Jennifer's Diary.

May 15, 2621.

Today is my birthday. It's not so special for me any more, sure birthdays are fun and all, and given I have negligible senescence, which means I can't age past my maturity, I still don't consider getting older to be something of special significance. We all grow older all the time, I just can't show it. But no what really made Today fun out of every other birthday in my life was that this was the first one I spent with my husband ,Jon. Truthfully I have no clue as to how lucky I really am to have married such a person as him. Sure he's intimidating, has a face that looks like what happened if a human merged with a crab, and is strong enough to kill anyone with just a swift and easy motion. But unlike most other Yautja, he hasn't. Considering everything we humans have done to him, he's been very kind, merciful, and easy to us all... well most of us anyway. Still he hasn't killed anybody, which I'm honestly glad for. Had daddy been right about Jon, I'd still hate him. But I was still technically only a child, still am.

I guess whoever has found this and does read from it to the end, will still be wondering why I'm going through the trouble of writing this. Even while the podcaster ,Elliot, is interviewing our story. To that I answer this; I want to give as much personal info as to what we were going through when we went through those two years. What I felt. What I guessed Jon may have felt. Had I still been where I was at before I met him, I suppose I might have still hated the Yautja, the Marines, Hell I think I may have ended up like Dad. I don't like that thought, nor what he did to so many people over his wild obsession with the Xenomorph XX121 species, or "Shadows" as Jon likes to call them. I just want to clarify I don't hate my father., I still love him. Although it does make me wonder sometimes during sleepless nights whether he loved me because I was his daughter, or if he just loved me because I am part Xenomorph; that I was his first successful test project. I don't know. I like to believe he loved me because I was his daughter, but there's always that thought that if I wasn't a success, that I wasn't part of the "perfect organism" that I am...

I don't see how a man like my father could be so infatuated with those creatures, enough to love them... Merciful Master Jesus! At least I'm not my father, and I should consider myself the luckiest woman on KJ147 if not the entire world that a man of his reputation had the sense to love me at all, to give me everything I wanted as a child, to be lucky to have found the man who'd change all of that and give me something even better to.

Jon is an enigma he really is. Without him, I don't know what kind of tailspins I'd be in right now. He's saved my life and countless others so many times. He's taken good care of me, unlike what alot of other humans would. He's shown me to God. And he's even loved me at times when I did not even deserve it. Yes I have no understanding just how fortunate to have him not only married to me, but also sealed (Christian sealment involves a married couple becoming sealed together forever, even after death, when they have received endowment in a temple. Couples are also capable of being sealed at the time of marriage inside the temple.) to me. Of course I didn't think that when I first met him.

No, looking back on it now I was not the best person to be around in an uncomfortable situation. I was bratty, whiney, and just overall a little btch. Fortunately for me, Jon he was merciful enough not to just decapitate me the minute I began causing problems for him, and that he intimidated me enough to keep me from going rogue on him.

I woke up some time in the evening, after I'd busted my head up against that rock, tied up to a log. I was thankful to be alive, but I had no idea what Jon had wanted to do with me, if he even wanted to do anything to me at all. I was situated next to a warm fire he'd prepared. Had I not seen him roasting a Brear-hog leg over the fire I'd probably thought I was his dinner. Then again why did he save me though, which I was wondering about in my sore, aching head. It was July, and around that time things start to get cold during the evenings. For anyone who hasn't lived on KJ147 before, you should know that although this planet is a humid tropical paradise, and a humid desert haven, things get chilly in the evenings especially around July through December. So you can imagine how glad I was to be tied so closely to the fire as I was. I was also in my undergarments at the time to so yeah I didn'thave much for insulation either. Jon was leisurely minding his business tending to his hog leg, before I asked him if he could cut me down. He didn't budge a muscle at first, probably since he was to occupied to help, or that I hadn't said please yet. The second time I did ask (including please) he stopped and walked over to unbind me. He didn't make a sound other than what I guessed what an irritated, clicky growl from his mandibles echoing out his mask. At first it looked pretty funny with the Marshmello smiley face-painted onto it, but now that I was actually incapable of moving, I was terrified by it. He looked like a 80s horror movie slasher with it on. And I thought that was what he was going to do as he opened his bladed wrist gauntlet. I began begging, almost crying, for him to not kill me. That probably irritated him more than my request. He gently sliced the vines he'd tied me with, and I fell clumsily to the ground, which caused my already hurting head to ache even more.

