Hunter: Growing Up

Over the next few years as I grew up, Hunter taught me many things. Predominantly he taught me the skilled art of fighting and killing so perfected by his race. He also taught me how to behave in Predator society. Very quickly I learned that I was the lowest of the low and had to be submissive to all others. I learned the best policy was to keep quiet, keep your head down, keep still, and do what ever you're told. That was my position.

However, Hunter was never cruel to me. In fact he treated me like a pet of sorts. I never wanted for food, shelter, or even praise. I was so obedient and quick to learn Hunter rarely had to punish me. Punishment for me was never very severe when I was young. Hunter never struck me (probably because he could easily knock my head off if he did!) but he wasn't above knocking my legs out from under me as the Elder had done. It hurt sometimes and it definitely humiliated me but it was extremely mild compared to what he was capable of doing. Usually I was punished for stepping out of line or not showing the proper respect toward him or other Predators. But all in all, my chastisement occurred rarely.

Hunter was the most skilled warrior in the clan from what I could tell. His experience made it his responsibility to teach the younger Predators. His "curriculum", if you will, involved fighting and hunting techniques, weaponry perfection, survival/first aid, and most importantly how to stalk, kill, and dismember prey. All Predators were fighters and killers from the start, but they needed an experienced warrior who'd seen many years of hunting and combat to fine-tune their skills so one day they too would become warriors.

One of my purposes to Hunter was to be a 'guinea pig' to demonstrate several aspects of hunting humans. Most of the young Predators had never seen a live human before and I happened to be the only one on the planet. I recall distinctly the first time when Hunter presented me to the younger Predators.

I believe I'd been with Hunter for about a year, which made me around seven or eight years old. (I couldn't really remember since birthdays were forgotten to me on the Predator world.) One morning he woke me up and commanded me to follow him. Supposing he'd present me with some kind of task for the day, I donned the furry, leather-like, bikini-style garments he'd given to me early on and quickly trotted after him.

Sometimes Hunter would walk with me amongst our 'village', as it were, to observe the activities of the clan. I simply followed and didn't speak unless spoken to by him and kept my head down submissively to avoid a possible confrontation with a member of the clan. I didn't want to accidentally insult one of them. Typically I was given curious or indignant glances, but mostly the other Predators ignored me, accepting that I was Hunter's little Ooman girl. No one argued with Hunter unless they wanted a fight.

As we walked— I taking quicker steps to keep up with Hunter's massive strides—Hunter all at once rounded a corner and halted telling me to stop. I did so and got on my knees in a relaxed pose. My eyes widened slightly when I saw at least a dozen young Predators before Hunter, all lined up orderly. He stood at the very least a foot taller than the young males and was much broader than any of them. Of course most of the 'smaller' Predators were probably around six feet tall and much larger than me…but then again ALL the Predators I'd seen were bigger than me. Dominantly he strode up to the young ones, eyeing them sternly. I noted the smaller Predators held very still and seemed very submissive to him as he looked them over. Honestly, who wouldn't be intimidated?

Hunter slit his yellow eyes and barked harshly, "Alright you young pups! Listen up! To this day I have taught you many weapon skills and hunting techniques…but you've never put them into practice."

Some of the young Predators eyed me in understanding. Some even had blood lust glimmering in their eyes. They probably thought Hunter would turn them all loose on me! I swallowed a nervous lump in my throat, but luckily that's not what the leader had in mind.

Noticing the young ones' eager looks Hunter growled; "Now, this is Little Fighter. She is a juvenile Ooman female I found on my last Ooman hunt. I want to make it very clear to you little Hacnikt that she is MY Ooman and if ANY of you damage her in any way then I will beat you within an inch of your worthless lives! Got it?"

The young Predators' eager looks dimmed and they rapped their chests in acknowledgement. I breathed a sigh of relief.

He continued, "I have brought Little Fighter here to teach you about the first prey you will hunt before your First Hunt to become warriors. So pay attention!"

I was only catching pieces of his speech, but my understanding of the Predator language grew every day. Turning his head Hunter called me over to him and I came to his side instantly.

Then he began his lesson, "Oomans have long been a top prey species for our kind. Mostly they are a prey for young hunters to start out with. Older warriors like me hunt them merely for recreation. However, we only hunt the male of the species; NEVER the females, the young, or the old. It is not honorable."

One of the young hunters in the front took a step forward and held his arm perpendicular before his chest. Apparently that was the position they'd assume if there was a question. Hunter slit his eyes but acknowledged the youth.

