Hey guys! As usual, I'd like to apologize for not updating sooner. I've been busy blah blah I have work blah blah excuses... Excuses... Video games aaaaaaand excuses. Well, enjoy!

Chapter 10

I held my shotgun close to my chest, ready to advance forward on my captains orders. Me and a few other Marines ducked low, avoiding suppressive enemy fire as best we could.

A hostile in the battle uniform jumped out and aimed his rifle at us, shouting profuse language at us in foreign tongue. Before he could unload a hail of lead at us, I rushed towards him and smacked his cheek with the butt of my 12-Gage, forcing him down to the ground. I kicked at his arm as hard as I could, making his primitive rifle slide a few feet away on the dirt. I aimed my gun at his face, watching his expression go from rage to terror in a matter of milliseconds before painting the ground a bloody color of shredded flesh and bone.

"INTO THE FORT!" The captain screamed at us. "BLAST EVERY LAST FUCKER IN THERE UNTIL NONE ARE LEFT!" Me, and over a dozen men shouted in agreement and rushed in head first, pumped with staggering amounts adrenaline.

I was the third man to enter after the first. With an animalistic war cry, I charged in, kicking the first hostile I saw with my slightly blurred vision square in the chest. I then flicked the gun downwards and blew half of his head off, spraying the remains of his cranium on the ground, making a distorted spatter that looked to be a delta at the end of a river. The other men unloaded their weapons upon everything that moved before them.

The "fort" was cramped, supplying only a space of three hundred square meters. Most of the space was taken up by spent supplies and used rifle shells and 12-gage hulls, while some was taken up by a fifty caliber heavy machine gun. The manned turret was currently occupied by two men, one who was feeding a belt of ammo into the gun while the other executed the weapons fire. The one sitting in the chair, operating the machine gun, was already dead, after having one of my fellow marines empty an entire mag into his torso. The one that fed the gun was on the ground, bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds in his abdomen.

"CLEAR!" The platoon leader shouted. All the men started to scavenge as much ammo as they could from the mass of dead bodies. The captain entered and began to bark at us.

"ALRIGHT!" He shouted. All of us immediately stopped in our place and turned our attention to the captain. "Whatever supplies and munitions you can carry, pick em' up. Three of you lucky bastards will then bring the said supplies back to base. JIM! RHODE! CLOWN! You three will bring this shit back. Is that understood?"

"SIR YES SIR!" The three men shouted. Within minutes, everyone gathered the usable supplies and gave them to the three soldiers. The three took the supplies and left immediately, holding their sidearm in one hand with the provisions in their arms.

I supplied my gun with two shells, not wanting to be short on readied ammunition just in case. Though I couldn't exactly hear him, the captain shouted once more. Everyone readied their weapons and exited the little fort to proceed to the next. The captain called my name:

"WOLF!" He shouted. I perked up, giving the captain my undivided attention. "Take lead and advance to the next fort. Hear that? MOVE OUT!"

"SIR YES SIR!" I screamed, kicking down the door opposite from the entrance. The first thing I spotted was was a sign written in mandarin, which was completely incomprehensible to me. I hesitated, unsure of what it meant. Though the picture under it looked familiar... I looked to be a little bowl, it's rims planted on the ground with with a little nub on the top...

"Wolf, I SAID MOVE IT!" The captain barked. I immediately snapped out of my minor trance and ran forward, ducking low to avoid incoming enemy fire. I took a glance back, making sure others were following. All did, except for Duke, the Asian-American that joined us. His faced paled when he saw the sign I examined not a minute ago, and he shouted something to the captain. Before he could say anything, I looked forward and spotted a figure holding a massive object in one hand. To my horror, the figure wore the damaged, yet obvious red uniform the enemy had... And he was holding a missile launcher.

"HV-RPG! TAKE COVER!" I screamed, turning to my right to take cover.

"ALL OF YOU GET BACK!" The captain roared. "PHIL GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! YOURE ON A FUCKING MINEFIELD...!"