He locked his wrist blades back, and after giving me a small look, and another clicky growl, he returned to his business. Silence fell over the both of us again as I watched him carve the hog leg. I noticed a tattoo drawn onto his right arm that I hadn't seen before. It was the Yautja's symbol of a Xenomorph, with their triangular dotted targeting lasers lined up on it. The same as the symbol on the forehead of his mask. I was obviously terrified, yet at the same time awestruck by his presence and his physicality, and even a little curious about him. Although I'm pretty sure he didn't think the same of me.

When I did work up the courage to say something to him again, I received another suprise. I went to thank him for letting me down, and he replied ,"You're Welcome." He spoke in a perfect, almost human like accent, although I was more impressed by his ability to speak English. Although given his leg wear, tattoo, and the Marshmello smiley face on his bio-mask, I should have suspected he could understand and speak English.

"You can speak English?" I asked him. Judging by the look and smart-assed clicking he gave me, I should've probably asked something a little smarter than that. I began inquiring more questions; "You're a Marine?" "Who are you?" "How did you become a marine?" I asked. All of my questions went unanswered. My stomach was growling, telling me I had bigger things to worry about than asking the Yautja questions. Without even needing to ask, he took his machete and carved off a piece of the hog leg he prepared. I am mostly a vegetarian, so you could understand my reaction when I was given a piece of meat. I asked Jon if he had any plant-based food. He looked back at me and began clicking his mandibles, as if he was saying, "You seriously just asked me that question?! After what I did to prepare that for you?!" I took the hint immediately and began eating. That seemed to calm him down. After letting his portion of the leg roast for a few seconds he left the fire and ate on a rock situated a couple paces away with his back turned to me. I guess he didn't want me to see him eating or to see his face, even though I and many other colonists knew who these guys looked like with the mask off. Plus given how much I disgusted eating the hog leg, I'd probably lose my entire intestinal tract if I saw his crab-like face consume that hog leg.

After the disgusting meal, which I honestly should have also been thankful to have received, he returned to the warmth of the fire. I tried to begin a conversation with him to try and release some tension off myself. All he did was ignore me, and stare into the fire. He looked like he was enjoying the silence of everything else going on, apart from my futile chatter. I just gave up after I realized that. After some time past stupidly staring at nothing but the fire and my savior, he killed the flames. I was enveloped in the darkness of the night, and it's freezing temperature. I couldn't see anything. I wasn't scared, at least not by the pitch black darkness. But given the possibility that there were xenomorphs around I was a little uneasy.

I began calling for the Predator, and I was quickly met with a sleeping bag wrapped around my shoulders, and a flashlight beam. He urged me to follow him, and he took me to a tent he'd also prepared. "Go in," he said, "It's to small for me." I did as he told me to, graciously replying thank you as I went in. "Take this to," he said handing me the flashlight. Once again I said thank you to him. Again he replied, "You're Welcome."

Even though I may have not have liked him at first he was still pretty polite and considerate. I watched him situate himself on a boulder just big enough for him to lay his body down on, and sleep on that. You could also guess how thankful I was for Jon's generosity, giving me a warm, and semi comfortable place to sleep instead of snoozing on a cold, hard rock. Although I was thankful for the things he'd given me thus far, I was also taking it all for granted.

The next day I learned a few hard lessons. One was being more grateful, than just taking things for granted as they were and saying thank you.