"Leader…how are we to tell the difference between the genders?"

Hunter glanced down at me a moment flicking his mandibles slowly. "There are tell-tale differences between the genders. For the most part the males look like we do 'where it counts' as do their females." he explained meaning the groin area. "The males emit much lower sounds than the females and are constructed much more broadly than their females. In fact, as a rule, Ooman males are stronger than their females."

That comment drew clicking snickers from the young males. They laughed because in Predator society the females tended to be taller, stronger, and fiercer than the males. Oomans were completely opposite to them.

Hunter continued, "Another notable difference you will find is an Ooman female will have mammary glands on her chest. Apparently, it is how they feed their offspring.

Another youth stepped forward, posing the question stance. Hunter nodded and the Young Blood asked, "Your Ooman is female, yet she doesn't display all the characteristics you describe."

Hunter peered down at me. "Little Fighter is merely young and has not reached her female maturity. She will inherit the characteristic later in her life." he indicated my breast area.

I gasped only slightly when Hunter bent down and picked me up by the back of my top garment clasp with one hand and lifted me up. Holding very still I blinked as I dangled.

"Oomans are a smaller, light-weight prey— the mature males ranging from 170-250 lbs and the females being less than that. Some males can get larger than that, as can females. The average height of a male varies. Some can reach seven foot heights but they are not very numerous. The majority run in the six foot range or smaller. Females typically do not exceed six feet but a few do."

Gently Hunter lowered me to the ground again, continuing his lecture. "But do not mistake size for power. A great number of Oomans weigh a lot, but it's from fat layers beneath their flesh. Select Oomans with healthy attributes: dense bone structure, solid muscle tone, very little body fat, and most importantly a violent disposition."

Hunter took my little arm between his thumb and index finger and lifted it slightly, "Their strength is limited as is their durability; very easy to kill and take apart."

"Leader, if Oomans are so physically inferior to us then why do we hunt them when there are other creatures more worthy of being our prey?" a sturdy youth with olive green speckled flesh inquired strongly.

Hunter dipped his head, "A worthy question. Oomans are indeed physically weak compared to say a hyek-va or kainde amedha. However, they are remarkably intelligent and violent beings." He placed a large hand over the top of my skull which made me tense just a bit. Then he turned me around and traced a claw over my head and down my spine. "Note the large cranial cavity. This is the part you are after: the skull and spinal column. Removing the skull is simple but extracting the conjoined skull and spine as one whole piece requires strength, skill, and practice. However if the skull is less than desirable, you can also skin your prey. Ooman skin, if treated properly, is soft and pliable and can be used for a variety of purposes."

I'd only picked up part of what Hunter was saying but from what I could tell it sounded very disturbing. He kept referring to my head, back, and skin—remembering all too well what Hunter did only a year ago to the men.

He continued, "Oomans are crafty and inventive and they are our most intelligent prey item. They use a variety of projectile weapons and explosives which seem to compensate for their limited strength and agility. Every hunt, Oomans develop better weapons…they are no where near as sophisticated as our weapons but one day they could be if they continue to progress. Not only are they resourceful but as I mentioned they are violent creatures. The more violent an Ooman behaves the more Honor his skull will bring you, so learn to observe your prospective targets before you strike. Besides that, the more violent your target is the more of a challenge he will present to you. NEVER assume Ooman hunts are easy. I've known many a warrior to fall at the hands of Oomans. They may be easy to kill and physically inferior but they are smart and have an advanced sense of sight. Even with our camouflage they can sometimes see us. Their eyes are highly developed and enable them to see fine details and movement. They do not see as we do so keep it in mind. But IF you become proficient hunters—which at this point I seriously doubt—you should be able to sneak up on them and use your sound mimicry to draw them closer. But that is a lesson for another day. That is all. You have combat calisthenics to perfect."

Deliberately the youths dispersed at Hunter's command and he patted my head lightly and said simply, "Very good Little Fighter. More tomorrow."

For years after that I came to these lessons with Hunter and they became more physical and in depth as I and the youths became older. Eventually Hunter decided that when I turned 11 or 12 that it was time to increase the young Predator's involvement with me. Basically that meant I became a hunting target for exercises.

Even before these lessons began, Hunter taught me the complex art of Predator combat. Though I lacked the strength and stature I learned very quickly to use my smallness and agility to outmaneuver my opponents. He taught me these skills to make me a better hunting target—more of a challenge for the young hunters.

