Hey! Only a few chapters left. Woo! I'm excited. I hope you are too. ;)

Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? I mean, really. This is getting ridiculous. I don't own anything. Not even the lovely, scary, evil, horrible aliens.

The creature stopped tearing the man apart and turned towards Rodney. Blood fell freely from its' mouth, tail, and claws as it stalked towards him. He could see pieces of muscle still attached to its' claws as well as something that resembled an eyeball staring at him unseeing. It stopped several inches away from Rodneys' face, a horrible gurgling sound coming from deep within its' throat, almost as if it was sniffing him.

The saliva slime dropped from its' mouth, landing on Rodneys' foot and pants, and coating the floor. It slowly opened its' mouth and to Rodneys' horror, a second smaller mouth came out in place if the creatures tongue. The mouth had razor sharp teeth and bit the air in front of him.

Detachedly, Rodney watched as the creature reared its' body to attack. Silently crying, he waited to be torn to shreds.

Chapter Six

The attack never came.

Sounds of a struggle could be heard through dulled senses as human and inhuman screams blended into a single cacophony. Gentle hands worked their way up to his neck and released the hold the coil had upon him.

He slipped to the ground, air finally seeping into his lungs and giving him breath. He gulped in air before coughing harshly, his sore throat protesting at this miniscule act.

Hands rubbed his back soothingly, a disembodied voice speaking softly to him. "It is alright Rodney. It is alright."

Rodney blinked before rubbing his eyes to try and clear them. He peered up at one of his saviors and started. "Teyla?"

She smiled brightly at him, her eyes crinkled with worry. "Yes. I am here."

Rodney nodded dumbly before looking around and spotting Ronon still tearing the creature apart despite that it was obviously dead. He cleared his throat, finally getting his wits about him. "You guys are alright?"

Teyla nodded, hands still lingering on his back. "Yes. We ran into several of those creatures not too long ago. We attempted to contact you but I did not realize I had lost my radio in the altercation. Ronons' radio was missing as well."

"Oh." Rodney slowly stood up, wavering slightly before regaining his footing. "We found one of your guys' radios. We weren't sure what happened." He tapped to his ear. "I've been using it."

Teyla nodded in acceptance. "Where is John?"

Rodney stiffened. His hands reflexively went towards his pack where he kept his laptop, only to realize that he had recently used it as a weapon. He spotted in only several feet away and quickly scrambled towards it.

The laptop had a small dent on its' side where it had smashed into Dr. Galeia. He felt a tight squeeze reach around his heart. God, he knew that man. They had had many discussions together and worked on several projects. He never thought the man was particularly bright compared to some of the other scientists and never had any qualms about telling him as much. But still. He knew him.

It took him a little while to realize his hands were still shaking. He steeled himself and opened up the laptop.

"Thank God," he mumbled, noticing that his screen was still very much intact and the programs still up and running. He quickly brought up the screen that was linked to the camera.

Hope filled his mind.

Teyla had walked up behind him, obviously seeing his bright expression. Hers, however, turned dark a frown marring her complexion. "What are we seeing?"

"Sheppard decided to be an idiot again and went off to turn on the power by himself. I attached a camera to his gun so I could keep tabs on him." He pointed to the screen.

The screen flickered again as another section of the floor was revealed as the camera was slowly dragged. The outline of what looked to be one of Johns' black boots could be seen off to the side.

"He's being dragged," Rodney said breathily. "They didn't kill him."

Ronon growled, appearing suddenly next to Rodney. His body was scrunched up and tense, radiating an almost predatorily vibe.

"Where are they taking him then?" Teyla questioned, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen.

Rodney grimaced. "Not a good place if what they said was right. They mentioned something about a hatchery."

Teyla started. "Who said this?"

"Oh," Rodney blinked, suddenly remembering that they didn't know about their find. "We ran into Lorne and his team. Some of the military and scientists from the expedition were there as well."

"They are alright then?" Teyla asked, relief flooding her voice.