The next morning-just before the sun was even above the horizon, I received a wake up call from Jon. Irritated by the disturbance, I obediently got up. He wanted his stuff back just in case he needed it for his mission. He asked me if there was anything else I needed before we parted. I asked him if he could take me home. He replied that he couldn't, explaining that his mission was urgent, that he had to kill some escaped Xenomorphs, or "Shadows", before they breed to uncontrollable numbers. "Couldn't you just, you know take me home first, then go do your mission?" I asked.

"Sorry, no can do. Every second I spend not tracking them down, the further they come to establishing a new hive." He explained.

"But what about..." I was going to finish my question before he handed me a handheld GPS. He told me I could keep it, but I protested saying that there were Xenomorphs out in the jungle, and that I needed his protection.

He clicked his mandibles and stated that lives were on the line. I persisted with complaining though giving one stupid excuse after another, before he finally told me, "If you're to afraid to go home by yourself than you're welcome to join me." Suddenly the idea of going home myself wasn't so bad since the probability of running into a Xeno while going home, was just a possibility. This would guarantee I'd run into one. But I persisted. Finally out of mild frustration he told me that I could either go home by myself or help him with his mission and he would return me home unharmed. He even made it a promise. I wasn't going to comply with either. "Suit yourself then, I've done as much as I can, but I need to go," He told me.

"You can't just leave me here!" I told him. He made no response and simply walked off into the jungle. After a few startling seconds I begrudgingly took the safest possible option I could think of at the time, and decided to follow him.

"Alright wise guy I'll help you, but you'd better bring me home safely got it? deal?!" I said in a bratty tone.

"Promise." he said not giving me a second glance.

"And I swear if anything happens to me, so help me, I'll..." I would have finished my threat had he not scared me into submission. He swiftly swung his arm just above my head. I heard his wristblades open with a metallic slice as he imbedded them into the side of a tree. His expression was blocked by his stupid looking mask, which I was to scared to laugh at now. I was about to say something harsh, but he cut me off.

"You've made your decision, and I understand your point clearly, and I've made my promise, which I intend to keep. If you decide you'd rather go home alone, than be my guest, but I've got more important things to worry about, like the colonies I'm trying to protect. You may be Weyland's daughter, but you do not own me, and don't think for a second you father does either!"

"Yes we do own you! and number two since when have you marines protected anything!" that comment did not yield a positive response. He yanked his wristblades out of the tree and roared kind of softly in my face. I shrank submissively to his feet holding my ears from the noise.

Once he was over and I removed my hands from my ears, he told me not to threaten him again. I didn't reply and simply looked at him with a look only a bratty toddler would give their parents after they refused them. Jon didn't seem to care.

For the next five excruciating hours I trudged with him through the humid wetlands. Each step became more tiring than the next, as Jon made me pull some of the weight off his backpack. Jon, although, showed no signs of fatigue, except for whenever he had to slow down for me to catchup, or to slow down and check the trail for tracks. Jon is a very skilled and patient hunter; whenever he's hunting after something he is careful, checks for details whenever he notices them, and takes his time with putting pieces together when on the trail. I could see him pawing the ground with his claws, checking the diameter of the claw and toe prints. He also checked for signs in the trees, and maybe a rock if they were visible enough, just to see if we were walking into an ambush or if any of them had separated. Thankfully, for everyone-or at least for him I thought at the time-they were continuing in one direction.

I didn't care for any of his tracker nonsense at the time and was just hoping he'd get this over with quickly so he could bring me home. I thought and even mouthed some idle insults about him. I'm pretty sure he knew that I was doing it, but just didn't care. We followed the trail for a couple more hours before Jon told me to stop. I accidentally dropped the camping gear he assigned me to carry, and began throwing a fit. Jon told me to be quiet, but I kept being antagonistic with him. Little did I realize he had noticed something I hadn't. I didn't care enough to listen to his warnings. He'd noticed that the area had gotten quiet, and he'd found the bloody remains of several animal carcasses. How I didn't see or smell them before I had no idea. Guess I was too distracted by my thoughts, and we must have been upwind from where the wind was blowing the stench. The corpses were fresh, very fresh, couldn't have been more than an hour since it'd happened. When I finally did look at what he saw, I screamed, and gagged. The sight was to disgusting for words to even describe. Jon wasn't exactly comfortable with the setting either, but he had the sense to remain calm, and quiet. He wasn't trying to be sneaky, he knew they were close, very close; and that they knew we were here. He serveyed our surroundings carefully. He cautiously grasped his machete, and drew it from it's sheath. The thing was bigger than I'd remembered it was. From my perspective the thing looked like a sword, although given his size, it'd make sense that his machete was as big as it was.