The first hunting lesson familiarized the young hunters with a human's behavior when stalked. Basically, I would run into the densely vegetated 'jungle', as it were, and hide. Then, Hunter would send in one of the young Predators in after me and the objective was to capture me and bring me back, with minimal injury; a morbid form of "Hide and Seek". Hunter used this lesson to teach young Predators how to sneak up on their prey without the use of camouflage and honestly it was terrifying!

So, I'd run into the jungle to hide and after awhile a student would rush into the jungle to hunt me down and bring me back relatively unscathed. It just sent primal knives of ice into my guts at the unnerving feeling of being stalked. But as I got older and more experienced, I could be quite a tricky target for a human female. Eventually it became a lot of fun tricking my adversaries. Of course, tricking a Predator, even a young Predator, was difficult and dangerous because if I fooled them it just pissed them off and they'd want to catch me even more! Young Predators that hadn't hit their late teen years were particularly dangerous because of their volatile, untamed natures. Luckily they were not very smart like the older warriors. But they were very big and unbelievably strong even at such a young age.

One example of such an unpredictable youth was Algar. Algar hated humans and he made this attitude crystal clear to me. I recall vividly the first time when Algar was sent out to hunt me. Though he and the others were instructed by Hunter not to harm me, he didn't take it to heart.

At first, everything went as usual. I hid and slinked around the area to avoid being caught. Typically when one of the young Predators caught me they'd subdue and capture me and then carry me back. Algar decided to rough me up, or rather, nearly beat me to death!

He got the drop on me and grabbed me by the back of the neck and using the awesome strength possessed by his race he threw me backward several yards! I fell on my back but managed to turn the fall into a somersault in order to get back on my feet. That wasn't so uncommon. I always got thrown around like a stone. For some reason I think the young Predators delighted in having a target that was so light that they could barely touch me and send me flying! I'd become almost cat-like as I'd gotten older because I learned to land on my feet or at least turn a throw into something gentler.

But…Algar didn't stop with a simple throw. Much to my dismay he tromped over to me and delivered a sound kick in my stomach, sending me flying across the ground. Barely able to breathe I tried to get up, but he raced up to me and smacked me across the jaw, leaving a gash across my cheek and later a nasty, purple bruise. Tears spilling over my young face I tried yet again to get away, but this time Algar seized me up by the throat, holding me at arm's length with a very evil glint in his eye. I grasped his forearm as his unbreakable grip tightened around my small neck. Can't…breath! Just as I thought death would take me, Algar cast me against a 'tree', effectively knocking me out.

…

When I finally came to I was awakened by intense bellowing roars of rage from Hunter! Cursing in his language and flaring his mandibles furiously, Hunter backhanded Algar across the face, making him bleed neon green blood from his mouth! Algar seethed, twitching his bleeding mandible, but didn't fight back because he knew Hunter would kick his ass if he tried. I'm certain the punishment was mainly for defiance of his orders and not for me personally. In any case it made Algar all the more vengeful towards me.

However not all the young Predators were like Algar. One young Predator, with whom I became warrior friends, was named Garv…at least that's what his name sounded like to me. Standing a shade over 6'3 and flesh lined with bold reddish brown stripes, he didn't look nearly as imposing as the fully grown Predators. I guessed he was my age or close to it, still in adolescence and reaching the point of teen-hood.

Garv was a very skilled hunter for his age and unusually intelligent as well, but a lot of the other young Predators didn't seem to like him much. I never understood why, but it seemed like every time there was a fight, Garv was in the thick of it. Mostly he'd win the fights, but the victories were hollow. He was an outcast like me. Garv developed a respect for me when he witnessed a battle I fought against a horrible alien beast.

It happened when I was 15 out on my own in the jungle. Hunter taught me all about hunting and the like since it was the very core of all Predator culture. He would allow me to go out by myself to hunt with the special spear and wrist-blades he'd given to me. They were special due to their smaller size and lighter weight. An average Predator spear or wrist blade weighed too much for me to wield efficiently. I'd never killed anything dangerous or sizable, just smallish lemur creatures and reptiles. But on this occasion I ran into something far larger and more terrifying than I'd ever encountered.

I turned fast when a twig snapped nearby, brandishing my spear in a warrior stance. Then the monster appeared. It looked like a demon wolf-lizard from Hell! Its sizable head filled with dagger fangs and dripping with saliva was set low to the ground while it's spiked back arched high into the air. Its fur was black and had intermittent patches of white reptilian scales and the long lizard tail bore a mace-like tip. Snarling viciously its four glowing green eyes burned into me. I'd never seen a live creature like this before, though Hunter had a couple of these furs on his wall. That frightened me because Hunter was the best warrior in the clan and if he deemed these beasts worthy of a trophy then I knew they possessed deadly attributes!

