Chapter 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Alien/Predator series or any characters and may not follow all customs and cultures found in Alien/Predator movies.
Ethan pushed the limits of his body, fueled by the bloodbath he witnessed. What were those fucking things!? It took the enemy a matter of seconds to slaughter everyone, effective in triggering the primal instinct to survive at all costs, rendering communications to counterattack, even a squad of trained soldiers wouldn't be enough. Although Alan was a dickhead, being butchered alive was one of the worst ways to go.
He crashed through the thick bushes of the jungle, ignoring the hidden dangers, preferred more than being in the open, assuming that those beasts were trailing him.
No. More like stalking. Hunting.
He stumbled on uneven ground, his arms carved with scratches despite the padding his armor provided. Ignoring the sting and his lungs wheezing for air, Ethan kept running, his instincts commanded him not to halt even for a second. His legs crippled with exhaustion and muscles ached for rest. Despite his inner voice screaming to run, locating a hiding spot was top priority.
Ethan caught sight of a small crevice in the ground, enough to skim through. It provided protection, the hunters and their pets wouldn't reach him and he would be aware of danger long before he was spotted. He threw his guns, pieces of equipment and descended. It was tough and the sharp rocks scraped his skin.
He sighed upon reaching the bottom but his heart refused to relent, primal instincts prevented him from resting. He gripped his rifle and listened carefully. It's quiet . . . too quiet.
Remaining stock-stilled, he waited for potential danger to come but hours passed and he heard nothing, the light of day fading into the horizon. He could have sworn one of those things was following him, there was no certainty they would leave him alive after all the effort to kill him. Was it false security? Are they waiting for me to drop my guard?
Ethan was so exhausted, even his training as a rookie back in military camp was pale in comparison to this nightmare. He laid back onto the cold rock, thinking of the recent events as the rifle clattered on the ground. What do I do now? Trapped on a planet, not even knowing where in this universe. Everyone dead in a blink of an eye and now hunted by humanoid creatures ready to hang you on a stick! Fucking great!
He punched the wall, hissing in regret when his knuckles cramped and bled. He held his fist to his chest, groaning as he glanced to the sky. I need to get resources. A fire for warmth and then something to cover the crevice in case of a storm or if those things can sme—
His stomach growled. He sighed. And I need some food.
Getting to work, he waited at the edge of the crevice to check for danger. When the coast was clear, he emerged and quickly got the supplies, gathering sticks for fire, picking fallen palm leaves for camouflage and returned for the impending nightfall. Shrouding the top and stoking a fire, Ethan could relax for a temporary peace, the small drops of rain slipped through the cracks but it was welcomed. The cold and warmth mixed soothed his aching body and replaced it with renewed bolster, for a while.
He grabbed for an MRE meal, lucky that no one snatched it while being unconscious but not exactly a fancy dinner. There were two pieces of bread with peanut butter, jelly, cheese, and some yogurt, a generous sandwich could be made with a sweet tooth to add. He ate a small portion and rationed the rest for emergencies later. Despite the small comforts and his stomach full of food, his anxiety still didn't waiver, sensing something was watching, waiting for him to make a mistake.
He groaned, "Man . . . Can't I take a break?"
Ethan had a thought. Maybe for a little bit. He hesitated though, wondering if this was a good idea. It wouldn't hurt . . . just keep one ear open. He pulled out his MP3 and headphones, scrolling through the songs until one stood out. He pressed play and let the melody swirl into his mind.
Sometimes when you're doing simple things around the house
Maybe you'll think of me and smile
You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for a while
A classic song that his mother would sing when he was younger. Whenever he was down, she would stay beside him and hold him tightly. He chuckled at the memory when she said it was her own, eventually finding out that it was some singer, Warren Zevon if he remembered. Still, he imagined her voice as it soothed him, humming softly in tune.
Hold me in your thoughts, take me to your dreams
Touch me as I fall into view
Ethan hummed softly to the tune.
And when winter comes, keep the fire lit
And I will be right next to—
A low, crashing sound forced him to halt everything, growing in volume. Ethan tightened his lips when he heard screams and cries of sorrow. The darkness morphed into violent images of people running, disoriented and terrified like a stampede of wild animals.
As he looked behind, two flaming buildings stood, one crashing toward the earth in a ball of fire and cement, the ear splitting creaks from the tower signaling its fall. Firemen and police tried to stop him but he pushed them aside, his throat like dried parchment as he ran to the structure finally collapsing, shaking the ground like the fury of God's wrath.