I began to plead with him, telling him that we needed to get out of here. He made a short irritated growl, although I could tell it wasn't directed at me, at least not completely. "Perfect ,Kj, you bring a combat derelict into a bug hunt with no armor, weapons or any training. Brilliant idea! Idiot!" I heard him whisper. Jon saw an area I could take cover in and told me to wait there. I wasn't going to leave him, at least not yet anyway. Again he whispered for me to go, and again I disobeyed him.

The silence was getting to me, and it made my gut chern worse than the sight of those poor dead animals. My mind went wild, my senses became clouded with fear and paranoia. "There behind us! Infront of us! Beside us!" I thought as sweat began streaming down every orifice of my body. "Please let's get out of here!" I begged.

"No, don't run that's what they want. Just get to that crack over there and stay quiet." Jon ordered me again. "Take this." He whispered handing me his Smith and Wesson 4506, "It's fully loaded. Aim for their heads if you can." I didn't know how to use a gun, I'd never had any proper training with any type of firearm in my life. That's not to say I've never shot a gun before, It's just I was a little desperate at the time, to learn anything from the experience. I mentioned this to Jon, but he told me to take it anyway, and I did. He told me to go a fourth time, assuring me it'd be alright, and that briefly made me comply. Although, like said, I didn't know anything about handling or using firearms, other than pull the trigger and the bullet comes out. I foolishly kept my finger on the trigger of the 4506 and was grasping it a little to firmly. My hands suddenly jerked back as three .45 ACP cartridges came zooming out of the barrel as loud explosive cracks rippled through the air. That got their attention.

The Xenomorphs came flying out of the trees towards us. Had I listened I probably wouldn't have had to learn another hard lesson about obedience to experience. I threw the gun away, and booked it out of there. Jon cursed something in his native Yautja language before opening up on the creatures.

I ran as quickly as I could from Jon and the Xenomorphs. I'd let my fear take hold of myself and given the Xenomorphs what they wanted. A sign of weakness. I hadn't seen that. Jon had though, and he showed no weakness as he fought back. Most of the Xenomorphs were distracted by him, but a few others had held back to weed out the weakest threat, me. I didn't make it to far before two of them stopped me. One pouncing out in front of me, while the other took me from the side, and pinned me down. Once again I was facing death right in the eyes, or lack thereof. The creatures slimey tongue drooled over my face as it prepared to head bite me. Luck was still on my side though, as Jon's machete came spinning through the air, hitting the xeno in the head. The creature made a painful elephant noise, before being riddled with a barrage of .45 ACP. The other xeno saw this, and quickly pounced at Jon. Unfortunately it didn't understand who it was going up against, as he eviscerated it with one swift motion with his bladed wrist gauntlet. He pulled the machete out of the other dead alien, before turning his attention towards me.

"That was stupid! Very very stupid!" he began chastising me. Another xeno came through the air at him, but he reacted quickly enough and sliced the creature's torso open with the machete. Before he could continue chewing me out for my disobedience and stupidity, we herd the sound of trees being shaken, and the faint noise of powerful foot steps echoing through the canopy. Jon lept into the trees, and climbed until he got a good view of the treeline. He saw the trees rocking back and forth. "They're a couple miles away from here. C'mon let's go!" He proclaimed excitedly as he began leaping from tree to tree after them. The Yautja is a very acrobatic individual, because he wasn't just bouncing from branch to branch, but he was soaring through them with near perfect grace and speed. I was suprised I managed to even catch up to him as quickly as I was able to.

