Hey guys! I want to apologize for Not updating in MONTHS. I hope none of you had hired Hitmen to take me out for not posting... But really though, i mean it. There's just a LOT of shit I'm going through that's preventing me from writing. nothing personal or anything, just a crapton of factors forces me to NOT write, like the midterms i just finished, as well as the two SIX FUCKING PAGE ESSAYS I had to write within two weeks. And to make matters worse... I had to re-write the ENTIRE chapter because the damn motherboard on my PC died. So... Sorry, I guess. But to make up for it, I've written more than 1,000 words past my 4,000 limit for all to read. So, without further ado... ENJOY! Also, don't take any part of this chapter as a sexual thing when you read the flash back. It's purely science. You'll see what I mean.

7 years ago.

"Yes, Mr. Wolfe?" He said. He didn't even bother to look at me, all he did was read reports and statements given to him. "This better be important, and not a bunch bullshit like what Michael Anders always gives me."

"I-it's important. Sir." I replied.

He dropped the papers and pinched his brow with a loud sigh. "PLEASE don't tell me another one of you fucking idiots died from another Xenomorph incident… How many goddamn times do I have to tell you all for you guys to get it right? MAKE SURE THEY ARE RESTRAINED BEFORE GOING INTO THE CHAMBER. Are you all THAT fucking incompetent?"

"N-no sir! No incidents," I assured him.

"Then what is it? I'm busy." He told me, resuming his reading. "What, did another working joe make you piss your pants just by looking at you? Any lab equipment damaged? What? I don't have all day, Wolfe." I limped into his office and cleared my throat, preparing to present him with the new information I had just discovered.

"Sir, I discovered something about the anatomy of specimen 12–67G." I said. I opened my mouth to add more, but was interrupted by his waving hand.

"Yes, yes, I know that they have sharp claws and a tail. Nothing new. Goodbye." He stated, still not looking at me.

"Erm… Sir, it's about the… Anatomy of their NETHER REGIONS. We've noticed something about it, sir…" I told him, feeling a tad bit embarrassed.

He froze, and slowly fixed his gaze in my direction. I knew this would grab his attention. Not that I was saying he was some sick pervert or anything, he was just fascinated about how they reproduced and all. He was head of the biology team, after all. He neatly placed the papers in a pile and folded his hands. "Ok, I'll bite. What did you discover?"

I stood as straight as I could. "Well, as I discovered-"

"As YOU discovered? You seem cocky. This should be interesting. Let's hear it," he interrupted. I nervously coughed in my fist and continued.

"Yes. Erm, as I studied their anatomy, I noticed something different than the previous reports of the structured parts of their uterus. Physically, that is, not really pertaining to their genetics in any way shape or form." I explained. "Now, the only reference we have to the currently recorded Xenomorphs for comparison is specimen 1–01A, or Lola, the first Xenomorph ever recorded."

"What about her?" He said. He sat up in his chair and stared directly at me. His voice was deathly calm, without a single trace of anger or resentment.

"Well, like all living things, the Xenomorphs can change. Nothing major was really recorded, but small, almost insignificant adaptations have occurred within the Xenomorphs anatomy," I explained. I opened my folder and pulled up a copy of Lola's physical structures along with the new ultrasounds and PET scans I had recently taken for comparison.

Without blinking, he took the pictures from me after I handed them over. "I don't see any… What…?" He brought them both closer to his face. "I… Wow. I'm impressed." I couldn't help but feel a small lump of warm pride raise into my chest. "Did someone help you discover and research this or was this just your doing?"

"Just me, sir," I replied. "I've been looking into this for about three months now, and I just confirmed my theory just over an hour ago." I forced myself to keep a low tone to contain my excitement. It wasn't every day something new came up when looking into these aliens.

"So what are you saying…?" He asked, visibly curious. He looked at me with furrowed brows.

"Sir…" I said, taking in a deep breath. "These creatures… They are able and eligible to mate… With a male of their kind." I waited for his reaction. He looked away and stared down at the floor for a second. Then, with a flash of cold, sudden anger, he spoke.

