2004. Why doth thou ask?"
Artemis smiled softly at Zoё's obliviousness, "What happens on this date every century?"
Volcanic eyes widened in realization, "The Yautja are coming back?" She sounded excited. Then again, the daughter of Atlas always had enjoyed the hunts with the Hunter-aliens.
"Indeed they are."
"Art we going to watch them like we usually do, M'lady?"
Artemis smiled at her excited lieutenant, "Of course we are. Every hundred years they come, and every hundred years we watch via the moon. Why would this year be any different?"
Zoё took a calming breath, "I'll inform the rest of the Hunt of this evening's activities."
As the Huntress left, the smile fell from Artemis' face, 'It's been eleven years since your birth, Perseus Jackson, and you've managed to hide from every god and goddess on Olympus, even me, the Goddess of Hunting. While tonight should have nothing to do with you, I can't shake the feeling that you will be involved in some way…'
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Damn! It! All!
What other pantheon had to deal with this crap!?
Percy was not ready. Luke was not ready. Kronos was getting there, but not quite. The events of the Great Prophecy were not yet ready to be unraveled, but it seemed that the very universe was against them. Hiding the Percy from her father (while he was at sea) was hard-fucking-enough, now they had to block Artemis from using her Symbol of Power as a TV screen *pause for mental breath* to watch a grudge-match between Subject 3 and a trio of Predators!
Finishing their mental rant, the Fates grew even more depressed because that event was due to happen in less than 48 hours. Damage control was already through the roof…now it was about sail through the moon.
No pun intended.
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"Everybody listen up!" Alexa Woods said loudly, getting the attention of all those currently in the loading bay. "Gather 'round."
Under his breath, Graeme Miller told Sebastian de Rosa, "I told you she'd stay. She can't resist my animal magnetism." He had a thick accent. De Rosa gave him a strange look.
"Laugh it up Miller, laugh it up," interrupted Mark Verheiden.
"Gentlemen," Lex scolded. Now with everyone's attention, she said, "It is my job to keep you alive on this expedition…and I need your help to do that. Since I don't have time to properly train you, I'm laying down three simple rules. One, no one goes anywhere alone, ever. Two, everyone must maintain constant communication. Three, unexpected things are going to happen…when they do, no tries to be a hero. Understood?" There were multiple nods and a few muffled affirmatives.
Lex sent a pointed look at Verheiden, "Understood?"
The man hesitated before responding loudly, "Yes ma'am."
Lex smiled, "Good."
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Lex approached Adele Rousseau, who was currently loading a pistol clip, "Seven seasons on the ice, and I've never seen a gun save a someone's life."
"I don't plan on using it," Rousseau answered as she holstered her weapon.
"The why bring it?"
Rousseau considered for a moment, "Same principle as a condom. I'd rather have one and not need it…then need it, and not have it." Lex grinned at her friend's reasoning. "I'm glad you decided to stay."
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A convoy of snow trucks rumbled across the ice. Within one, Lex and Sebastian were getting to know each other.
"What's with the bottle cap?" Lex asked.
Sebastian stopped playing with it. "What?" he asked dumbly.
"What's with the bottle cap?" she repeated.
"Oh…this is a 'valuable archeological find.'" Lex giggled lightly at his sarcastic response. Sebastian flicked his bottle cap before looking outside the window at the moon, "When I was a kid growing up in Italy, you know what they call a moon that big?"
Lex hummed.
"La Luna del cacciatore."
Lex valiantly repeated the phrase, close enough that Sebastian congratulated her. "What's that?" she asked.
The Italian leaned in, "Hunter's moon."
How ominous.
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With all of the scientists gone, Subject 3 went to town on the remaining crew members. Cutting the main power to give herself an environmental advantage, she made the next thirty-eight kills quick and painless. There was no reason to drag this out. They were all victims of circumstance, at the wrong place at the wrong time.
But no one could know of this location, or bear witness to closely approaching battle. No one.
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Gathering at the cliff, the expedition watched as Lex fired off a flare, illuminating the abyss below, "It's an abandoned whaling station. According to your satellite imagery, Mr. Weyland, the pyramid is located directly beneath it."
Weyland took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
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After somehow getting the trucks that were loaded with the drilling equipment down into the station, Maxwell Stafford got out and began giving orders, "We'll use this place as a basecamp. Mr. Quinn, begin drilling operations as soon as you can."
"I'm on it. Okay guys. Let's move out." Quinn headed back to galvanize the men.