I held my barb tipped spear in front of me as the horse sized monster began to circle, its back spikes rattling. My heart pounded thunderously in my ears, but I maintained my composure. I learned early in life to harness my fear and choke it but still the fear crept in the shadows of my mind. The beast growled, waiting for an opening, and finally it leaped baring its slavering jaws wide! If I'd been a Predator I would have skewered the brute on the end of my spear, but since I hadn't the strength or size to bear such a blow and survive I managed to launch off the ground with my spear and flip over its high shoulder, landing gracefully behind it. Flustered by the move the animal whirled around and prepared for another assault. I hissed through my bared teeth aggressively. Swinging its mace-like tail over its head it swatted at me. The ball's spikes managed to rake several gashes across my thighs which burned like fire! I growled, clenching my teeth from the pain. Smelling the drawn blood it lunged in frenzy, but this time I anticipated it.

At the last second, when the beast's jaws nearly clamped onto my throat, I fell to the ground and as it flew over I jammed the opposite tip of my spear into the ground for security and the spear pierced up into its thick scaled throat! Impaled, the monster staggered away from me, gurgling and lashing out at nothing. Pink blood spurted from its neck, soaking the jungle floor, but the beast refused to die.

Standing nearby I clenched my fists, making my wrist blades shoot out of their sheaths. I would end this like a Predator. I reared back and stabbed both sets of duel blades into its furry side, making the beast wheel on me in a blind fury. Its wolfish, crocodile head turned to the side; it seemed to barely be aware of where I stood. All it knew was pain. Death wanted it and I would help it claim this monstrosity! Shrieking a warrior's cry I slashed my blades down into the beast's thick neck causing a fountain of the hot pick blood to arc through the air! The beast reared and as it did the wound opened wider. With furious thrashing the monster reared up on its back legs convulsing until all life flittered away in pink pools of hot blood. Sweat poured from my skin and blood ran down my gashed thigh as I stood over my kill. Never had I imagined taking down such a large animal but I'd done it. I'd killed something worthy of a trophy and I did it all on my own!

Suddenly a large dark figure dropped down from above and landed before me. Reacting instinctually I raised my wrist blades in defense, but then realized it was Garv. I vaguely recognized him because of his unique jagged skin patterning and instantly withdrew my blades, lowering my head submissively. I did this to all Predators, no matter what their age because I remained lowest in the hierarchical clan. I had no idea what this young Predator wanted or why he was out here.

He cocked his large head at me and viewed my kill for a minute. Then he said in his guttural language, "This is a good kill Little Fighter."

I lifted my head. A…compliment? And he called me by my name instead of calling me "Ooman" like the other Predators did? He must've seen the whole thing. Gripping my spear in the carcass he yanked it out and held it a moment. Then he rolled the dead monster over exposing its underbelly and slit it open with my spear. I watched as the young hunter reached into the body and ripped out a purplish organ, his clawed hand dripping with pink blood. Turning he held the gory organ out to me with a soft rattle. I viewed the nasty thing until he insisted again that I take it.

I took the hot organ in my hand and he said, "Reck-vet."

Eat it? Swallowing, I readied myself and bit a mouthful of hot bloody flesh. Unlike the first raw meat I had this didn't taste good at all. I nearly puked. Garv clicked with laughter as I gagged.

Still holding the organ I asked, "So what do I do now?"

Garv seemed to understand and handed me my spear. "Remove the head. Keep it. Present it to Hunter." From that simple encounter we developed a warrior friendship.

I took the trophy to Hunter later on. Laying the severed head on his kill altar before the trophy wall I knelt, waiting for him to react. He viewed the beast's head. "You…killed this? With what weapon did you use?" he rumbled in his language.

"Spear, blades, and… myself." I replied strongly.

He glanced at me and the response seemed to amuse him, "You…a weapon? You think yourself a weapon?"

Still kneeling before him I nodded, "Do you not consider your body a weapon?"

He clicked softly with laughter. "Your talk is clever Little Fighter. This hyek-va is your first true kill. Honorable for an Ooman."

My head dipped in thanks. "You honor me Hunter."

Nodding in return he stroked the furry severed head, "I will teach you how to clean this and preserve it. You may keep it in your quarter."

As the new lesson commenced my chest was swelling with barely contained pride at my achievement and Hunter's generous compliment. For once in my life I felt…equal and honored.