Man, this story seems to be doing well…6 reviews already!

Anyway, this chapter will be jumping about 7 years into the future, to the point where Drake is 12 years old. The next chapter will be a major change in Drake's life.

In response to xDarkmasterx's review (So no-one else asks), yes, there will be Xenomorphs in this story. So that's good news for fans of the murderous, acid-gobbing bugs. The bad news for fans of the murderous, acid-gobbing bugs is that they won't be appearing for a while yet. But there is some stuff happening. I'm going to try and put some real emotion into this story (But not quite yet).

Yautja, Predator and all related characters and trademarks are © 20th Century Fox.

A HUNT GONE WRONG

7 Years Later

The night wind whipped coldly through the air as Drake crouched silently on the rooftop. He looked out over the streets below and up at the night sky. He always loved the night…the light that only the night could produce.

He had been stalking his prey…his first prey…across half the city until it stopped here. Now, at last, he could claim his first trophy after 7 years of training.

His prey was below in an alley; a young, Spanish man surrounded by several others and carrying a large briefcase.

"You bring the stuff?" One of them asked.

The man nodded. "Hell, yeah…Coke, Hemp…you name it."

"Nice."

The gangsters turned and entered the old, derelict warehouse. After watching them head inside, Drake quickly jumped down into the alley, unwittingly landing in a puddle, which had the unfortunate effect of shorting out his Stealth.

After a brief surge of electricity, Drake became visible.

By now, he was twelve years old, but was clearly growing into a fairly tall boy. He was already slightly muscular. His hair- not yet braided- was a dark brown. He wore simplistic Yautja armour and a mask.

After a surge of energy, another Yautja- this one over 8 feet tall- appeared next to him.

"A careless mistake. You should wait for that to come back online."

"I don't need it." Drake extended a pair of razor-edges wristblades.

"Don't be foolish, Drake. I know you're excited about your first hunt, but…"

"I can handle it!"

"Drake, wait!"

Drake leapt up onto a fire escape and in through a window.

Grunting in his frustration at the boy's strong-headedness, Scarface re-activated his Stealth and leapt up through the window.

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One of the gang members was currently upstairs when he heard something running about. Something suddenly darted between a pair of crates.

"What the…"

Taking out a handgun, the gangster walked up to the crates. As soon as he looked in, something suddenly leapt out and struck him in the chest. He went flying back, straight into a wall, as that something came to a stop.

He looked up to see one of the most bizarre sights to ever meet his eyes.

It was a fairly small figure, garbed in some sort of armour and a metal mask covering its face.

The bizarre thing was its size- it didn't look anything over 12 years old- maybe 13 at most.

"…The…"

He instinctively whipped out a handgun, aimed at the figure and fired.

In a flash, Drake had ducked, and, wristblades extended, thrust forward, impaling the man right in the chest. After a brief second, he pulled them back out.

Scarface had indeed trained the boy well. Drake stood there for a few seconds, before something kicked the door down. Three other gang members burst in, brandishing handguns.

"What the hell…it's just some damn kid!"

Drake instinctively leapt to the side, throwing a large disc through the air as he did so. Jagged, razor-sharp blades shot out from the sides as it sliced through two of them.

In the time that took, Drake had jumped to the top of a stack of crates and leapt up. The last one prepared to fire a handgun, but Drake already had out another weapon. A small spear shot out, bursting right through his attacker.

"And Scarface said this would be hard," Drake sighed as he ran through the corridor.

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"You OK, Man? You look kinda jumpy…"

"Just feeling weird," Drake's target shrugged, "I feel like something's been following me."

"Nah, you're just paranoid," One of the others shrugged, "Just have some of this…"

"Asshole!" The gang leader yelled, "What do you think you're doing? That's the god-damn merchandise, you…"

"What the hell is that?"

From the ledge above them, Drake suddenly leapt out, wristblades extended, hurtling down toward the gang members.

"Whoa! What the…"

Across the room, Scarface remained hidden.

"Oh no…"

Drake landed in the middle of them, spinning round with his wristblades extended, cutting through two of the gangsters.

However, before Drake could do anything further, another of them whipped out a handgun and fired a shot into Drake's side. The boy cried out in pain, clutching his hand as the remaining three took out their guns.

"What the…it's just a…"

"Who cares? Just shoot it!"

A sudden, deep roar diverted their attention.

From atop a nearby crate, a huge, 8-foot-tall, armour-covered creature leapt forward, extending a jagged spear as a burst of white-hot plasma shot from the cannon on its shoulder. It hit one of them in a massive explosion as the monster hit the ground, stabbing another one through the stomach.

The last one, the supplier, instantly turned and ran. Still on his knees, Drake took out the Speargun and fired, the spear striking its target in the back of the head.

Scarface ignored the kills, running to Drake's side and helping him up.

"Drake! Are you…"

Scarface looked down at Drake's side. The cut was deep, blood pouring down Drake's side, already covering Scarface's hand.

"Damn it…"

Drake finally lost consciousness, and Scarface barely caught him before he hit the floor.

"Drake…No…"

So, Drake is seriously wounded! Don't miss the next few chapters for some important changes to the story. After that there's a lot of emotion going to happen. Hopefully I can get to the Xenomorphs by the 10th chapter. Sorry, Alien fans out there, but there's a lot of storytelling to be done here!

Hope you liked the character of Drake- he's meant to come off as pretty reckless and hard-headed; the kind who always rushes into things without thinking…and now look where it's gotten him!