Sometime later, Stafford, Weyland, and Miller were walking through the station. Stafford lit a flare, painting the snow a deep red color. The trio observed their surroundings, taking note of how everything was strewn about the place. They it was abandoned, as in left alone for many decades, but this looked like the whalers dropped everything and ran.
Strange.
Miller, a naturally curious little man, decided to some exploring of his own. Breaking away from the other two, the man wondered backward before lighting his own flare. Walking around for a bit, Miller found a shed he wanted to enter.
With great effort, he pried the door open, the light from his flare casting an ominous glow through the shed. The flare light faded, so Miller turned on his flashlight, and began to look around. What caught his attention most was dinner ware that was left out…as if just before a meal.
Miller grinned as he went over to examine the plates and cups. He set his light down and attempted to grasp the handle of a cup…only for the hundred-year-old frozen china to snap off. "Oh," he said in surprise.
"One for National Geographic." He put his camera up on a shelf, ready for a picture. The flash went off, and the sound of rattling metal had Miller whirling around, his heart skipping a beat. He slowly moved his light around, his breathing rapidly increasing because of his fear.
The fear of the unknown.
Miller heard the sound of movement once more, this time to his left. He trained the flashlight in that direction, searching for the cause of the disturbances. He backed up, slowly turning his body-
CLANG!
Miller jumped in fright when he hit the metal pots and pans above him. Taking several deep breathes to calm his racing nerves once more, Miller began to steadily take more steps back. Rustling was heard right behind him and he swiveled around, desperately trying to find what was terrorizing him so.
Steeling his nerves, he looked around the table that was blocking his vision. Seeing nothing, Miller began to retreat, survival instincts demanding that he leave. He took one step…two steps…three steps.
Then something touched him.
Oh, it was just Lex. "No one…goes anywhere…alone," she said slowly. Miller shushed her midsentence though, "Shhhh…there's something there. Listen."
Lex looked at where Miller had pointed, her own curiosity showing. They heard a squawking noise, before a cute little penguin came waddling by. The two chuckled to themselves, before Lex said to Miller, "Careful. They bite."
The penguin looked at the two humans, before it's tiny eyes widened when it saw what was behind them.
Miller and Lex watched as the penguin scrambled under a nearby table. Lex opened her mouth to say that they needed to get back to the others…only for something large, white, and covered in blood to erupt through where Miller's heart used to be. The man gurgled, his hands reaching up to touch it, only for them to lock in place. Blood dripped from his mouth as he shakily looked at the shell-shocked Lex.
The blade was suddenly taken out with sickening squelching noise. Miller fell face-first in a lifeless heap. That was when Lex saw the thing that had just killed her friend. Skin white as the snow around them, red-covered tail pointed at her, and green eyes with slit-pupils, suspended in pools of darkness.
Lex's mouth opened to scream…but it never came out.
It was hard to talk with a bladed tail spearing your larynx.
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Sebastian noticed some debris and went to investigate. What he found had him calling out to the other's. Weyland, Quin, and Stafford quickly came to stand by him, staring at the giant ice tunnel. Gathering some equipment, Quin through a flare down the ice, the machine mapping it at a perfect 30-degree-angle. Looking behind them, they noticed the top of some of the buildings had curved roofs that lined up perfectly with the tunnel.
Tracking the flare, they noted that it went all the way down to the pyramid. Something far beyond any human technological feat. Weyland asked Quin if there was anything that could make such a tunnel. The answer was no. Weyland summarized that the only way to find out if another team was present, was to get down to the pyramid to see for themselves.
Looking around, Sebastian noticed two very important people missing from the group, "Where are Lex and Miller?"
Quin, Weyland, and Stafford noticed their absence as well, their heads turning in every direction to find their missing companions. They were milliseconds from racing back to basecamp to organize a search…when the sound of screaming tore through the frozen air.
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"What happened," Weyland yelled upon arrival.
The men were huddled around one of the snow-trucks, something keeping their attention. Pushing through the crowd, the billionaire saw what the cause of the commotion was: a corpse with a hole in his head.
"How did this happen?" Stafford questioned.
Nervously, some answered, "We don't know. One second he's unloading the truck, the next he's doubling over like a baseball hit his head or something. I went over to check on him, but…" the man trailed off. It was clear he was the one that had screamed.
Weyland was about to start barking orders and directions, but Sebastian suddenly pitched forward, facedown into the snow, a new opening in the back of his head. Before panic could ensue, three more men were dropped by an unseen force, this time from a different angle.
