A/N:
So this chapter came flying out relatively fast-ish. Perhaps it was all the extra energy and joy I had from getting AVP2 to work once more :]
Silly me decided to wait 6 chapters before telling what the characters look like. I even went back through all my files to make sure I hadn't before.
The reviews are pouring in (well kinda) either way it's pretty inspiring and motivational.
Thanks for the support you guys, I couldn't do it without you…
GrayHuntress: You made me smile, if not giving me a very miniature heart attack of…hope was it?
Possumpie: Perhaps Briz'zyne is just mentally slow. A retarded yautja… now that's an idea to toy with (maybe some other time…) I try pretty hard to match songs with things going on around, because that's how I go through life.
There will be no recap this chapter, probably due to laziness or something along that fact.
Xoxoxo
Dæmon
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Thrashing around like a fish out of water was probably one of my worst ideas, it did nothing to slow the approach of the needle. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.
I felt the not so gentle prick of the needle and fluid began its course through my veins, leaving a painful burning sensation wherever it flowed. The ceiling began to spin and the world grew darker and the drugs began to take effect.
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The yautja cast wary glances upon each other and then back to the peacefully sleeping ooman. "She should be in a state of dhi'ki-de for quite some time, but even I don't know how her frail body will react if and when she awakens." Briz'zyne cocked his head to the side, causing his tresses to clink together as the metal like beads collided and began to study the tiny body on the table. "Very well brother, leave her there for the time being, we are required to find a suitable location." The warriors turned to leave the room, the only noise betraying their absence was the soft clinking of the few metal plates on their body as they left.
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A cold dark prison, surrounded in brick walls. The only way out was down those stairs. I was scared and unsure, but at the bottom there was light and the gentle whispers of human voices were music to my ears. Slowly and carefully I proceeded down the steps. Whatever lay ahead, I had to face there was no doubt about it.
The sight of other humans brought an unrelenting joy to my heart. The room was dimly lit, by a singly hanging light fixture located about a wicked looking chair. It looked like a cross between a dental chair and a reclining chair found in average homes. The char was occupied by a man dressed in a soldiers' garb as well as a hat. His uniform was rather decorated showing his expertise and his face was bearded. The whispers began to grow in volume, "But look, he has a beard, surely he must posses some sort of rank!" I drew closer to the unconscious man, oblivious to the cold chill that swept its way through the room.
In the blink of an eye he shot up, fully awake and his eyes danced about warily. Then I was the one in the chair, the overhead light blinding in my eyes. I could feel someone or something holding me down as the man spoke in a foreign tongue. He began to motion almost frantically to his teeth. His face was now mere inches away from mine and a sadistic grin lit up his face. His eyes were blank, almost soulless and his teeth were rotted and some filed to points. The stench of him was overpowering. It was a cross between death and decaying carcasses.
Cold metal pressed itself against my throat, sliding across my skin ever so gently. And then, there was the taste of blood. It was overwhelming, covering my tongue and going down my throat. My stomach began to churn and I struggled to break free as my body was preparing to purge. My struggle was not in vain, they quickly let go to allow me to vomit over the side of the chair, but as I went to return to my reclining position, a hand kept me down and I felt the urge rising once more, but there was nothing left in my stomach, not even the smallest amount of bile.
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My eyes shot open as I took in a few ragged breaths. The room seemed colder somehow. I'm sure it was a combination between waking up in a cold sweat strapped down to a metal table. Taking a few extra breaths I struggled to calm myself. I could feel every heart beat, each one bringing a slight amount of pain.
A few minutes had passes before I decided to look around and try my restraints. They looked like simple straps crisscrossing over my body, except at my hands. The metal braces reminded me of something from medieval times, like I was to be hung on a dungeon wall. The design looked simple enough and very similar to handcuffs if anything. A sly grin split across my face as I recalled my friend using me for handcuffing practice when he worked with law enforcement. I had almost always managed to slip out, but now I wouldn't have the links and other cuff to use as leverage.
I fiddled with the metal the best I could, figuring it'd be better to try. Taking a deep breath I steeled myself for the pain that was sure to come from trying to slip my hand out. I folded my thumb in and very slowly began to try and pull my wrist out. The edges dug into my skin removing a few layers as I slowly worked my hand out. With one final shift the metal passed over the joint of my thumb. One hand was home free. Bleeding and bruised, but free nonetheless. I began the same, slow process with my other hand, losing more skin than I had wanted.