Oh my god... I thought. I tried to stop, but I was running too fast. I spun around and tripped on a rock, slamming the side of my head on something metallic and cold. I lifted my head, only to hear a little click. Oh god... the mine began to beep slowly, climbing to an erratic rhythm in less than a second.

OH MY FUCKING G- I didn't even finish the thought. I jumped up and attempted to sprint to safety, dropping my gun in the process. I could still hear the mine beep...

DEET... DEET... DEET, DEET, DEET DEET DEETDEETDEETDEETDEE-

I was barely a few feet away before the explosion. The crudely made mine exploded with an unbelievable amount of power, and I was thrown over a dozen feet away from the impact. Everything was black for a few seconds... And the only thing my ears picked up was a constant ringing that would drive a sound minded man insane.

My eyes fluttered open, and my blurred vision detected some of my fellow soldiers scurrying to my aid. Over a half dozen hostiles or so ran to us and began to shoot. I saw my captain get shot in the shoulder and fall to the ground, while three others were immediately killed by close range enemy fire. The fight ended in seconds, with with an injured captain and four soldiers dead.

The Asian American took one look at me and began to throw up, while another averted his gaze for a moment. I was confused. I didn't understand what was going on, or what had just happened. I felt only minor cuts over my gut and chest, though I felt my leg left leg ache terribly.

Two others came to my side, and began to talk to me. I couldn't hear them well... It was as if my ears were submerged in water. I did my best to make out what he was saying:

"You're ok... You're gonna be ok..." He said. After a moment or two, I feel myself being lifted off the ground. My left leg felt so light...

I felt my right eye ache... My left eye burned, but I could still see from it, even though it was blurry. I lifted a weak hand to my face to touch my eye... In the way was a shard of metal. My heart began to race. As I was being lifted, I saw to my right, a mangled leg. The knee was torn open and exposed a shattered knee cap. The foot of the leg was completely gone, and the leg began to leak blood everywhere. There was a blood smeared trail coming from the stump of the leg... Leading to me.

Within moments, I was outside and placed gently on the ground. A field medic appeared out of nowhere and slipped out a purple, funny looking cord. I knew immediately what it was. It was a tourniquet, made to physically stop severe bleeding. In my dizzying state, I looked down and examined my legs in horror. My lower right leg was bent awkwardly in a sixty degree angle, while my other leg was missing...

"My leg..." I croaked. I couldn't hear myself... All I could manage was a small collection of words. "My... M-my leg..." I felt tears leak from my good eye, clouding my already distorted vision. Whimpering, I looked up, and stared away into the distance. I saw the same figure from earlier... The one that held the rocket launcher... Its movements were a bit jerky, though seemed to move fluently. Its abdomen was ripped near its hips, displaying some of its inner circuitry. It was a fucking synth...

0-0-0-0-0-0

I wiped some meat off of my maw with a greasy claw before digging back into the can. Drinking was no problem, as all I had to do was dip my face in to the liquid I would want to drink and suck it up. Though eating was a bit of a challenge for me: the very anatomy was different as hell and confusing to a large degree. Chewing was useless, as the meat would only just fall out, not to mention the extra set of jaws in my mouth was almost uncontrollable.

It was all very strange to me. The inner jaws detected taste very well, as they are covered in thousands of taste buds to increase the sense of taste. In a way, it feels like a tongue, albeit a very strong, and somewhat stiff tongue. As I attempted to eat with some success, I would involuntarily try to stick out my tongue to lick up the grease, only to barely miss snapping one of my digits off by accident.

Instead of chewing, I figured that an easier way to eat would just be to swallow chunks of the preserved, ground flesh after almost every bite. Me being so used to chewing, it couldn't help but softly gnash my teeth together in a feeble attempt to naturally soften my food for its inevitable digestion.