That could only mean one plausible thing… "Sniper!"
Like roaches under a light, all of the men took off running in several different directions, trying to escape. As Stafford pulled Weyland behind cover, the old man began to think about the situation.
A sniper team was plausible. A rival expedition looking to claim the pyramid for themselves, and eliminate anyone already there. But the holes in that theory were obvious: point A was that Weyland's team just got there, so that would mean the snipers had only just arrived. Point B was that these people had gotten here first, which was impossible because Weyland had checked with all of his corporate spies to keep tabs on competition, and the team he assembled would've seen any activity upon arrival.
Speaking of team, where were Miller and Woods?
A seed of dread bloomed in Weyland's chest. The people shooting must have killed them first. Wait…shooting…there were no more people dying. Where were the snipers?
Weyland wasn't the only one that noticed the lack of activity. "Verheiden!" Stafford barked. "Get the guns!" The man nodded and sprinted to the truck that carried their emergency weapons. Unloading a number of cases, Verheiden threw them to the personnel trained to handle this type of firearm.
The men unloaded the cases, revealing the G36C's hidden within. They checked the clips, pulled the bolts, and activated the laser sights. Razorback Point was suddenly covered in green beams. Verheiden was the last to grab an assault rifle…and he was the first to die in the next onslaught.
Weyland watched in a combination of horror and fascination as something small, white, and lethal leapt from the roof of a shed, landing on Verheiden with enough force to send snow flying into the air, obscuring what happened.
Stafford was about to open fire into the plume, but the billionaire shoved the barrel down. "Don't. You'll those on the other side." That's when Weyland realized that the creature had intentionally done that in order to set up a crossfire.
Gun fire and screams filled the air once again, and when bullets began to whiz by his head, Stafford pulled Weyland away from where they were, this time to behind a shed. The others hiding nearby quickly followed. Surrounding their benefactor in a protective circle, the group heard the sound of tearing flesh, the gunfire dying out. Weyland took this time to take a puff from his inhaler.
All was silent until…CRUNCH!
The men all jumped when something impacted the snow behind them. The powder fell back to the earth, revealing the creature within. A little over five feet, skin whiter than the snow, completely naked, revealing female genitalia and budding breasts. Long 'hair,' longer tail, and eyes that pierced their very souls.
What drew the attention the most, was the red liquid covering the hands, the tip of the tale, and the mouth.
One man screamed to high-heaven and unloaded his gun, the others, even Stafford, did the same. Their weapons had the same effect as marshmallow blasters.
The girl's tail twitched, and only Weyland and Stafford reacted in time to duck. The rest were decapitated in a violent flash of white, blood splattering all over the whaling station's banner.
Stafford growled before ditching his gun and pulling out his knife. "Run, sir! Get back to the boat!"
The billionaire wasted no time in doing just that, his experience telling him it would be futile to argue. Besides, he had to get back to civilization, make plans on how to capture the girl, and study it. Oh, the things they would accomplish by unlocking the secrets of the pyramid and the creature!
He would go down in history as an archeological and genetic pioneer!
"AHHHHHH!"
Weyland didn't even break his stride when Stafford's scream split the cold night air, nor did the sight of corpses make him pause. Scrambling into a still-running truck, the billionaire wasted no time in jerking the wheel and gunning the motor. The truck took off with a lurch.
A sigh of relief escaped Weyland's mouth. It was smooth driving from here. Stafford's sacrifice had bought him enough time to load up and drive off. Now, all he had to do was get to the boat, arm everyone, and sail off back to the mainland-
THUMP
"Mother fu-!"
Weyland was ripped out of the truck via something pulling him through the door. He landed in the unforgiving snow with enough force to break his ribs and crack his spine. He was paralyzed.
He took wheezing breaths, vaguely aware of the truck careening straight into a shed and exploding. His eyes widened when the creature emerged from the wreckage, her white body wreathed in fire. Weyland blinked, and the creature was standing over him.
Sea green stared deep into hazel, the crimson moon glowing brightly above. The girl's mouth opened impossibly wide, revealing translucent teeth, elongated canines, and black tissues. Weyland saw something green bubbling up at the back of her throat, his widening in terror upon realizing what was coming.
Before he died, the founder of Weyland Industries heard a young, female voice say in his head, 'Foolish old man.'
The he was burning…then he was nothing.
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Perhaps in a manner of repeating history, Adele Rousseau stumbled through Razorback Point, frantically looking behind her. Whatever that thing was, she wanted no part of it. Unlike the others, she had gone looking for Miller and Woods…and had been successful. The fear and panic in her body was only amplified when the sound of yelling and gunfire tore through the whaling station.