"Bullshit. They reproduce ASEXUALLY, not sexually you fucking cunt." He growled, slamming my research on his desk angrily. This didn't discourage me. Instead, this only got me more excited.

"They are able to reproduce asexually, yes." I said, agreeing with him. "BUT… As I tested and looked more and more into it, they produce egg cells… Which contains only THREE-FOURTHS of their DNA. It's difficult to extract these egg cells, but it is possible. Also, if they reproduce asexually, how is there any genetic variation at all?" I was literally shivering in scientific delight.

"How?" He asked flatly. By now, he just sat there, expressionless, listening to me ramble. His eyes were the only things that showed immense curiosity.

"Ok. You see, once the egg cells fully develop into eggs inside the excreted egg sac of a mature queen, it is laid. This we know. The parasitic arachnids that come from them contain only one Xenomorph embryo each. Again, this we know. BUT… That embryo contains only three quarters of the DNA needed for it to grow. So… How would it develop without the rest of the genetic information needed…?" I shifted my weight onto my prosthetic leg for better comfort.

"And so, I came to this theory: the rest of the DNA comes from human beings," I said. "More specifically, any living creature the parasite chooses to become the host. The idea of this theory came to me when I read the reports of an undocumented, rogue parasite infected a dog. I studied the research and reports, and came to find that it's general features were more or less the same, though it had a few SIGNIFICANT differences when compared to the other Xenomorphs, especially when in regard to the behavior of the specimen. For example, it's intelligence was very low compared to the already primitive Xenomorphs that we have, though it was more hostile and dangerous because of how much it relied on its instincts over the others, not to mention it's strange loyalty to a certain human who has spent some time with it."

"I see…" He looked away and was deep in thought. He had a mixed expression for a while, partly out of disbelief, partly curious. There was a glint of excitement in his eyes as well, though it was a bit… Creepy. But I couldn't blame him. Something like this could change our views on Xenomorphs entirely.

He shifted in his seat into a more comfortable position. He then neatly placed the open folder on a small stack of forms that he deemed to be of importance. He didn't even bother to close it, he kept it open to the comparisons I made. "Good work, Phil. This… This is good. I'll… Read it later and decide what to do with it. For now, don't tell anyone of this. There needs to be more research before we can make any of this official."

I opened my mouth to protest but was immediately cut off. "DONT! Don't argue with me. Last time we had a theory from a scientist from YOUR field that stated that it was possible to neutralize the corrosive elements in the Xenomorphs plasma. Obviously, he was wrong, despite how much he said it was true, and his stubbornness led to his death by Xenomorph blood corrosion. I'LL test it. May take weeks, maybe months, but I'll test your theory, and THEN I may implement this in the next status report to the head of the company."

"Yes sir." I said, respecting the pliant regulations. It saddened me a little, but I was still excited. Even if it takes a while, my theory will test positive. I should know, I researched it, and even went as far as use CAT scans, MRIs and even ultrasound on drugged Xenomorphs to remap their entire anatomy. "Thank you, sir."

"Now go, I have much to do." He told me. "This is interesting, really… Very interesting…"

High and proud, I turned and began to walk out of Mr. Anders office. I limped out of the office and passed the window with a disfigured bounce in my step. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anders smile as he stared at the CAT scan I provided to him. Very faintly, I heard him whisper: "Yes… Very interesting…"

I couldn't help but think on why the hell I felt no remorse for the marine. Losing a life like that… That's tough for a family. Through the casual trek to the kitchens, I thought about how his family would react to the news of his death. Maybe his family wouldn't care like mine? Maybe he didn't have a family at all? That was what most of the marines were when they joined the marine Corp., men and women who were thrown to the side like rats, some even had nothing to live for. My reason was obvious: I wanted to be the father who gave their service to the American military. I wanted my son to look up to me, to want to follow my footsteps only to move much further in life than I could ever hope to accomplish.

