Hi everyone! Back from after a LONG time to just say that I'm here to write another fanfiction. Hope you like it! Jurassic Park is owned by Michel Crichton and I don't own any of the char. mentioned in here. So yeah, enjoy! (Also, I have been reading some fanfiction on here and I have to say, I have taken a few of the elements from that. If I did, I give credit to you. Enjoy just the same.) Also, I will be putting in things from the book and the movie. (Movie more because, even with the flaws, the first movie is the only movie CLOSE to the book.
Sure, any day would be better than this, any day. But today isn't one of those days as I get zapped at my side. Of course, this is getting a head of myself, and I'm starting in the middle of my story. To really see my life, we have to go to the beginning. It was there, I was beginning to take a stand above the rest of the hatchlings. Not killing mind you, no. Not yet anyways as I slowly dragged a worker from outside to feed the burning hunger inside of me. This is my story, Alpha.
The first part of the story here will be in italics, thank you all!
Movement, I sense this as I feel being picked up and turned in my shell. It's comforting, but as I rotate, I feel change. Hatching will happen soon. It's weird to think, to feel these things, but I'm beginning to adapt. It's almost time to hatch.
Angling my head some, I open my eyes. It's light, lighter than the dark I used to know. But it's filtered, and yet so bright it still hurts my eyes. However, I don't wine or whimper. It's not what I think I should do. I haven't even hatched yet, and I think like an adult should.
I know what I am, a predator. Not prey. A predator that has cunning, speed, claws… Of course I know I am no match when I hatch. But I will be in due time, one that will kill without mercy. Even if I have to all by myself.
Gathering strength in my neck, I burst through the shell and keep going. Struggling, I don't squeak. After all, there's a price for those who do. I know there are hunters out there, bigger than me, thinking of how to eat me. Ignore us in our eggs; we are better prey when we hatch with more meat on our fragile bones. We still can't fight back, even though I would try with teeth that are as sharp as can be.
Yes, I remember biding my time before even opening my eyes. I would hear voices, but they weren't squeaks, and they were long. Longer then any other our size, our prey, so they had to be predators. I found a way to get around that. Don't squeak, they might not notice. No matter what, don't squeak.
But as I struggled, I noticed my strength was not as I thought as the egg tipped and trapped me under. Don't squeak, don't squeak, don't… But in the end, I gave up. I let out the loudest squeak I ever heard when I was in that egg as I felt being lifted up by smooth, sickly warm sticky skin that was rapped around the hand of the predator. I wasn't going to go down like this. No I wasn't.
I began to thrash around furiously as the man took off my egg and put me down. However, I didn't let him get away unscaved. Ripping and tearing with my claws, I drew blood. Lots and lots of it through a little cut in his hand. And as he practically dropped me down, I began to lick the blood that was on my claws. It's salty warmth made me hungry, made me want more.
If I was then, I would have jumped at him. But, sadly I was small and had very little energy, so I just sat back and watched. He examined the cut as he tried to stop the blood, but he spoke to me as if that was good, as if I was advanced enough to do what I had done was great. And it was then that I realized that they were stupid. Humans were stupid. But I had a feeling that, for a while, I would have to get used to them until they turned their back on me or until I was bigger. Otherwise, I would die.
Relaxing a little with the fact on how stupid they were, I laid down and waited for him to make the first move. I wasn't going to harm him again; he wasn't really a threat at all. He was stupid, but he knew I was no shark. But he would be one of the ones to go when I grew. Not only did he taste good, but it was my first taste of real meat. I wasn't going to let him get away alive just yet.
I saw him smile a little as he picked up a black box and began to talk to it, apparently thinking it would talk back. Later, he put it down and started to make marks on a clipboard of some sort, but not saying to me this:
"Looks like you and your siblings are going straight to the nursery."
And right then, I should have known it would have been a whole new ball game.