Rushing to the scene, Rousseau arrived just in time to see a man split down the middle by what looked like a white, bony tail. That had been enough to send the Frenchie packing for somewhere to hide.
Then there was an explosion on the way back to the boat, and that was enough to send Rousseau in the other direction. Now her panic-induced, fear-filled mind was having trouble deciding where lay low, the large number of sheds and bunkhouses confusing her to no end.
Finally catching sight of a partially open door, Rousseau clambered up to it, using her muscles to pry the door further open. Her instincts then demanded that the turn around. Upon doing so, she had a split second to register the most horrifying set of eyes she had ever seen, before she was sent flying through the air.
In a mix kinetic impact and pure terror, the woman's bladder released itself into her pants.
Not even aware of her accident, Rousseau desperately un-holstered her sidearm, only to drop it into the snow. Springing up only to fall back down. Rousseau glanced up, seeing the blood-covered demon approaching, and quickened the search for her weapon. She found it and immediately snapped up, pointing the barrel forward…right into monster's navel.
Rousseau squeaked before something tore a hole through her chest, right through her heart. Instant death.
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Subject 3 sat cross-legged on top of the tallest building of Razorback Point, her tail spiraling loosely around her body, her back ramrod straight, her hands in her lap.
Now that her first 'task' was complete, there was no need to camouflage her body, so she let her exoskeleton return to base color. This was also the time to think. During her extermination, she had felt the Yautja ship pass over, and a few moments later felt the impact of the three pods.
The Yautja were currently sprinting towards here at an impressive pace of fiftyish miles an hour. The trio would arrive sometime in the next ten minutes based on their current pace.
That allowed time to prepare, time to think.
The first thing she thought about was the ungodly feeling of being watched. Sure, Janssen and Groves were probably having a field day from their satellite feed, but this feeling…it felt like multiple pairs of eyes were watching with opened-mouth shock.
Turning her slitted eyes to the crimson moon above, the nagging feeling strengthened.
Shaking the feeling off, Subject 3's thoughts moved onto another matter: the approaching battle. God, she felt something stir deep within her, something that she had never felt before: exhilaration. She was excited about the confrontation ahead. The chance for a challenge, the chance to truly test her strength, her power!
No more rolling over opponents, no more waltzing over a floor of corpses, no more dominating the arena. No, this time she would have a fight. Her skills and ability would be tested tonight like they never were before, perhaps never will be again.
And when she got back to the mainland…
CL-L-L-L-CK
Sea green eyes zeroed in on a nearby rooftop. Standing on top of the roof were three distortions in the air, outlined in red. A buzzing sound filled the air as the Yautja de-cloaked, revealing their well-armed and armored forms. They were tall, and extremely muscular. Their bio-masks covered their faces, hiding their feature from view.
The left Predator's mask was simple in design. The middle one's mask was more intricate. The right one's mask was similar to the left one, only less mean.
S-3 could feel the Predators cycling through vision modes, determining what she was, and if she would make for worthy prey. Well, there was a simple way of deciding for them.
The daughter of Poseidon exploded from her position on the roof, tackling the middle Predator into the snow below. They landed with jarring force, but the Predator recovered quicker. Subject 3 was thrown off of the hunter.
Her feet skidded through the snow, before she came to a stop. Her electro-location and seismic-sensing detected that the left Predator had made a run for the pyramid, no doubt to retrieve the plasma casters. Yeah, how about no.
Taking off from her position in the snow, Subject 3 easily caught up to the Predator due to her superior speed. She approached form the side, on a path that would have made NFL linebackers proud. However, instincts flared and S-3 leapt up and twisted to avoid the Smart Disc that the right Predator had thrown. Unfortunately, that momentary distraction had given the fleeing Predator enough time to hop down the tunnel.
Very well then. Two on one? That sounded fair.
The Predator with the intricate mask and the Predator with the plain mask, Subject 3 decided to call them Celtic and Wave, approached her with bravado. Celtic's wrist blades descended, and he brought them forward with his signature clicks. Wave pulled his combi stick frim his back, and extended it with a few jerks of his wrist before gripping it with both hands.
Subject 3 also made a display. She hunched over, her legs spread and slightly bent, her arms spread wide, claws forward, and her tail pointed at the Celtic Predator. Her teeth were bared at the Predators, saliva dripping from her lips.
