Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Alien/Predator series or any characters and may not follow all customs and cultures found in Alien/Predator movies.

It felt like he was flying.

He hadn't gotten fully conscious yet but he could sense the world around him. The wind was blowing around his body, swirling in a circle like a spider wrapping its web for a cocoon. Well, it was somewhat like that since there was some kind of binding around him. I need to wake up. I need to wake up.

His vivid memory of recent events came back, remembering the pile of bodies around him, the blood that seeped into the soil and in his nose, the fire that burned like the Gates of Hell. The worst image was hearing those haunting words before the blades ripped into the General, his still beating heart in a clawed hand. It was daunting.

Ethan struggled but his feet were bound. He looked down to get rid of whatever it was. Instead, there were vines of blood . . . fear fought to rise in him. He tried to reach but his hands were tied the same way. Fuck! How do I get out of this?!

He froze when the clicking sound came, the same one he heard before. Unknown curiosity drove him to look back, seeing blood dripping down a black mask with three horns. The clicking sound reverberated again, morphing into a screech . . . the roar of a monster.

He closed his eyes as the darkness swallowed him. No!

He woke up with gasps as if finally catching a breath from drowning. Ethan took a moment to check his surroundings. The masked monster and blood was gone, only trees and bushes in the horizon, he hadn't left but something was off . . . different.

The initial shock faded as he noticed he was tangled in rope attached to a parachute, strange as it was. He shook his head, scratching it. I don't have time with this. I need to get help.

He untangled himself in a hurry, searching around. A positive note that his weapons were still with him, even his camouflaged padding. The bad news is that his radio was nowhere to be found, no means of contact. He gathered everything he could, making sure he didn't leave anything behind. He ran in the direction he felt was the best chance of finding out where he was, heading for a clearing. He made it through the trees, almost falling off the edge of a cliff if his toe hadn't caught on the ground. When he gathered his composure and looked over the horizon, he realized that he was in a bad situation . . . a very bad one.

The sky was filled with more than stars, planets hovering above in such astonishing clarity. One was completely blue with small asteroids hovering while another had three rings entwined around it. Ethan had to slap his cheeks to make sure he wasn't dreaming. This isn't real. You're still dreaming. Wake up. Come on!

All of a sudden, loud noises erupted in the distance. Squinting his eyes, he saw flashes of red and white light beneath the cover of the trees. Ethan grabbed his binoculars, hoping to get a better look. Despite the attempt, he had no idea what was going on, vision obscured by leaves and branches.

He heard more screams, not human and too reminiscent of the ones in his nightmare. His heart clamped down, "Shit myself for this."

Going against his instincts, he ran with his AK-47 loaded, glad that he still carried his weapons. He slid down the cliff and ran towards the commotion but it became silent after hustling a few meters. His legs pushed faster until he stopped at the edge of the bushes, waiting for any signs of life.

After a minute of nothing, Ethan slowly emerged to find a world of chaos that was ever more than he could bear. Holy fuck . . .

Crater of cinged earth covered every visible part of the forest. His nose filled with ash and fire and something else, it didn't take long before he found out. Two bodies laid on the ground, mangled and burned beyond recognition. Ethan looked closer, realizing it wasn't human as he initially thought. It was humanoid in shape but had a kind of hard-shelled skin. Its guts were colored with some purple paint and he couldn't make the distinction of which organ he was observing, almost making him want to vomit.

I've seen a lot of shit . . . but this takes the cake and frosting on top.

A trail of more purple blood moved away, likely the body was dragged here. Ethan stalked around, gun ready to fire at the slightest movement. The trail faded and then picked up at a bush. He inhaled deeply, sensing something was in there, hiding. He had to be careful or else he might end up making a mistake, and fatal in this case.

He sucked air into his lungs, opening his mouth to give a warning. He aimed, finger rubbing gently on the trigger—

"Don't move."

Ethan froze in absolute conservation. He felt the end of a gun pressed at the back of his head, "I said don't move. Put the gun down or else you'll regret it."

Ethan placed his weapon on the ground, arms raised as he waited, nothing but silence except the constant thud of his heart pushing against his sternum.

"Turn around."

Ethan slowly followed command, realizing it was a person pointing a handgun at him, another human in military gear with dirty blonde hair. A soldier? He appeared roughed up, dirty with dried blood but focused. Another one stood a few meters away but with a sniper gun equipped with a laser point, aimed for his head. He was a brute this one, muscular. Big guy but probably with no brains.

"Who are you?"

Ethan sighed, trying to calm the storm brewing inside, "I'm Ethan Kenway, Navy Seal Sergeant of the United States."

The two soldiers lowered their weapons, eyes widened. Ethan got a clear view of their faces, both males and built like tanks that made him a bit nervous. They were armed, dangerous, and Ethan had no idea where they were and the state they were in . . . not the best to say the least.

"You're a Navy Seal?" The smaller male spoke.

Ethan nodded, lowering his arms, "From the 27th division unit. Can I ask who you are?"

The guy with the sniper came to their side, "What makes you think we will tell you?"

"Alan, easy."

Ethan stepped back, "Just trying to find out where the fuck we are. But I can guess we're in the dump if we have someone like you who has no manners."

"Why you—!"

Alan raised his sniper gun once more. Ethan acted instinctually, reaching for the knife hidden in his side pocket. If he was going to fight, then so be it.

"Alan!"