After exhausting myself from chasing after him, I came across a confusing sight. There were no Xenomorphs. Jon had been right on them. How could he have lost them? I could tell through his masked face Jon was confused too. "Wha-the? How-a-t-th? Wher-?" I could here him stutter as his voice vibrated metallicly through his bio-mask. The prints we'd followed had simply disappeared. Jon lept back into the trees, and serveyed the treeline once more.

Jon expelled an inhumanly aggressive roar, that told me he'd lost them. I could hear his voice echo through the bio-mask as he mumbled all sorts of vulgar curses. I didn't bother to say anything, and I could tell by the brief look he gave me, that he was not happy. We retrieved what equipment we'd discarded in the chase. After that I suddenly remembered the bracelet Dad have given me, which I began trying to use to make contact with him. Jon saw it and took it from me forcefully, trying to connect with the Task Force's radio frequency. After a couple of attempts, we learned the thing had been broken in the skirmish earlier.

"FCK AN A!" Jon roared throwing the bracelet on the ground. Jon went nuts punching a small swagmarwood tree with his bare hands until his knuckles began bleeding out florescent green slime.

"Well what now?" I asked smartly. Jon roared as a response. I began to argue with him again as he took my bracelet.

"Hey! That's mine!" I told him.

"NOW IT'S MINE!" he bellowed at me. I shrank back as he worked out the rest of his aggression.

After retracing the trail countless times, Jon gave up, and we set up camp a few miles away. Needless to say that night wasn't as passive as the night before. I should mention Jon was the one setting up camp while I sat warm and snug by the fire. Of course he got back at me by not giving me any of our rations besides water; that really pissed me off bad. Our night was mostly spent in awkward silence, where we just sneered angrily at each other. Once again I must admit I was a bratty little btch. Jon was setting up some traps around the camp. I could give the guy credit for readiness, although I still hated his guts.

I made the mistake of asking for rations, and as a response he just growled at me. I asked again, this time trying to come off with more authority. He just growled louder. Then I threw a rock at his head, and it all went to hell.

"What the fck!" he bellowed.

"Uh, I'm hungry asshole!" I retaliated.

"I know, and maybe had you listened to me earlier I wouldn't have spared your rations!"

I ended up trying to steal some instead, but he caught me before I could even find them. He snatched the bag away and told me I'd lost the next mornings rations. "Fck you!" I erupted angrily at him. He didn't care about my insult so instead I chucked another rock at him. That time he caught it and threw it back hitting me in the arm.

"Asshole!" I whispered holding my arm. "Bad enough he's a Yautja, but the ugly mother fker is also a good-for-nothing marine!" Yes I was one of the many people who also believed Dad's lies about the marines.

"What did you just say?" That got his full attention, enough so that he broke a line from the net he was weaving together for another one of his traps.

"You know what I said! It's bad enough you're a Predator, but you also just had to be a marine, a useless good-for-nothing Colonial Marine!" I roared at him. I'm glad he didn't take my head off after I said that. Instead he took his frustration out on a log, hacking it to splinters with his machete. "And you're a temper tantrum too!" I was testing fate far worse than I should have.

Jon approached me with the machete and imbedded it inside a tree next to me. "Go ahead roar do whatever you're gonna do! You're just proving my point! Go ahead I dare you!" I exploded. He roared as he swung his fist into the tree. popping open his knuckles again. I believe he did that just to keep from doing that to me.

"Lord give me patience... Dear Merciful Heavenly Father, give me patience." Jon said trying to calm himself down.

"What in the name of God is your problem?!" I asked. He just kept breathing slowly trying to keep his temper from boiling over on me.

"Don't you ever take the Lord's name in vain like that again! and don't you dare think about disrespecting the marines! EVER! YOU HEAR ME?!" Jon proclaimed.

I just continued to push him further. "No!"

"Fine!" Jon said before he began packing everything and leaving me behind.

"Where are you going?!" I asked.

"To do my job!" he replied.