A primal instinct deep within her body told her to fight, and to win…by any means necessary. That was something Poseidon's daughter had no qualms about doing.
The Predators cycled through vision modes once more. Infrared, X-ray, cardiovascular, nervous, ultra-violet, gamma-ray, a plethora of different spectrums…before they came to the perfect one. A vision mode that filtered the light-waves that bounced off of a specific species.
EM vision.
Subject 3 was suddenly glowing green. Celtic roared and charged straight forward in a head-on assault, his powerful legs kicking up plumes of snow. S-3 shrieked on leapt forward in challenge. The two powerful creatures met in a bone-jarring clash.
Instinct vs training.
Celtic rammed into the girl's body in a manner similar to that of a football player. Wrapping his massive arms around the slimmer waist, Celtic turned and began to ram Subject 3 through the buildings, each wall smashed only served to further the hybrid's ire. After the fourth wall was destroyed, her tail slashed across the Predator's unprotected ligaments.
The two went sprawling to the ground, Celtic landing on his knees.
Subject 3 popped up, and spun around, backhanding the dazed Yautja. Celtic's head snapped to the side, but his neck did not break. Subject 3 curled that same hand and swung for a devastating haymaker, only for Celtic's arm to snap up, stopping her arm cold. Celtic's left went for an uppercut, only for S-3's right to grab his fist. The girl slammed her head into the Predator's bio-mask.
Truly dazed from the blow, Celtic instinctively brought his arms up to cradle his skull. It was not enough to protect him from the powerful blows to his ears made from Subject 3's hands. Celtic's eardrums ruptured, fluorescent green dripping down the side of his head.
The hybrid swiped left, then right, drawing twin claw marks across the bio-mask. The third swipe ripped the mask off entirely. Celtic gasped as oxygen entered his lungs. It wouldn't be fatal, not yet. Without the altered vision of his mask, the world turned a blurry red.
Subject 3 was about to deliver the killing blow, only to handspring backwards to avoid the combi stick. Wave burst into the building, bulldozing through furniture and other things. The Predator reeled his arm back, his Wrist Gauntlet charged with power, and thrust it forward.
The hybrid reacted in time to bring her arms in front of her to form a defense, but Wave's strike blew her out of the building.
Wave turned to look at his fellow Young Blood. Celtic reached for his belt and pulled out a small cylinder. He gripped the tube with both hands before twisting, revealing the blue shards on the inside. With a microsecond of hesitation, Celtic stabbed himself with the shards.
His roar of pain made Wave cover his ears.
Recovering from the deafening sound, Wave retrieved his combi stick. Not waiting for his brother to regain his strength (The Health Shards accelerated the healing the process, but damn did they hurt), Wave promptly hopped out the hole he punched the Serpent-girl through. Dropping two feet to the ground below, the Predator was suddenly picked up by his head, which really hurt, and thrown backwards over the building he just came out of.
His combi stick was lost from his grip.
Landing on his front, his armor and powerful muscles absorbing most of the damage, on the opposite side of the building, Wave stood up with a growl. The Serpent-girl landed in front of him, his extended combi stick held in her grasp.
The girl let out a brief screech, before her tail whipped out behind her, destroying the foundation of the building. The entire structure came crashing down, burying Celtic alive. In his current condition, the Predator was going to have hell digging out of that.
Wave was on his own…for now.
In a manner unbefitting that of a Serpent, the girl tossed Wave's combi stick back to him. Deftly catching the weapon, the Predator made an impressive display of spinning and twirling the combi stick, a display that ended with one end pointed at the Serpent-girl.
Subject 3 lashed out with her tail, the Predator batting it aside. This process repeated a few times, each strike growing faster, harder. Each time, Wave was pressed even more to parry. Eventually, Wave's reflexes were worn down, and he was too slow to parry the strike that pierced his right leg.
The Predator roared and fell to his knee, his hand reaching down to stem the blood-flow. Then his head snapped up just in time to see a small fist collide with his bio-mask, sending him skidding across the snow, his combi stick once again lost form his grip. Wave's momentary daze was enough for Subject 3 to capitalize on.
Leaping the thirty-foot distance instantly, the hybrid dug her claws deep into the exposed flesh in the arms of the Predator. His roar echoed through the crimson-lit night. Subject 3 raised her tail in preparation to spear Wave's head…but the reflection in his bio-mask's lenses made her flip backward.
Just in time to avoid the Smart Disc.