I observed my surroundings as I fed this hungry stomach of mine. With backwards bent legs, I sat myself down like how a cat or dog would do so for maximum comfort, all the while one arm and paw supported my upper body weight while the other held the little can of spam.

The little snack was amazingly delicious; I found myself lost in the salty taste of this tiny meal of mine, doing my best to stave off the animalistic nature hidden within myself in order to savor what my taste buds bode as delicious. Casually looking around, I glanced at most of the objects around me, though none of my surroundings were of any real interest. It was mostly garbage anyway, littered in even some of the most ridiculous of places like worthless, crushed cans and torn papers stuffed in the cracks of the walls.

I couldn't help but wonder how in the hell they got there in the first place. Who in their right mind would stuff trash in the walls? I thought.

I carefully tore the can more, exposing the last bit of meat for me to eat. I tipped it to my near-lipless mouth and let the provision fall into the entrance of my inner jaws and felt the greasy flesh slide easily down my throat.

By now, the hunger was gone, and I counted at least four cans that I feverishly devoured. That left me with about seven cans of food. I wasn't full, but my stomach no longer bothered me, leaving me with a clear head.

I took out a rag from the little sack I found and cleaned my hands... My claws, as best I could. I didn't bother wiping my mouth, as most of the grease dripped off along with my saliva. I don't understand why I keep salivating. It just doesn't make any sense. The only logical thing I can think of is it helps revitalize the flesh around my lips, so that they don't crack when dry. But I decided to not pay much mind to it, and instead focus on myself for the time being.

Packing whatever belongings I had with me, I approached the door that led to the third sector, where the commissaries and living quarters were located. The motion sensor detected me, and immediately the side-locks on the door unlatched and the door itself slid open. I passed the door and made my way down the corridor.

The floor began to go through a transition of sorts. From where I started, there was only minimal trash littered on the ground. But as I kept on, I began to see more and more of it, even cracks on the walls and debris the size of small boulders.

I arrived to the room, and was surprised that some were still a bit intact. Most of the rooms were completely destroyed, and were sealed off to prevent others from further doing any more damage. But other rooms, the ones that only suffered minor damage, were only blocked off by plastic wrap and safety tape.

My room is somewhere around here... I thought to myself. Room 52-B... 52-B... I kept a slow, steady pace, passing room after damaged room to reach my private chambers. I maneuvered around some of the debris pretty easily. With this body, I feel I could pretty much snake through a lot of things, provided that I could fit at all, anyways.

Walking now felt natural to me, despite the disjointed knees and clawed toes I had. As I walked and moved around the large rocks, I could hear the familiar dragging noise that emanated from my tail making contact with the ground. It was annoying at first, but now it's nothing more than white noise to me now. But what pissed me off the most was my mouth. The fucking thing won't stop drooling, no matter how hard I tried. The little rag I had was already soaked wet as is. What's worse is that even when I try to wring out the saliva from it, somehow it's stays saturated. It's something I'm going to have to deal with for now.

I kept checking the PDA's map, seeing if I'm going the right way. Every time I check the PDA, I made sure it stayed away from my face, for fear my dripping slobber would get it wet, rendering it useless. I know all standard PDA's were waterproof, but this one was damaged, and is vulnerable to anything thrown at it.

I stopped at a door way that was labeled 43-B. It was incredibly damaged, and it was a wonder how the letters were left even slightly intact after the explosions. The second number was missing the leg, and the hyphen was worn to the point where it was barely visible. I was surprised at how I could read it at all, as the entire place was barely lit with mostly damaged, dim lighting on the ceiling.

Wait, that's not right. I thought. The map says I'm on the second floor, where the rooms should be in the fifties, not the forties. I guess the map needs to be recalibrated. Judging by my own common sense, my room is next to the room above 44-B on the right. Unfortunately, the geniuses behind the planning and construction of these colonies thought it'd be a great idea to only instal elevators and take stairs out of the equation. And now there's no way up, because all of the fucking elevators are either out of commission, dangerously dammaged and hardly working, or completely destroyed.