No . . .
The dust rushed after him like a thousand hands itching to cage him. Before he realized it, he was engulfed in thick fog of ash and soot, everything disappearing before him.
NO!
Ethan gasped, ripping his headphone without pause. He watched his hand spasm and cold sweat dripped from his forehead. Fuck. It happened again.
Those hellish nightmares were at it again. He thought they were gone forever after months of therapy since 'that' day but here he was, fidgeting like a child awoke from deep sleep by monsters under the bed. Nothing has changed.
He widened his eyes upon the realization and checked through the leaves to glance at the sky. Darkness dominated, only the small light rinds of insects and stars were seen, the fire was long dead and cold. How long was I out?
He was lucky that he heard scuffling at the top when he woke up. Ethan got his rifle and pressed himself on the opposite wall, the least conspicuous to the unknown approaching. He slowed his breathing, a small struggle against his beating heart straining from fear, anxiety, and anticipation.
He heard sniffing, an animal tracking a scent. It wasn't long before he saw a shadow poking at the edge of the crevice, leaves and dirt decorated his head as they fell, a branch almost dropped on him. His hands tightened on the magazine and grip when he saw the grotesque face of the same hound from his previous encounter. They tracked me. Fuck. The beast sniffed and softly scraped at the leaves. Ethan slowly moved his fingers towards the recoil spring cam, ready to cock it.
He heard a whistle resound nearby, the hound responded with a growl of annoyance. Another set of heavy footsteps came butin a pace of something with two legs. Ethan knew the situation turned for the worst when he saw the masked, humanoid alien hunter. This is just great. I knew they would follow me and brought his canine companion as well.
The hound sat when the hunter flicked two claws and then threw a piece of meat to which the beast snapped its jaw, swallowing it whole. Ethan realized that it obeyed the will of a master, tracked down prey, and killed to the pleasure of the alien. This created an arduous complication, one that would roughly lead to certain death.
After a few agonizing moments, the hunter whistled and the hound went on its way, leaving him alone to scan for Ethan no doubt. It stepped closer with a foot at the edge, forcing him to freeze into a condensed ball. Ethan, as silently as he could, slid the spring cam into a loaded position. Despite the efficient attempt, the gun clicked, the hunter stopped and he widened his eyes at his mistake, his heart jumped and ears throbbed. Shit. He heard me.
The alien chanted his weird click and growl sounds as blades emerged from his gauntlet. Ethan almost spawned when the hunter swung on the ground, close to the entrance of his hiding spot, sparks rained down, leaving sizzled marks on his shoulders that burned with such intensity, the pain close to making him scream. Even so, his blood ran cold in dismay, close to being captured for a small mistake, the silence of the jungle calling him for his failure. Another wrong move and the game would be over and he'd receive the short end of the stick.
To his bewilderment though, the hunter walked away, his footsteps faded in the distance until it was eerily quiet. Ethan slumped slightly but didn't deter his focus. Maybe he heard something else? It was too good to be true but there wasn't time to waste finding an explanation. If that thing was here, then he has no choice but to run the fuck away, far as his legs could carry him.
He gathered everything he could carry and ascended to the top, carefully placing his fingers where there was good grip, causing little noise as possible. He waited for a few seconds before raising his eyes to scan around. Evidence of the hunter and his hound was evident, muddy footprints came from one side, cut over the crevice, and then went on toward the thick bushes, sufficient news that there was no sight of them.
He boosted his upper body for a better view. Coast is clear but better to cut into the west. There might be shelter then and hopefully—
He heard a twig snapped, unseating his handgun to aim in the direction of the noise. Again, there was nothing but his instincts were going off like alarm bells. Get back inside. Still, he waited a little longer, hoping it was nothing.
After a few minutes, it was quiet like a graveyard. Ethan shook his head, "I swear I'm going to have a heart attack if this keeps up."
He lifted his body more, "Or maybe I'm just cra—"
Ethan registered until too late as a shadow rushed at him. In reaction, he fired bullet after bullet, missed their target each time and ricocheted across the dirt. Little too late as he was met with the jagged jaws of a hound, death came to greet him.
Now, he was the rabbit about to be dragged by the fox out of its hole . . . to an excruciating and slow death.
Thank you for all the support from everyone! Things are about to get interesting and might turn into another bloodbath of great proportion. Who knows? Hehehe . . .
More to come! Enjoy and hope to hear from all of you. ;)
Song - "Keep Me In Your Heart" by Warren Zevon