I don't exactly have a probable excuse that could explain why this chapter is late, so I won't even try. I've just been HELLA busy studying for the DMV, tests and had to apply for a job. A JOB. But, here it is. Enjoy! (Sorry if its short!)

Chapter 4

(Flash back)

"Do you know why we are doing this, Mr. Wolf?" The general asked formally.

"N-no sir. I don't know…" I replied nervously.

"Would you kindly take a guess?" He requested, pouring bourbon from a bottle into a large shot glass and sitting down.

"My injuries?"

"Restate what you just said to me, without putting it into the format of a question," he stated calmly.

"M-my injuries, sir." I told him, growing even more nervous.

"Mmmm…" He sounded as he drank his alcohol with impressive speed. "That's partly the reason, but not what I was looking for. Son, do you know at all why you're being discharged by me?"

I felt this new concept of emotion cloud my thoughts. Fear. Fear, which I haven't felt at all on the battlefield until now. "I-I'm afraid not sir."

"Okay." He tipped the lip of the bottle into the glass once more, filling it only halfway. "Well then let me help you. The reason I'm discharging you is because of how you got these injuries. You mind telling me how you got them, Mr. Wolf?"

I honestly dreaded when he called me that name. Every fucking time something was wrong or when he was just plain disappointed, he called the lower ranked by their last names. FORMALLY.

"I…" I began to stutter. Before I can answer, he slamed his fist down on the desk, spilling his drink all over my discharge papers. I nearly shit in my own pants.

"You ran you little shit! You ran from the line of fire to take cover and stepped on a fucking mine!" He yelled out, getting red faced. "And do you know what that did?"

"Gave away my platoons position…" I said, looking down.

"Exactly. Not only you lost an eye and a leg, you lost the lives of nearly eighteen men, all along with my fucking respect," he spat on the ground venomously. He picked up a pen and signed my half soaked discharge papers and threw them at me. "You are officially dishonorably discharged. Pick that shit up and get out of my fucking office."

I left, the papers in my hand. I was on the verge of tears as I struggled to walk with a slight limp in each step I made.

-0-0-0-0-

No… I thought. No no no no… No no no… This can't be possible… I did nothing but pace back and fourth in the administrative office near the bathroom, unsure what to do. My heart was beating like crazy, my breathing was severely quickened and I was confused as shit.

I paced left of the bathroom. I paced right. Then left. Then right. Left. Right. Left… This can't be fucking possible… This just can't… I thought. I walked into the rest room for the umpteenth time, looking into the mirror and just staring at myself. After a moment or two, I just walked out and resumed pacing, more panicked than ever.

This can't be real, I thought. I must be dreaming. No, I've got to be dead. I was shaking like a mad man, thinking and thinking to try and find a rational explanation to what I was experiencing. Could I be unconscious? Could I be dead? Could… Could this be… Real!?

I went to the bathroom again, looked at myself once more, and resumed to pace around the restroom entrance. What the fuck… What the fuck… What the fuck… I didn't know what to do. Hell, I didn't even know what was real. There must be…

I discontinued my pacing and went to the bathroom mirror again, staring at my own reflection with mixed feelings of fear and bewilderment. I left it and resumed pacing, feeling my chest shiver from shock and horror. Within seconds I slipped on the old, nearly-dry pool of blood.

My step faltered and my entire body immediately tumbled on its side. I fell down, a series of loud CLAKS! sounding around the room. My whole body flinched as the sounds attacked my ears (tympanums?). Instinctively, the direction of my elongated head darted towards multiple places as I heard them, like how a bird snaps its head around to look at something.

I stayed on the ground for a few minutes, extensively quivering. I threw a quick glance on the ground, a sense of disgust growing within this confused mind of mine. It seems that my pacing had tracked claw-shaped blood prints everywhere. I also noticed that there were fresh, but shallow claw marks dug into the stone floor. Made by me.

Shaking my head, I got back up and just stood there, struggling to think clearly. The HELL happened to me? I asked myself. Figiting, I started to recollect my previous memories to retrace my steps. I remember… But I couldnt. I already dug up all of the memories I could think of form this strange, alien brain that I'm housed in.

I picked myself up and leaned against the wall, barely even bothering to look around anymore. I let out a shakey breath, trying to just let myself cry. I wouldve too, if I had regular, human eyes. I wanted to cry, and I cant. I wanted to feel the familiar burn in my eyes, causing them to leek out salty, warm fluids to ease the mental torture I'm going through right now. But I have no fucking eyes… I thought.

I felt my chest tighten, and my newly found claws twitch as hot, boiling anger built up within me. I have no fucking eyes… I thought again. This time, I felt the muscles in my new, backwards jointed legs tremble and tail jerk slightly. I HAVE NO FUCKING EYES!

In the loudest scream (or screech) my fucking alien lungs could hold, I lifted my paw and slammed it into the wall, making a loud SHCRAGGGCK! as the wall gave in a little. I turned towards the wall and slammed my other paw into it, breaking the hollowed-out wall even more. Then I hit it again. And again. And again. And again… And again…

I dont know how long I was there swiping at the wall, but I honestly didn't care. My arms ached and my claws hurt, but I didnt give a shit. Eventually I stopped, panting for air and nursing my paws which were now possibly bruised.