I ducked my head a little and entered the room. As expected, the entire place was ransacked and looted by survivors. For the first time I felt a little at ease that I was alone. Nothing to hurt me, no one to shoot at me, no aliens to chase me... Well, not anymore, given to the monstrosity I've become.

I was chased by monsters once, I thought. And now I am one, and they don't chase me anymore. Great... With a spit exerting sigh, I explored the room. It wasn't very big, but that didn't mean it was cramped either. Torn clothes were everywhere, and the wall had some old, dried blood on it. The smell was faint and easy to ignore, but the other smells is what bothered me. Sweat, old macaroni, and rotting paper attacked my nostrils. It was far from pleasant, but tolerable.

I entered the little kitchen area first and checked the cupboards. Nothing but dented metal cups and shattered plates were present. Opening the drawers, I found seven spoons, two bent forks and a butter knife. I didn't bother picking up such useless objects. The fridge was mostly empty, save for a jar of moldy mayo and a bottle of watery ketchup. Since there was no power going into the fridge, everything was warmer than a bitch in heat. I was about to move onto the freezer above the fridge door when I stopped. Etched into the handle was DONT OPEN. The writing was pretty small, but the one who carved the message made it as obvious as possible. The hell could be in there? I thought.

I reached the handle with my paw and hooked a claw on it. Before I could even touch it, I snatched my limb away after hearing something inside of the freezer. It lasted no more than a split second beforehand was even near the damn thing. I lifted up one claw and tapped the freezer door once. A series of tiny taps responded. What the hell...?

After a full minute, I decided to say 'fuck it' and take a chance for once. I stayed as casual as possible when I placed my paw on the fridge handle. Basically barging in, I clicked the unlock button and I flew open the door and peered inside. The first thing that hit me was the absolute, terrible, vile stench that quite literally blew straight into my face. I needed to back away for a second to breathe in a fresh supply of oxygen. Going back, this time holding my breath, I looked inside, morbidly curious as to what was locked inside the freezer. But all I saw was a little, pale hunk of flesh in the middle, with a thick, tough looking string attached to it.

There's nothing... I thought. What was doing the tap... The mound of flesh twitched and I jumped back immediately, keeping the freezers contents in my sight. For a minute or two, nothing happened. I went closer and studied the object. After a few seconds of inspection, I saw the string flip up and stab at the inside of the freezer wall, generating a TAP! What in the hell-

"SKEERRREEEEE!" I screamed. The mound of flesh sprung up launched itself onto the top of my head. I threw myself onto the wall and shook my head feverishly. The little mound of flesh was thrown across the room and landed on the ground. The 'string' attached to it... It was a fucking tail. SOMEONE LOCKED A GODDAMN FACEHUGGER IN THE FREEZER!

The creature, severely dazed, scuttled around in circles on the ground, occasionally bumping into obstacles like rocks and table legs. Eventually, in its seemingly drunken state, it squeaked and waddled out through the door, disappearing amongst the rubble. God fucking dammit... I thought to myself, taking a deep breath.

Shaking my head, I looked around the rooms of the chamber for anything of interest. Unsurprisingly, I found nothing, other than a large hole in the wall of the bathroom. This must lead to another floor. I thought. After pointing out the obvious to myself, I hefted my bag and trudged in front of the toilet. I stood up as tall as I could and tried to reach the hole. Even with this amazingly tall body, I couldn't reach it. It was still a foot or two away. Grumbling, I placed a foot onto the toilet and tried again. I was able to reach with one paw this time, which made me happy for once that something was going my way.

I climbed onto the toilet, this time with both feet resting on the rim of the mechanical latrine. It was a bit strange though. I glanced at my feet and saw that they were clamping onto the rim of the toilet, like how a birds claws would on a branch. Ignoring it, I stood tall and grasped the lip of the hole with both paws, preparing to heft myself up into the bathroom above. but before I could do anything at all, I heard a sickening crack come from the toilet.