"You can't just leave me here!" I foolishly told him a second time. But like before he gave no response and simply began walking off without me. "Hey get back here! I need you!" he continued to ignore me. "Fine go ahead and leave. You're just like all the other marines on this planet! Stupid, useless, and selfish problematic burdens!" That comment did make him come back, and it sure pissed him off something good. "Go ahead do whatever you're going to do, you ungrateful..."

"Who are you to talk about gratitude?! Who are you to call me selfish?! Who are you to throw any of those remarks in our faces?!" he refered to himself and the marines. "After everything we've done for you're sorry, ungrateful, useless good-for-nothing, selfish asses!"

"Oh I'm the one that's ungrateful?!" I interjected trying to fight back.

"Yes you!"

"Really after everything my Dad and I have done for you unless gun monkeys! You should all be down on your knees thanking us for..." I was about to finish that statement before he began showing me signs of things that weren't to releaving to see or hear.

"FOR WHAT?! THIS?!" Jon showed me his throat, which I could see well enough from the light coming off of the fire behind us.

"Gills?"

"YEAH AND GUESS WHO GAVE EM TO ME?! GOOD OLD CHARLES BISHOP WEYLAND! AND DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHEN HE DID THIS TO ME?! WHEN I WAS ONLY A DAY OLD! RIGHT AFTER I CAME OUT THE FCKING WOMB! YEAH THAT'S WHAT YOUR DAD DID TO ME! AND IT HURT LIKE HELL TOO! WANT TO KNOW WHAT ELSE HE DID?! THIS!" he stripped off his armor, and fishnet mesh to reveal several scars and slashes running up and down his body on all sides. "THOSE WERE FROM HIS PRECIOUS PET MONSTERS HE KEEPS LOCKED AWAY! I HAD TO ENDURE THROUGH ALL OF THIS JUST TO PROTECT YOU AND EVERY OTHER UNGRATEFUL, STUPID, TIGHTASSED, NARROW-MINDED, SELFISH, NAIVE COLONISTS EVERYTIME THEY ESCAPED! ALL OF IT! ALL OF THIS IS ON YOUR DAD! YOU THINK HE CARES ABOUT ANY OF THEM?! THINK AGAIN!"

"No! No you're lying none of this is true!" I hollered back.

"Were you there when it all happened?" That was the question that destroyed my part of the argument. "Were you there when he imprisoned me and my mother, and treated as nothing more than science projects? Were you there when one of his precious shadows killed my mother? Were you there when he had his guys beat the sht out of me when I was only seven because Mom trashed his prescious laboratory, and all that invaluable tech from my clan? Were you even alive then?!" he asked me aggressively holding up a picture of him and his mother. "How about this? Were you there when your dad sent over a hundred thousand marines on a suicide mission, trying to save a colony that he'd already been taken over by his shadows, that he purposefully planted there just to fck us all?! Did you have to watch as your entire platoon, and hundreds of other guys around you get picked off, while also watching your closest friends who you loved like siblings get killed in the most horrifying and brutal ways you could imagine, and then have to live through it all feeling guilty because they died and you didn't, and have to be constantly reminded of it everytime you have an episode of PTSD, because who won't have all that after living through that?! Where were you when all of that happened?" At that point I was at his mercy in the argument.

"But how-? Dad-? H-He couldn't have..."

"He did! And for you to call me ungrateful and selfish... for you to throw my friends ,who I loved like family, for you to throw their sacrifice, and their names in the mud like that after everything they gave for you, after what every marine who died for you and so many others gave is just cruel, disrespectful, and dishonorable! And I'm not even talking about myself when I mention them!" He pulled another photo out, this one of four marines, three handsome men, and one beautiful woman. Those were the friends he was referring to, the ones he saw as his brothers and sister. "Tell them where you were when they died. Tell them what you thought when they sacrificed everything they had for you, so you wouldn't have to face the same things they did. Tell them that. Tell a marine the next time you see one who doesn't have a crab-like face who has nothing left to lose." That was the killing blow right there. He was right. Where had I been when this all happened? Not that that was my fault, but still, what did I think of the marines? Were they truely what I thought Dad made them out to be. Had Dad truely been lying to me this whole time? I didn't know. How could I have? I wasn't there. But Jon was, and he was talking from experience.