The other guy knocked the sniper gun out of Alan's hand and then threw an uppercut to his chin. Alan fell hard, groaning from the attack. "Fuck, Price. What was that for?"

"You being an idiot. We don't have the luxury to fight because he insulted what little pride you have. We got the injured to look after."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. Injured?

Price, still showing angst, got to his feet and moved around Ethan to go into the bushes. Curious, he followed with Alan watching closely and saw what he meant. There was a brown skinned female kneeling over another soldier, wounded severely. His arm was missing and his chest was scorched by a blast, trembling each time the female tended to him. From the tech wow she applied the flimsy bandage, he could tell she was an experienced nurse.

The woman sneered, "Damn it, both of you! You want to alert the enemy where we are?"

Price lowered his face, "Sorry, Grace. Alan was ticked off by our new arrival."

"No better than a brute."

Ethan watched Alan, expecting the same reaction he received. Instead, he lowered his gaze, embarrassed. Grace, on the other hand, glared with the fury of any strong woman intolerant of the male stupidity.

She calmed down as Price spoke, "How's Brad?"

He kneeled to the fallen soldier, receiving a shake from Grace, "It's not good. His wounds are severe and I don't have the necessary resources to properly take care of him."

Ethan watched as Brad groaned before his eyes rolled into the back of his head, slumped like jello to the ground. It's futile. He's too far gone. "Who are you all? Where are we anyway?"

Everyone stood silent. Ethan felt uneasiness within the group. Alan was furious and Brad was unconscious, usual reactions from first impressions but between Price and Grace, he saw confusion and worry.

"We don't know. I thought we were the only humans on this planet, other than the creatures they brought along."

"Creatures? They?"

Price nodded, "We're not the only ones here. They're fucking killing us for sport."

Ethan shook his hands, "What fucking nonsense are you saying? Killing for sport? Tell me something logical I can work with."

Alan grunted, "You wouldn't believe us even if we told you, idiot."

It took a great amount of self control not to punch this cunt in the face, couldn't afford it anyway, in a group with no answers to his questions. Plus, they looked freaked out, witnesses a murder scene earlier. From his side, he got the short end of the stick.

Price pushed Alan aside, "Ignore him.. We're glad to meet you, Ethan, but we don't have time to tell you here. We need to get Brad somewhere safe to heal. Those things are nearby and hunting us."

"Who's they?"

Price cocked his gun and then picked up the AK-47, throwing it to Ethan, "Again, we'll tell you on the way. Just keep that close and ready."

The nervousness crept into Ethan's chest, pressuring his heart to clamp. Being stuck with a group of unknown soldiers with one injured, a nurse who didn't seem like the fighting type, and one willing to kill him at the slightest provocation.

Grace was the worst; she wore her feelings on her sleeve. Her skin was bare of scars but her clothes were covered in mud, and her eyes were full of fear . . . a bad sign.

Ethan was terrified. This will not go down well.

He watched their prey waddle through the mud like animals, noticing a new one had joined, helping to pick up the injured ooman. He relished in the whimpers of the female, frightened. The big, prized one grunting, making such noises that he wished would be silenced but he kept himself back. It was no fun killing their prey immediately, leaving the wounded ooman to attract others worked perfectly. He couldn't wait to skin them, the Hunt would be so much sweeter.

"My Leader."

He sighed, still keeping his tracking device on the oomans as his second came next to him, "Bhuh'kah."

Per usual, his second bowed,

"I have the reports, Na'tou-Va."

"Give them to me."

His second cleared his throat, pressing on his gauntlet, "Wi'da and Bu'ak have finished hunting and are returning with their trophies. The rest of our party is still hunting."

"Most likely enjoying the torture." Na'tou-Va clicked, "Let them take their time. We have our own to deal with."

"Of course. I can't wait to hunt them. But we might have a problem."

Na'tou-Va growled. His tusks scraped the underside of his mask, "We always have a problem. Is it the traitor again?"

"No . . . Worse."

He turned his sights away from the ooman group. They were too far out to be in range of their weapons. Regardless, they'll find them and the Hunt will be so much enjoyable. Still, he didn't like to be bothered with this but it couldn't be helped.

Bhuh'kah lowered his head in submission as Na'tou-Va gave his attention. He smiled inwardly, the clan knew too well what would happen if they crossed him. No prey, enemy or ally is safe from his wrath. He waved his hand to give Bhuh'kah permission.

"There's other Yautja on this planet, not our own. One of our scouts barely came back alive with battle wounds. I fear that they are here to deal with us."

"And then they will." Na'tou-Va chuckled, "Just like the ones that came before. They will be dealt with soon enough. And the scout?"

"Still alive."

"Then take care of him as you see fit. We have no need for a walking corpse."

He saw the glee In Bhuh'kah's eyes, the desire for torture hung in the air. Na'tou-Va wondered if his second was more bloodthirsty than himself. But then again, he taught him everything he knew.

"Of course, my Lord."

When Bhuh'kah left, Na'tou-Va activated his heat vision, seeing the footprints the oomans left behind. The delight of anticipation burned his veins, the Hunt was all that mattered. His talons scraped over his gauntlet and pressed on the commands. His body fades into the environment, hiding himself from the rest of the world.

The Hunt was on.

Notes:

Normal = Any human speaking English (ooman language)

Bold = Any Yautja speaking English (ooman language)

Bold and Italic = Any Yautja speaking Yautja language