Needless to say that my life was hell after the incident. The truth was that it was no ones fault, not even mine. I stepped on a mine by accident. I wasn't running from a fight, I was evacuating the area because I spotted someone wielding an HVG–23 at me and my unit, a primitive yet effective missile launcher. Little did I know that it wasn't even loaded, nor did I know that it was just an old, corrupted synthetic cleaning the battlefield during a fight. It had a similar uniform as the enemy, only without the armor. I was a soldier, but now look at me. I'm a sick and twisted joke of nature itself. I'm a freak. A MONSTER…

I stopped in front of the entrance of the kitchens and sat down. The fuck am I doing? I thought. I'm a fucking psychopath…Why in the hell would I want to feed this fucking body? I placed the PDA down and laid on my side. I ignored my stomachs protest and curled myself into the most comfortable position I could do. Surprisingly, I moved my tail. Though, I don't know how I did it. I tried to move it once more. Nothing. I didn't bother trying to move it again. Instead, I just sat there, in the best fetal position I could with a protesting stomach.

The only sounds I heard were echoes of distant activity. It's ominous to hear them when one is alone, but affected me little. Those sounds were literally just other Xenomorphs screeching and hunting. Sometimes just falling rocks and whatnot. Upon knowing this, stacked with me knowing I was alone, I felt no fear. I was just… Miserable. And hungry…

I found it amazing how I was able to doze off, given the fact that I had no eyes. It was strange, really. One moment I was staring off into space, the next there was total darkness. But what made it even more queer was that I could still see. IN MY SLEEP. It's like a still image camera stuck on a tripod, taking one, long, continuous picture. The image of the hallway seemed to burn into the back of my skull. And then…

I heard whispers. I couldn't really hear what they were saying, mostly because there was a massive amount of them all speaking at once. The words were all jumbled up and unrecognizable... The words were nothing but gibberish to me; mixed pronouns and torn adjectives seemed to creep into the depths of my mind. Not eating at me, or taunting in any way. Just… Quiet. Comforting, even. I liked it… It reminded me of when I was taken into a room of sorts with the strange covering. The slumber I had was amazing. And that voice… I couldn't hear that voice. It was comforting… Warming an many ways. But there is another voice… Not the one from before. This one was completely incomprehensible. But this one spoke loudly… Not deafening, just sounded close… I could feel it coo to me… Feel it's curiosity…

I jolted awake. I heard an audible growl escape my gut as the ache hit me hard. But that wasn't what woke me up though. I felt something push at my side gently, along with a cold wave of unnatural thoughts brush my mind. I then smelt something pungent, like a strangely familiar mixture of sweat and hormones with a touch of urine. And I recognized it…

Groggy, I lazily lifted my head and began to turn my gaze away from the wall. I immediately jumped up in surprise and slammed myself to the wall when another Xenomorph shoved it's face near mine. I stood there, one clawed foot inches off the ground in a pose that looked as if I was caught in a spotlight. The alien rose on its hind legs and faced me, it's spear-headed tail waving slowly behind it. In her maw was… A hand… A HUMAN hand…

The fingers were slightly dis colored, giving it a grayish look. Other than that it looked as fresh as orange juice in the summer. Hell, the blood was still dripping from the jagged bone sticking out of the end like a broken pipe. She took a step closer towards me and plugged her face near mine once more. I was plagued with that sweet fucking smell again. The sweet smell ofblood. Human blood.

I shied away from it as best I could. Though all I could do was move my face an extra inch away from the hand. My gut growled viciously with primal hunger and my nostrils flared for the scent of the fresh essence of life. I whimpered at the raging urges I felt, wanting so badly for this mental torture to end. Hell, even when she dropped the hand at my feet I still felt the need to swallow it whole.

Purring deeply, she pressed her entire body against mine and dragged herself against my chest and limbs. I wasn't sure why she did so, nor was I sure if only a few other Xenos did the same. This type of behavior was strange to me, mostly because such behaviors were never recorded. I stood stiff and waited for her to finish, wondering what in the hell she was thinking as she rubbed up against me. After a few moments, she turned tail and left, a little bounce in each four-legged step. I looked down at the hand and involuntarily let out a snarl.

