Chapter 6

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

The hound came so fast that its jaws were clamped hard around Ethan's forearm before he could pull his handgun to fire. It seemed more vicious this time, shaking its head in an attempt to pull him out of the crevice. The pain was unbearable; burning needles ripped his skin and pulled his muscles apart. He felt a thick blanket of wet warmth already soaking in his shirt. If he didn't get out of this quickly, he was going to die of blood loss.

"Fuck you!"

Ethan shot several bullets when he twisted his arm for a better aim. He riddled the hound with bullets to the chest. That should have killed it. Nothing survives with a zero-point range at a vital organ.

But to his shock, the hound still kept gnawing. In fact, it only agitated it even more. Its claws began to scrape off the rocks from the edges, creating a wider hole to in an attempt to get Ethan out. He was losing valuable time. Death was going to come; either being eaten, blood loss, or something worse. He hated to think of the unknown.

Again, he gave out more shots and the bullets went through the beast and it still didn't relent. The hound tugged, sending a wave of excruciating pain within him. By this time, Ethan was halfway out of the crevice. His head was throbbing, and his sight was blurring. He was losing time.

Just when things couldn't get worse, another hound bursted from the bushes and raced to them, no doubt to tear him apart. Drool covered the ground behind it, glistening its teeth. Fuck. Now what?!

He needed to think . . . fast.

Ethan pointed the gun towards the charging hound, aimed for its legs and fired. The bullet hit its mark, right at the joint of the elbow. Given the prior attempts, he didn't have confidence it would work but to his luck, the hound fell face first when its joint shattered. The momentum of its fall carried it to crash with the other hound. Ethan was freed but at the cost of his arm's flesh, leaving a huge gap of exposed muscle and veins.

Ignoring the sting and ache, Ethan tried to slip back into the crevice while the hounds fought to break free of themselves. Going out there would be suicide. He wiggled halfway down when the hounds finally were freed. The injuried one whined, holding the leg that was shot but the other one was pissed off even more. It turned its sights on Ethan and snapped like an angry alligator before charging.

Shit!

He fastened his pace, minutes felt like seconds too short for him. The hound was only a few feet away and he only had his injured arm left to get. But when he tried to move in a hurry, he got stuck between the cracks halfway inside. He yelled, frustrated. Just my luck!

He had to think fast. The hound was coming like a hurricane and if he got caught again, he was done for.

He wiggled and thrashed as hard as he could, his skin burned and itched at the little progress he'd made. The hound lunged, claws reaching for its prize. Ethan needed to give one last push, using the rest of his energy to safety.

In defiance and pain, Ethan screamed.

The hound's jaws barely missed clamping around Ethan's head when he finally slipped free and back into the crevice. He landed hard and on his injured arm no less. It sent jolts of pain all over his body and he grunted, trying not to scream. Rocks fell on him as the hound desperately ripped the opening of the crevice. He spit towards its general direction. "Go away, you fucking cunt!"

As much as he wanted to fill it with lead, it would be a waste of bullets. He lost too many and he had limited rifle ones that he wanted to reserve for later. From what he witnessed in a mere few hours, there were bigger predators out there. He thought best to wait until the hound lost interest.

But then, a whistle called out. The hound stopped and left so suddenly that left Ethan confused. Unless it's—

The same humanoid figure emerged, looking down with its faceless mask and dreadlocks that acted like a dark curtain. It was daunting and a bit frightening. Ethan reached for his rifle, ignoring the sting in his arm when he pointed it at the figure. It just stared at him, tilting its head. For some reason, it sent chills down his spine.

And then . . . he heard a voice, sounded more like from a computer.

"Let's drag the rat out of its nest."

Ethan paused. Is that . . . Alan's voice?

The next thing he knew, a blue orb shot at him from its shoulder. Ethan reacted instinctively, rolling to the side just in time as the blast exploded, sending rubble everywhere followed by an unbearable heat. He turned to see a crater was now right next to him.

Fucking hell! It's got a plasma gun!

More shots fired at him. He was surprised he wasn't shot or even dead. But if he didn't get out of there, he was about to.

Ethan saw a way; the crevice stretched to the other side, away from the danger he was in and up a bankment towards freedom. He didn't think twice and crawled towards freedom, all while avoiding the bombardment of explosion and heat. Whatever the being wanted with him, it was determined to flush him out.