"Yes. Crap!" Rodney ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I completely forgot about them." He turned his body slightly away from his teammates and tapped his ear. "Lorne? You there? Lorne?"

Silence met his query.

"Erh, look if you can hear me we got the power on, but –uh- Sheppard got himself into a situation. We're going to go fetch him now."

Rodney frowned slightly when the silence was not broken. "He isn't answering." He gave a worried look to Teyla.

"They can wait," Ronon interrupted, turning away from the laptop to watch the hallway.

"Ronon is right," Teyla chimed in. "Major Lorne is a professional. I am sure he is keeping the others safe. We must find John first."

Rodney nodded numbly. "Okay." He let loose a heavy breath. "I know where he was when he was taken." He looked at Ronon. "We should be able to determine the path that it took."

Ronons' grin was savage.

"Very well, Rodney. Lead the way." Teyla motioned for Rodney to go, making sure to stay near.

Rodney walked past the gruesome remains of Dr. Galeias, forcing himself not to be ill. Bile rose to the back of his throat, and he had to actively clear his throat to stop it from bubbling over.

It was his fault, he knew, tears starting to form in the back of his eyes. He said that it was a safe planet; that they wouldn't be in danger. Some of the scientists he had sent were terrified of going off world and he just sent them to their doom. He killed them.

He forced back the tears, focusing instead on his task. He could mourn later, he reasoned. Once they got Sheppard and everyone off the planet safely.

Confidence slowly leaking back into his stride, he led the way to the power room. They were all going to get out alive. But first, they were going to save Sheppard.

The first thing he was aware of was pain. There was a sharp pain the resonated in his head and a dull ache that permeated throughout his muscles. The second was that it was hot; unbelievably hot. Sweat dripped from his brow, his face flushed. He didn't remember the temperature of the complex being so high before.

Thirdly, was the smell, made more intensive because of the humid atmosphere. It smelled dank, wet, metallic, and rotten.

He gagged.

Ignoring the stench, he gulped up the air, mind focusing more and more with every breath. His blurry vision faded until it revealed the room he was situated in.

It was dark, the lights unable to completely illuminate the room. The same secretion was found on the walls and ceiling only in larger quantities. The floor, however, was littered with large oval objects that appeared to be interconnected with the odd looking organic tubes on the ground.

John shook his head lightly before starting forward. He didn't budge.

Blinking in surprise, he quickly appraised his situation. He appeared to be stuck to the wall the secretion. One of his arms was spread eagle while the other lay limply at his side. Both, however, were cemented in place with the substance.

He quickly spotted his gun nearby, the camera on it facing somewhere to the left of him. Frankly, he was surprised he had managed to hold on to it for so long. He vaguely remembered screaming, the sound of bullets, and being hit in the head.

He winced, attempting to bring his hand to his head, momentarily forgetting he was stuck. A groan escaped his lips as he jerked again against his bonds.

The secretion stretched minutely. It wasn't much, maybe an inch, but it surprised him nonetheless. The secretion had looked rock solid and unyielding. Now, the substance was glistening and had become somewhat pliable.

It was melting, he realized.

He gave another tug, only somewhat disappointed when he still didn't break free. Apparently, it hadn't melted enough.

He let out a frustrated huff before pulling against his restraints again. He wouldn't allow himself to be stuck to the wall and accept whatever horrible fate awaited him. He had wayward people to find and a vacation to enjoy.

A soft muttering echoed in the room and for a brief moment he thought it was coming from his radio. He tensed, focusing on slowing his breathing and keeping quiet, in hopes to locate where the sound was coming from. He realized it was coming from his left.

Pulling at his prison, he bent as far forward as was allowed and peered around. He found the source of the noise immediately. Littered among the walls were what appeared to be the missing villagers and expedition members. They were stuck to the wall in a similar manner as him, however as he looked closer, he realized many were, in fact, dead. Their faces were twisted in horrible agony, arms stuck in a clawed position as if in their last moments of life, they were trying to break free. All of their stomachs were burst outwards, ribs poking out grotesquely, creating a demented picture. John knew if he peered closer, he would be able to see inside each individual through the massive holes.