Fuck it… I can't focus like this. I thought. Stepping over the hand, I went towards the door and picked up the PDA on the way. I tapped the side panel and opened up the numbered keypad. A while ago, after a few months working in this underground facility, I had gotten my hands on the "skeleton key." It was nothing more than a password used for testing the machines, doors and certain terminals based on their performance. Very few knew what it was, and in order to get the pass-code, you'd have to pay cash to someone who does. Luckily enough, I found out what the passcode was after some idiot typed it in a document on a terminal. I typed in the user TESTTEST7071 and the pass-code frootie123. It was a rather comical test code, but he'll it worked like a charm. Every time I used it, I always silently thanked the laziness of the technicians that actually built and programmed these pieces of tech.

With a quick VSST! the door slid upwards and revealed the room beyond. I was immediately welcomed with a wave of warm, damp musk as I stepped in. The scent wasn't pretty, but the humid atmosphere washing over me made me feel comfortable. Looking around, I spotted upturned tables and cracked bowls near the far corner of the cafe. I clutched the tablet to my chest and made strides toward the kitchens, unknowingly sniffing the air for any sort of food.

I paid no attention to the closing door behind me as I neared the back door to the culinary space the chefs worked to feed the scientists and marines. I pushed the door and poked my head inside the room, surveying the after effects of the two-week-old reactor explosion. Surprisingly enough, there were hardly any damage to the walls and floor, other than maybe a crack on the ceiling. I then spied something shiny in my peripheral vision.

I walked inside and bent over a greenish-gray duffle bag. I placed the PDA on a nearby counter and lifted the worn bag a few inches off the ground, testing its weight. Some metal objects clanked together as I lifted it, and even more so when I set it back down. I hooked the tip of my claw onto the zipper and carefully pulled it to the side to open it. There were a few useless items in it, like documents and papers that held no significance in any way. There was an empty pistol in an inner pocket that was too small for my hand. I immediately thought of the magazine I found a while earlier when I was searching for some shotgun shells, but figured it would be useless due to the fact that this pistol is a 9mm and the magazine in the offices is filled with larger caliber rounds. Maybe a magnum, though I wasn't sure.

I let out a hiss of excitement when I pulled out a can. It was a bit dented, and the label was near falling off, but looked like it was just taken off the shelf. I looked at the label and struggled to to read. The words were a blur to me, though I was able to make out what it said. Sounding it out in my head, I read each letter individually and pieced them together one by one.

I let out a cry of joy after rereading the label six times. Holy fuck! A full can of pork and beans! I shouted in my mind. I held the can close to my chest, elated as all hell. Unopened cans of any type of food were a rare commodity among the entirety of the colonies. Our main source of food came from indoor farms and agricultural domes near the green sea of this damned planet. These were so rare that even the directors of most colonies couldn't get their hands on these.

My slob dripped from my maw and onto the air tight tin can. I wiped it off as best I could using a piece of worn cloth I found and set it aside for later. I rummaged through the bag some more but couldn't find much of anything else other than a half-empty bottle of water. I ripped off the top of the bottle with my teeth and poured the contents down my throat. The near icy cold fluids slid down my throat easily and took the sharpness of my hunger down a little, though it wasn't much.

Tossing the ripped bottle away, I stepped over the bag and went over to the counter of the kitchen. As I walked around, I spotted the small door leading to the emergency rations fridge. As I expected, the keypad was right next to the door, about three feet off the ground. Another thing I expected to see was the input port for the PDA.

I pulled the wire out of the little compartment on the back of the data assistant and plugged it in. I waited a full minute for the tablet to connect to the mainframe and pulled up the main user account using the command prompt. I logged out of the marines account and entered my user and password. After a few more minutes of verification and loading screens, the main screen came up displaying:

Welcome, Phil Wolfe.

Nice, I thought. I then began to refresh and update all software and maps that was saved on my account. Unfortunately, I didn't exactly have the COMPLETE maps of the entire colony I was assigned. I was allowed in only a few restricted areas that were locked with mid to low leveled security. Luckily, my security clearance allows me to open this door.