Cursing to myself, I took a step back and just stood there, holding my injured, lethal appendages close to my chest. I looked up and quickly examined the "handiwork" I accomplished in my inevitable rage. The hole was large, and some of the concrete fell freely onto the ground. I didnt take note in how much damage I did, instead I was only bewildered that I could even SCRATCH the wall in the first place. It didn't matter though. None of it mattered. Not in this hell hole.

I turned away, trying to bury in myself in thought. I nearly jumped out of my skin (exoskeleton?) when I heard the large crack in the wall sound behind me. I imediately spun around, tail dragging in a semi-circle on the ground. I stared at the crack in the wall as it began to grow larger. Within seconds, it webbed out, spreading a series of more cracks towards the ceiling.

I stood there like an idiot, gawking at the sight of concrete beginning to collapse. I followed my gaze to where the largest crack was spanning to, which was directly above my head. I felt (surprise surprise) my heart hammering in my chest once more as I was trying to anticipate what was going to happen next.

For one terrifying moment, there was nothing but silence. But before I finally realized what was happening, it was already too late. The ceiling above me came crashing down over me. A few peices of debris fell on the top of my elongated head. It didnt hurt much, but it was annoying as hell, even when I sheilded my face from the collapsing pieces of the ceiling. After a minute or two, it stopped.

I slowly took my claws away from my face, looking up a second time. I then realized that the ceiling actually wasnt made of concrete. Instead, it was hollow, made of sheetrock using iron rods as a skeleton for the wall. The ceiling was obviously cheaply made, without any reguard for protecting anyone from potential falling rocks.

I shifted my sight to the giant hole in the ceiling caused by my anger. I didnt really know how far it led up, but it was obviously farther than the light could reach.

Fucking assholes made the ceiling- I thought. But I was cut off as I spotted something in the hole above me. I peered through, straining my visual organ to see what it was. Oh fuck m- I began. In a spit second, the large, dull stalagmite smacked me directly on my head. Then the familiar shroud of darkness clouded my mind for the third time…

–0–0–0–0–0–0-

I had the worlds largest head ache anyone could ever have. If I didn't feel like shit before, then I felt like it now. My entire body ached, my vision was blurry again, there was ringing in my ears and my head hurt like hell.

Fuck my life… I thought. I was going to try and move myself, but I thought twice and didn't even bother. I just wanted to lay here and do nothing… I'm probably injured and slowly bleeding out anyway. It'd be nice to die right about now…

"Is it still alive?" A voice asked. Within moments, I felt a poke tap the side of my head. I instantly felt a wave of pain, but couldn't react to it because of shock.

"Under all that rubble?" Said another. "Doubt it. As strong as these things are, even THEY can survive without being crushed by cave parts,"

"You mean rocks… Right?" Asked the first voice. The second voice merely grunted as I heard some debris rustle near me and footsteps fade away. Great, I thought. Now I'm hearing voices. I lifted myself with great effort, letting the debris fall off of me.

I could barely stand. I severely staggered when I stood as if I was the drunkest man on the planet. I pushed myself onto a wall and dragged alongside of it, moving towards the main office. I kept hearing the voices chatter near the corner, which was actually at the main office.

I came to a stop and my heart fluttered at what I saw when I reached the corner. There were two people walking around the room, bending over and sifting through garbage and looking in desks. One of then looked to be an engineer, though he lacked the hat and badge. The other was this buff, beef bus of a man. He was wearing dirty, casual clothes with black, nylon ammo straps that held could hold a number of different types of ammunition. Survivors…? I thought, processing what I was currently seeing. Survivors!? Oh thank god!

I felt relieved to finally see another human being on this god forsaken planet. Maybe they can help me get the fuck out of here! I thought. The pain I felt earlier nearly vanished when I entered the room. I let go of the wall and staggered to a nearby table, vision still a bit blurry. The sudden noises startled them and they both spun around in a 180° turn. They both got wide eyed and stared at me. The big guy just stared at me, stunned. The other began to pale to a light pink pallid color. His expression was absolute horror.

I lifted my hand as if to grab at them. I was going to say 'what the hell are you just standing there for? Let's get the hell out!' I was going to tell them that there was a hive nest nearby. Hell, I was even going to tell them the the munitions card was somewhere else, and that I would help them find it. But…

The only thing that came out of my mouth that a disgruntled, short hiss: "HHHHUUUUURRRRSSSHHHHHKKK…."

What the fu… I thought. Then I look at my extended hand, and realized that it wasn't a hand. It was my fucking claw. I felt my heart stop once more, and I stared back at them in a mixture of both shock and fear. I had forgotten I was a goddamn xenomorph.

For a few sickening moments, the only thing I could hear was my own heartbeat. A cold pang of fear gripped my spine when I saw what the big guy was holding. In his hand was a Model-PX 418 pulse rifle. Old series, but durable enough to last a long time. It holds about 99 rounds and shoots 5.92 mm rounds, enough to rip through soft flesh in less than three seconds.

Fuck… I thought.