I glanced down to see what the sound was. I didn't even have a second to look, as the entire bowl of the toiled shattered under my weight and collapsed. I felt like a little lizard clinging onto a leaf for dear life as I hung up in the air for several minutes. I let go and hissed in frustration, trying to think of what I should do next.

I could jump...? The idea seemed ludicrous at first, as I've never really been much of a jumper throughout most of my life. Hell, when I was I the marine corps, I found it amazing that I even passed some of the obstacle courses. Alright... Just jump as high as you can, Phil. I thought. You're a seven foot tall monster who can dunk on even the best basketball players in your home country, just jump... I kneeled down low, disjointed legs retracted and fore paws on the ground. I kept my gaze on the hole in the ceiling, preparing the most powerful jump I could do.

One... I tightened my legs close.

Two... I dropped my shoulders low, and wiggled my backside a little for adjustment.

THREE! Using the most strength I could dish out, I sprang up like a suppressed bed spring and shot upwards. I obviously underestimated myself, because what happened would make even the angriest, most vile person alive roar with laughter. In about a split second, I flew up into the air and passed the hole, slamming the top of my head into the ceiling of the floor that was once above me. I fell down again, landing right next to the hole I had just come though only to hold my elongated cranium in pain. It didn't really hurt much, but the sheer force of it shocked the hell out of me, making me roar louder than a dominating lion.

I crawled out of the bathroom and entered the room, laying on the ground. I decided to just lay there for a while, to relax and let the soreness of my head slowly bleed away. I refuse to do that again. I thought. EVER.

Dazed, I got up and walked out of the bathroom. As expected, the 'living room' was no different from the one under me, save for the half-destroyed furniture and wreck from the explosions. Thankfully, this room was a tad bit cleaner than the one I was in earlier. There wasn't much trash on the ground and the damage was minimal with only a few cracks on the walls and ceiling.

I didn't explore much, because I already knew that most rooms, if not all, were already looted and ransacked. God I hope my room isn't as fucked up as the others... I thought to myself. There was no point in even going into the kitchen, as the fridge doors were torn and thrown across the living room like worthless Lego blocks. I also noted the deep gnashes on the side of the fridge, naturally coming to the conclusion that someone must've been hiding in the fridge before they were unfortunately found by other Xenomorphs. I was surprised though, that there was no blood on the fridge or anywhere near it. Probably taken to the nest for harvesting maybe. Might've been a drone or a runner, I thought. Poor bastard...

I entered the hallway and approached the door on my right. I read the label to make sure it was the right room. 52-B.

Smiling inwardly, I quietly rejoiced and typed in my password on the side panel. I no longer had my access card for quick and easy entry, so I'd have to go the old fashion way: passcode entry. I mentally mumbled the numbers to myself as I entered them one by one. After hitting all the correct numbers, I paused, making sure I missed nothing. I then hit the scorched enter button and waited for the door to open. Nothing...

Fuck. I thought. I knew it was too good to be true... I wasn't even denied access to my own room, as it neither opened nor beeped to tell me I was being refused entry. There was just no power. I cursed myself for my own stupidity for assuming that the auxiliary power also worked for these doors. I knew elevators were out of the question already, and basically all commissaries and vending machines were all supplied with no power. Guess I have to do it manually.

Grumbling, I went to the opposite side of the door and opened the red emergency hatch. It wasn't really large, rather it was the same size as the little medic boxes in the infirmary. Of course, it wasn't protruding outwards like the medic station boxes; instead, it was pretty much built into the wall where the inner workings and counterweights helped the door function. Thankfully, the architects and engineers made it simple enough to fix in case of possible malfunctions and damages done to the inner workings of the door mechanics. That I didn't mind at all, but it still pissed me off how they were TOO DAMN LAZY to invest in better research for construction instead of using weak cement and iron Rebars for the walls and ceiling.