After I typed in and verified the open command, the screen instantly reported ACCESS GRANTED and the door slid upwards. I walked into the refrigerated room and switched on the light. I was blinded for a few seconds before I turned the dial down to the lowest light setting allowed. To my disappointment, it seems as if the reserves had been recently raided, as most of the food was missing and opened cans and boxes littered the floor. Though there was still some left on the shelves, but they were the MREs for the marines. Disgusting…

I was just about to walk out when my sight detected something white and smooth. It was covered with garbage and torn ration seals that hid most of the object. I was surprised after I cleared the task away to reveal a fully intact white box with an undamaged seal. Without a moment to waste in this damned cold, I pulled the plastic container off the shelf and walked out of the refrigerated room.

I set it down on a small table and stood back for a moment to examine its features. It was obviously plastic and white, though it had a few scratches and dents on all sides. Didn't look old, just damaged. Maybe the emergency rations room was restocked a little before the explosion? I wondered. Eh… I don't even care. I just want to open it. I need a knife to break the seal though…

I turned away from the opaque container and went over to the kitchen drawers. I spent the next few minutes opening and closing empty drawers all around the kitchen. Hell, I even looked in all the cupboards and sinks. The only utensils I found were spoons and dull butter knives. With a frustrated grunt, I snatched one of the butter knives with a paw and walked over to the box. God this is going to be frustrating… I thought. Each and every seal was made with a special tape made out of a mixture of plastic and rubber. It's basically liquid nails. With a pained whine, I got the knife ready at one of the corners of the box to begin.

I froze and stared at my hands. My black… CLAWED hands… And immediately I felt angry at my own stupidity. Here I am looking for a knife… While I have a pair of FUCKING CLAWS. Lethal, razor sharp claws DESIGNED for cutting through thick flesh… God I'm an idiot. I threw the butter knife away and extended one of my sharp digits. I poked a small hole into one of the corners and slid my claw along the tough tape with ease. I can't exactly describe the feeling, but the closest I can get to a proper explanation is a hot knife slicing through warm butter. After I finished with one edge of the top, I began working my way to the next until I had cut all sides.

My lips pulled back and I involuntarily showed my teeth as a way of smiling. I kept my head back a little so I wouldn't drool over the contents of the box and make an unsavory mess. Within the box were a collection of little cans with a single, broken can opener. Don't know how the can opener broke, but it was now useless. After throwing it behind me, I pulled out a light, grayish airtight bag. It was VERY flexible, and seemed to contain some kind of putty or something. I didn't bother to read the label, as I'll save it for later.

Most of the contents were just canned fruit, a few being cans of spam and corned beef. I put those in a special pile. I was then brought to another compartment of the box, sealed once more. This seal was just a line of industrial tape, which was no match for my claw. A deep, soft rumbling escaped from me when I saw the bottles. I pulled up one of the gallons of milk and read its expiration date. Ah milk. I thought. Another rarity for one to indulge himself into… Or her…

Milk wasn't exactly rare, but nor was it at all common. A full ten ounces pull cost about one hundred credits, which is ten dollars in American currency. But a full gallon? Priceless. Unfortunately, I looked at the expiration date and it was a few days past due. I set it to the side and pulled out the second gallon. This one expires next week… I thought. That is, if the date on the PDA is correct… I looked at the last gallon and saw that it expired tomorrow.

Well… Might as well drink some… I thought. Besides, milk has fat so it'll help me get full. I took the gallon that expires the next day and twisted the cap open to the best of my ability. I ended up lopping the red cap off by accident and spilling a few drops. I placed my snout to the spout and gave a quick sniff. It smelled… Chalky. Sort of dry. Not bad, just… Weird. Though it had a strange hint of richness to it. I was about to lift the gallon to my lips and take a sip, but decided against, mostly because I didn't exactly have any cheeks.