Jon saw the look of uncertainty written on my face after he told me that. "You know, Your Dad should be lucky I didn't come after him when Mom died! You and he should be lucky I didn't come after either of you after what he did to me and so many others at Crimer's Ridge! You should be grateful for me saving you, twice! and being kind enough to take care of you as I have after putting up with so much of your sht! Hell you should be down on your knees thanking God, Jesus, and the promise I made to them, never to kill a single human being, that I don't kill you right where you stand after everything you and your dad have put me through!" I shrank as he towered over me. "Consider yourself fortunate also that I made a promise to you, cause I keep my promises, even when nobody else I make them with keeps them! Just think about all of that while you rest your pretty little tail inside my warm sleeping bag tonight."

With that all over with he returned to the camp fire, set up all of his traps, gave me the rations I requested, and let me sleep inside his tent. Again he rested outside in the cold on a hard boulder. I spent most of the night thinking about what he said, wondering just how much of it was true. From how he spoke Dad must have done something wrong to him, but then again he was just a Yautja, I thought to myself at the time. Still he had been selfless, generous, and very very easy with me, while I had been nothing more than extra weight to him. Plus the Xenomorphs were very dangerous creatures, and unless he did something stop them they'd take over and destroy the planet, but more importantly millions upon billions of peoples lives would be at stake. How could I be so foolish, so selfish to have overlooked this? Still that didn't mean that what he'd said was true, about what Dad did to him. Although the question Jon had asked earlier stayed with me each time I thought about that. "Were you there when it all happened?" No I wasn't. Still just because he's wrong didn't mean he was right. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt until I could prove otherwise.

The next two days went by relatively peacefully. I did everything I was told to do, and we remained completely silent with each other. On the fourth night though, I began to see evidence of how right he was. I heard him watching a recorded video feed on his bio-mask, he began flipping through the footage looking at some of his better moments with his loved ones. I could hear him crying softly as he watched the recorded memories began reminding him of times that had been much nicer to him than now. I finally understood his pain, why he was so bitter as he was. He had experienced things I never could've imagined happening to myself and my loved ones. This whole time I'd seen only a hideous creature, when in reality he was more human than I could even give most other humans, including myself credit for. He was just a misunderstood being trying to do what he had to do, because he felt it was right, not because it was his obligation or his responsibility to. In fact after what my dad did to him I'd say it was the exact opposite. But Jon still did it.

The next night I received another sign of just how badly he was damaged. I awoke to the sound of him grunting and roaring. He was having an episode, a bad one. He was writhing, punching, swipping, clawing, and hissing like he was being attacked, like how an animal would react when it feels threatened. I watched him fearfully from the safety of the tent as his episode continued. He gained consciousness shortly afterward, he took the 4506 out of his belt holster and looked at it very intently. I could tell what was running through his head at the time. I almost ran out to stop him, but I didn't have to. I watched him drop the gun, weakly drop to his knees and remove his mask reverently as he began to pray. "God please give me strength. Please, just enough to at least let me finish what you need me to do. Then please, let me go in peace, please." I could here him tearfully say, almost begging like a scared child. I wasn't one who believed in religion at the time, but I could tell when someone was desperate for something enough to beg God for it. What if all he needed was a friend, somebody he could turn to. No I couldn't he wouldn't want that especially from me. I thought. Still it would help if I was just a little more reasonable than I had been. Maybe it would help. I'd always wanted to help out, and I could tell he needed it. I had made a promise just the same as he had, it was about damn time I began living up to it.

This chapter is a little different from the rest as you guys could tell since it's focused on Jennifer's perspective about what happened when she first met Kjon. The reason why I went with this is because the first time I tried using the regular interview method it was very cringe. I didn't know how to make the characters properly convey their emotions in front of a stranger asking them questions. Kind of awkward, right? I hope you guys enjoyed it though. And I'll start the next chapter as soon as possible.