I peered inside the hatch and searched for the chain-linked pulley with the counter weights attached. Didn't take too long, as it was almost literally the first thing I saw. With barely any effort, I pulled and the door began to slide up. I tightened my jaws and grit my razor sharp teeth, enduring the sound of rusted metal sliding across metal.

Once the door was high enough, I used my right paw to hold onto the bottom of the door to prevent it from falling and closing on me. It was surprisingly light, despite it being made from iron and steel components. Once the door was high enough, I hooked the chain link onto a stopper inside the mechanism and crawled through the little opening I made.

A familiar scent stung my nose, making me feel a wave of nostalgia from recognizing it. I surveyed the damage in the room, and was satisfied at the lack of cracks and destroyed properties it had. There was still some trash around, most of which were made by others instead of me, but that was all, really. My room was, of course looted, but I doubt I would need any spoons or forks and the like. The kitchen was not exactly left intact, but nor was it destroyed. The only damage I could see was a few cabinet doors torn and thrown on the ground carelessly.

Leaving the kitchen, I went through the living room and to my bedroom. After a while, I almost forgot that I even had the satchel on me. Remembering it now, I began to decide whether or not I should open another can of food to eat. But part of me wanted to save it for later, in case I really needed to feed later on.

I blew a relaxed hiss as I entered my bedroom. Because it was pillaged, it was almost empty, devoid of all my valuables I had before the explosive incidents some time ago. But other than that, my bed, some pictures of my family, and even some clothes remained. There was some dust collecting on the dresser and my broken desktop, but that could be very easily ignored. All I really cared about at this point were pictures of my son and ex-wife. I dropped the satchel immediately and jumped towards the desk, looking at the decade old photos of me and my family. Photos taken before I lost my leg and eye...

Exhaling deeply, I grabbed the little picture frame of the family portrait I took on my sons 9th birthday, the one that a friend of mine took after I shoved some cake into Jimmy's face. I couldn't help but feel amused by looking into my distant past. I remember seeing him get so angry when I put icing in his hair, and how fast that anger vanished when I got him a pet snake he's always wanted.

I placed the portrait on the nightstand and crawled onto my bed. A spring or two groaned under my weight, but was muffled by the layers upon layers of bedding and cloth that covered it. Before I laid myself down, I stuck my face into the old pillow and sniffed it several times. I was only curious as to what I smelled like, before the power plants and generators were destroyed. The scent was stale, but... Prominent. I kind of smelled like pencil shavings and old soap, mixed with the smells of fresh paper and melted plastic. It was... Strange. Is this... What the Xenomorphs smell when I was human? After I was infected with an embryo and dragged to their nest? I didn't want to think about it. The thought of it is worthless anyway.

Right now I am tired... I thought. I need to sleep... I'll worry about what comes next tomorrow. I laid the side of my head near the edge of the bed, so my saliva won't drench the mattress entirely while I slept. I curled myself up as little, not even throwing the blanket on top to warm me. As I began to doze off, I noticed something. My mind has been so preoccupied for the past day or two... Hell, I don't even know how long I've been here like this. But still... I've noticed a certain feeling that lingers.

I lifted my head, and listened to my surroundings, focusing on every single noise that my sensitive ears could pick up. All I heard were the water droplets spattering on the ground from the sink pipes in the bathroom, along with the occasional groan of the ceiling, giving the illusion that it may collapse any second. But that was all I heard... That and my breathing. I was in complete silence.

I choked on a breath, somewhat resembling a sob of some sort. I laid my head down on the edge and waited for sleep to overtake me. I felt so... Isolated. Like I was tossed out of society, rejected by most. All I had was me. Just me. Just me...

I'm lonely... I thought to myself. I'm all alone. Alone...

I worked hard on this one, providing you all with more than 5,000 words instead of just some petty less-than-2,000-word chapter. Hope you all enjoyed! Make sure to leave a comment for any and all criticisms.