He made it to the edge and took a peek, seeing the figure was still firing where he was originally. Now's my chance. Ethan took off, heading into the thick bushes of the jungle.

But a blast exploded in front, forcing Ethan to skid to a stop. Scorched earth and burning trees blocked his escape. He turned around to find another exit, only to meet with a hound stalking him and the hunter coming closer. If he tried to run again, there was a guarantee he would be killed on the spot.

He was out of options . . . except for one.

Ethan watched the hunter mostly. He was in command and the one to ultimately decide his fate. The wounded hound he shot earlier hopped to his master's side, whimpering. With the metal mask, he couldn't see its face but the body said it all. The hunter showed little sympathy, almost ignoring the hound's pleas by turning away. When it tried to press against his leg, the hunter kicked it, and then did something unexpected for Ethan.

The hunter aimed the gun on its shoulder and blasted it. The hound was surely dead; searing hunk of flesh was what remained with its head blown to bits with only the bottom jaw remaining.

So much for mercy and negotiation. How can it be possible? Ethan saw this thing and others kill an entire group of human soldiers with such bloodlust. To think that there could be any understanding between them was beyond capacity. To this thing, it was either fight or die.

He pointed his rifle at the hound, aimed for the head if it tried to attack. If I'm going down, then I'll take them with me.

But the hunter had other ideas. Ethan heard it clicking and growling, some sort of communication, and the hound backed up. It growled in frustration but ultimately stood behind the hunter.

Now, it was only him and the hunter.

He kept tense as the hunter came closer, almost deliberately walking slowly, until only a few feet of distance was between them. After that, there was silence.

Ethan could hear his heartbeat. The breeze rattling the leaves in the trees. The tension was so thick that it felt like his muscles were turning into stone. Still, he had to stay focused. The hunter titled his head, almost in observation, before he heard it speak.

"No better than a brute."

He heard it again. Alan's voice! It was like a recording from when he first met Price and others. It sent chills up his spine. If it had that, then it was watching us.

Then, it started to laugh; a maniacal laugh of a human. It wasn't like anything he'd ever heard. Ethan realized it was teasing him, trying to get a reaction. Psychotic asshole.

"Die, you bastard!"

Again, it laughed. Ethan didn't know what to make of this. He was losing his patience but that's what it probably wanted. He wasn't going to give it the satisfaction. If he was going to die, he's going down fighting.

When he cocked his rifle, the hunter pulled out two blades that protruded from its gauntlet. They looked like knives for carving. He wondered if it was used more than on the typical livestock; for himself, no less.

Want to fight? So be it.

Ethan gripped the rifle, gathered all of his courage, and screamed before charging at the enemy. All his anger channeled at this hunter. Many would think he's suicidal. But with nothing to lose, this is all he had.

The hunter didn't move as he ran closer. It seemed unconventional. It's like he's waiting for—

He suddenly flew in the air. Something had wrapped around his ankle and tugged him high, losing the hold of his rifle. The next thing he knew, he was strung up like a chicken, ready to be butchered.

Fucking shit. I fell into a trap. What an idiot.

The hunter laughed again, walking closer to an upside-down Ethan. It clicked its nonsense language before it grabbed his chin with reptilian claws. It forced Ethan to turn his head like he was a prized possession. He tried to resist but little could be done. The hunter stepped back and chuckled in an inhuman way.

"M-di h'dlak, Pyode amedha. B'ide s'yuit-de."

He didn't understand but he could tell that it was an insult. Ethan gathered all the liquid in his mouth and spit right in the middle of its mask.

"Fuck you."

The hunter hissed, growling in pure animosity. Good.

It raised its blades, ready to give the final blow. Ethan was prepared; if this is how it was going to end, then he'll make sure to give Hell before leaving this plane. He waited, heart pounding as the hunter prepared to kill him. The hound snarled and barked in anticipation.

This is it. This is the end.

But everything changed in a second as he watched the hunter suddenly fall to the ground with an arrow through its shoulder and a bigger form rising above, blades as deadly as the first hunter, stuck down like the fury of a monster.

Thank you for the support from everyone! I hope I hear from all of you soon, including Anonymous-E for future updates on sequel. Good Hunting!

M-di h'dlak, Pyode amedha. B'ide s'yuit-de = Nice try, Soft Meat. But stupid.

Normal = humans speaking human language

Bold = Yautja speaking ooman (or using translator)

Bold and Italics = Yautja speaking yautja language