I set it down and went towards the sink. There was a little bucket there that was stained with dust. I picked it out and went to the duffle bag, then I began to wipe the inside clean with the piece of cloth I found earlier. With a satisfied grunt, I threw the dirty cloth away and spun around to face the open gallon. I carefully picked up the container and slowly poured its contents into the bucket. The pure white fluids splashed little as it hit the bottom of the giant cup I was going to use.

That done, I tossed the empty gallon away and grabbed the expired gallon of milk. I took the container filled with the rotten fluids towards the garbage chute and dumped the chunky milk away. After a moment, I made my way to the bucket and stared at the opaque liquid before me. After a minute or so, I cautiously lowered my face to the bucket and breathed in a quick whiff of the smell it made. The smell itself was strange. It smelt dry and chalky, yet kept its richness. It smelled like a piece of wood soaked in sugar water and dried in the sun for a few hours. It wasn't bad, but nor was it good.

What will it taste like…? I wondered. It was a good question, too. What WILL it taste like? Everything so far seemed different from this perspective. Would it be similar if I was human? Seeing as how the smell isn't that good, I doubt I would even consider a small drop after a sip. Nervous, I gave it one more sniff, and dipped my snout into the liquid. It felt deathly cold and a tad bit thick, like the watery version of eggnog. I sucked in a deep breath and submerged my entire face in the liquid. I sucked in the milk through my hollow cheeks and teeth and swallowed a small amount.

I stepped away with my jaw hanging open, trembling. I felt the cold fluid wash over my inner jaws, slide down my throat smoothly and hit my stomach. I swayed to and fro as the taste of the milk plastered my face and lips and mix with my saliva, dripping onto the ground. The platters the droplets made echoed throughout kitchens and vibrated my internal eardrums. I began to shake and hyperventilate mildly. "HURSHH… SHAA… S-SHAA…" I panted.

OMIGOD! I exclaimed in my head. I darted forward and dunked as much as my elongated head in the bucket as possible. I began to feverishly quaff the milk down, holding my breath as I did so. Within seconds there was barely an inch of milk left in the bucket form my heavy gulping. I then picked up the damn thing and tipped the edge to my lips, spilling some of the sweet, honey-tasting essence into my gullet.

I NEED MORE. I thought. I then snatched the second gallon and ripped the top off with my teeth, only to dump all of its contents into the bucket. I dipped my entire face into the bucket once more, guzzling as much of the milk as I could. After I hit the one inch mark, I lifted the bucket up to my cheekless mouth and tipped the last cup in a half of what was left down my throat. I felt large, cool droplets of milk slide off my chin and drip down my neck and chest. It felt a bit cold on my skin, but I didn't care.

Holy shit… Was all I could think of. That was the greatest drink… I've ever had… With my face plastered with milk, I turned away from the bucket and took a deep breath. My hunger still lingered, but the milk had taken the edge off, allowing me to think properly again. I went over to the "special" pile I made that were composed of canned meats next to the fruits. I picked up the oldest can, the first one I had found when I entered the kitchen. I picked up the can of pork n' beans and lifted it up high to the bright (or at least it was bright to me) light of the room. Though it wasn't as severe as before, my gut ached still, wanting to be filled with anything even barely resembling food. I reveled at the rusted can, admiring the simple details of the dog on it representing bush's company.

Before I could think about opening it, I heard shuffling towards the door I came through.

"… Yeah, but that fucking idiot opened the door and let a damn synthetic through and-" the man stopped as soon as he saw me. He stared at me with wide, brown eyes like a cow staring into the eyes of a lion. He was wearing torn, gray pants and a worn button down. He was skinny and average in height, though he looked a tad bit lean for his size.

"Hey, move already! We don't want those Xenos to…" A feminine voice sounded. She pushed passed the man and her voice trailed off when her gaze met mine. They both turned pallid and looked to be in shock.

Fuck… I thought. Not again…

Again, I apologize for the shitty ending to this chapter (in case if you don't like it, of course). I'll try to upload more and write as much as possible, as i now have some more free time. Please leave a comment, any and all valid feedback/criticism is welcome here.