The Disc curved in midair, coming right back at Subject 3. A quick shot of molecular acid sent the Disc melting into the snow. An obvious distraction, because Wave predictably lurched forward in an attempt to catch her off-guard…only to be impaled through the stomach by her tail.
The Predator shuddered as the cold feeling of death began to seep into his bones. Subject 3 pulled her tail back, bringing Wave closer to her face. Sea green eyes stared into grey lenses.
SCHING
Subject 3 froze as a foreign feeling erupted from her abdomen. Looking down, she saw the strangest sight…the Predator's wrist-blades were piercing through her body, her blood dripping from the blades and the wounds, causing the snow to hiss and steam. Amazingly, the metal that made up the wrist-blades wasn't being corroded by her blood. Interesting.
Even more interesting, the red glow of the moon seemed to intensify, as if it was shocked by what it was seeing. That feeling of being watched returned once more. Strange…despite being stabbed, she didn't feel any…pain. Like when she was shot, she felt the impact, but it didn't hurt.
This was like that.
Subject 3 growled at the same time Wave did. The hybrid grabbed the Predator's arms, and struggled to pull them out. She succeeded, and the holes in her body closed. For the first time in her eleven years of life, Poseidon's daughter felt the experience known as 'tickling.'
Wave was growing weaker. The tail buried in his guts was causing him to lose too much blood, his consciousness fading. Celtic was still trapped under the shed, and Scar still hadn't made it back from the pyramid with their Plasma Casters.
In a last ditch effort to kill the Serpent-girl, he stabbed her through the intestines. It had no effect. With his strength waning, the Serpent-girl had pulled his arms out, and held them out to her sides.
Her tail stabbing Wave's stomach, her arms holding his wrist-blades away, and her legs holding her up, that only left her mouth. Subject 3's jaws opened wide…and clamped down on the Predator's throat. The hybrid jerked her head back, bringing the Hunter's neck with it, painting her face fluorescent green.
Subject 3 let Wave's arms go, the Yautja's heavy body falling lifelessly into the snow.
It was at this moment that Celtic rose from the rubble with a monstrous yell, lightning flashing above. The Predator quickly surveyed his surroundings, zeroing in on the forms of the Serpent-girl…and his fallen brother.
With a roar of vengeance, Celtic charged at the Abomination, fully intent on killing her. Subject 3 glanced down at her feet…right at the combi stick. In a motion too fast for the human eye to register, she grabbed the weapon and hurled it at the Predator. Celtic jerked his upper-body to the side, the combi stick passing inches from his bio-mask.
Then something slammed into him with enough force to make his armor spark.
Celtic used the momentum from the strike to roll into a standing position, coming face-to-face with Death. Subject 3 used her tail like a jackhammer, rapidly stabbing the Predator in the torso, tearing through his armor like tissue paper. She stabbed him through one final time, before using her tail to throw the Yautja over her shoulder, the impact shattering Celtic's jaw.
His mind exploding with pain, his body completely unresponsive, the primal instinct of Flight-or-Fight overriding his soul. Desperately trying to crawl away, his life fluid painting the snow green, Celtic knew his life was over when the Serpent-girl crawled on top of him.
Looking up, he saw that the tunnel leading down to the Hunting Grounds was only a few hundred feet away. Looking back, he saw the Serpent-girl's tail descending.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Bright green stained her hands, her tail, and her face. That was…that was…that was the most amazing thing she had ever done. The way those two fought, the way they moved, the way they coordinated. From the very beginning she knew that fighting them as a group would be suicide, so splitting them up was key. She just didn't expect it to be so easy. One of them ran off, the other one tackled her through buildings, and the last one had to find where they were.
Speaking of the one who ran off…
BZZT
BZZT
Subject 3 leapt high into the air to avoid the plasma bolts that exploded when they hit the snow.
BZZT
BZZT
She blitzed behind a shed when she landed, narrowly avoiding the next two bolts.
BZZT
BZZT
Two more bolts blew up the shed she was hiding behind, but now she had entered the maze, hidden from view. Safe from the final Predator's sight, Subject 3 analyzed the threat. Instead of one plasma caster, this one had equipped two. Dual wrist-blades, combi stick, three Smart Discs, health shards, plasma mines, medical pack, and ceremonial knife.
And a deep-rooted desire to kill her.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I think 8k words is enough to excuse my tardiness. It would've been longer, but I decided to cut it here. The next chapter will finish the fight and will probably make all of you hate me, but hey. Win some, lose some.
The next update is indefinite because I'm going through some tough shit in life right now, it's the reason this was so late.
Fav, Follow, and Review please!