A handful of the people had something on their face. It appeared to be attached and looked organic and a bit like tissue. If he looked towards the ground, he would notice the various dead bodies of the creatures scattered around the dead.

The one creating the sound was a man, who appeared to have been from the village. The odd markings on his face gleamed in the dim light, the fear in his eyes palpable.

"Hey," John called out softly, cursing himself for not learning any customary phrases. "Hey! It's going to be alright."

The mans' eyes met his, unusually bright in the darkness. He may not have known the native language but it was clear what the man was trying to say: Help me!

"It's going to be alright," John tried again, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I've got people on the way." At least he assumed they were on the way, but he refused to think of the alternative. "They're going to get us out of here."

The man gasped suddenly, eyes clenching shut as his body convulsed forwards. His mutterings increased in pitch until he was screaming, the words blending and slurring into one another.

He convulsed again, his bulky frame hitting the secretion before going back to its' prone position.

It looked horribly familiar.

John felt bile slowly work its way up from his stomach as he realized what was happening and what was going to happen. His teeth clenched, eyes unable to turn away from the horror unfolding before him.

The villagers words, John realized, were some sort of prayer, repeating over and over as the creature tore at his insides. A bulge started to appear just above the stomach, pressing against skin and muscle.

John quickly sent a prayer that the mans' death would be quick. His body tense, his mouth dry, he slowly started to repeat the words the villager had been repeating. He mangled the words and no doubt butchered the language, but it was the only comfort he could offer the dying man.

The villager started, his voice tapering off as he turned wide, pain filled eyes to John. His mouth was open as if silently screaming, body arched backwards. His eyes found Johns', gratitude shining brightly through the pain.

In that instant, he looked at peace.

The creature finally burst through, blood and guts spraying the ground below. Its' little body gleamed, drenched in crimson and bodily fluid. It opened its' mouth and let out a soft hiss, what appeared to be organ still stuck to its teeth.

In a flash, it jumped out of the hole it had just created and dashed off in between the eggs. In an instant, it was gone.

John slowly closed his eyes and turned away. This time he couldn't stop the vomit as it burst its' way out of his mouth and onto the ground. His body shook under the strain of body and mind, shudders racking his body as he finally realized the process.

His eyes slowly dragged back to the left to those people still alive with creatures attached to their faces. The creatures were laying eggs, he thought, horror reaching inside and gripping tightly at him.

He turned back to look in front of him, to the perfectly placed egg that sat only several feet away from his position. He returned with fervor to trying to escape from his prison.

The substance surrounding his right arm suddenly gave, a sickening slurping sound resonating throughout the room as his arm flung forward. Unfortunately, he had used too much force and it ended up swinging back at him and hitting him in the left shoulder.

He winced and flexed his fingers, trying to regain feeling in his hands. One down, he thought, the rest of his body to go.

With one of his arms free, he reached to his radio. He was happily surprised to find it still connected to his ear, albeit loosely. With the way everyone had been losing radios, he had thought for sure his would somehow wind up missing as well.

Unable to stop the grin from appearing on his face at his good stroke of luck, he opened his mouth to speak.

Something shrieked in the background, silencing him immediately. The air had become thick again and all-consuming and he found his eyes unwillingly wandering to the egg, his egg.

Silently, the top slowly opened up, slime coming out as it did so. The four leaves it created lay flat against its' container. Inside, something pulsed and moved.

Hysteria bubbled forth, fear freezing his body. He could only stare, transfixed, as a single skinny leg reached out and over the egg, slowly pushing the crab-like creature to the surface.

He could feel a scream start, but quickly clenched his mouth shut, grinding teeth together. The eggs no doubt went through the throat. Like hell he was going to let it freely enter his mouth. His hand twitched beside him as the creature reoriented itself until it was pointing towards him.

He stared at it, and he knew without a doubt, it stared back at him.

It leapt.