Surely the straps would be no problem seeing as how I had both hands. Quickly I began feeling around for latches, buckles, anything that would release them. I found what I was looking for. Little buckle like things that were just underneath the edge to the table, just barely out of my reach. It would require lost of work and awkward twisting to reach them. Gritting my teeth I left an arm hang off one side, bent at the wrist to feel my way around the under side of the table.
After several minutes of painful arm cramps and attempting to bend things in ways they shouldn't be bent, I had gotten the majority of the straps off. Sitting up I reached to fumble at the remaining straps but instead, I was distracted by the room around me. It was as if everything was built for giants, which made a great deal of sense, considering the people, err extraterrestrials I was with were small giants. Freeing my legs, I swung them over the side and gasped in shock. The drop down was easily 4.5 almost 5 feet, if not more. This drop wouldn't be pain free, but it was necessary. Sliding closer and closer to the edge, I pointed my toes hoping to reach the floor; there was no luck with that. With a deep breath I pushed the rest of my body off, landing on the floor in the rough equivalent of a crouch. Pain shot through the arches of my feet as I moved to stand.
I used a few precious moments to hurriedly pat myself down, making sure everything worked as it should. I hadn't sustained too many injuries, aside from missing skin on my hands and scratches decorating my arms, legs and part of my face.
I cautiously tiptoed to the door, trying to slow my ever rising heartbeat. Back pressed to the wall, I peered around the wall being sure to expose as little of myself as possible. The coast was clear, but the long hallway provided absolutely zero concealment let alone cover. Taking a few steps forward, I dropped my weight and slowly began to creep through the hallway. At the sound of clinking metal, my heart rate spiked. Well, spiked was an understatement. I fought the panic, the instincts of fight or flight.
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The warriors sat in the cockpit, monitoring the feeds from the security systems that were scattered around the ship. A guttural hiss escaped Briz'zyne's masked face. The medical bay was empty! Scanning the feeds more closely, he was careful to note the small traces of blood on the metal table. With the tap of talons he scanned through the rest of the ships security feeds. The stupid ooman was sneaking down one of the nearby hallways looking for an escape route. "I'll show that pauk-de pyode amedha not to wander around the ship…" The growl was a clear threat. Stalking out of the cockpit, the yautja made his way down the long hallways of the ship. A deep inhalation, pricking of the ears alerted him to her position. He let out a harsh cackle, "Oh this shall be fun indeed…" The ooman's scent of fear was permeating every space of the ship and her heartbeat seemed to echo off the very walls.
Taking his time, the warrior strode down the hallway and within moments was able to see the ooman in all of her panicky glory. He clattered his mandibles in sick joy as her fear increased. A few more steps drew him closer, about 50 yards away. He was confident; he knew it would take seconds for him to cross that distance. But he waited for the ooman to make the first move…
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I felt like I was in the Old West, where they had those crazy cowboy standoffs in the middle of town. Except this was a hallway and he was no cowboy. I half expected the song from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly to start playing. I took a deep breath. This wasn't a battle of wits or strength. I couldn't run past him, it would take a mere second for him to slice me in half. No, I had to be cunning. I glanced to the side, near the ceiling there was an open vent, but the climb was easily over 6 feet. This would be nothing like the 6 foot walls I had managed to scamper over before. Taking a deep breath I scooted back several feet. At an angle this seemed almost impossible, but at least I'd die trying. A swift crack of my knuckles, back and neck was the only thing to loosen me up. Inhaling deeply I sprinted for the wall, barely remembering to jump at the last minute. The yautja at the end of the hall sprung into action, with a fearsome roar he began stampeding towards me as I struggled to get my leg up and in to the vent. There was a big flaw in my plan that I just happened to realize. This wasn't a wall and I couldn't hook my leg on the other side to pull myself over. A few more moments of panic and then I felt a heavy had on my free leg. "Oh shit." I began to struggle, flailing my leg, trying to free it of the hand. A plan popped into mind and it had about a 50% chance of failure.
Slowly I inched backwards bending my leg and reach around with my foot until I found what I hoped was the bicep of the creature. Flexing all of my muscles, I pushed using his arm as leverage to get myself into the vent. The good news is, I was completely in the vent, and the bad news? He still had my leg. Panic started rising as I repeatedly kicked his hands with my free foot trying to ignore the pain that it caused me in the process.
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Briz'zyne let out a threatening roar as the small being launched itself up the wall, struggling for the vent. Charging down the hallway he was latched onto one of her legs in what couldn't have been more than a few seconds. The stupid ooman was slowly losing her grip and sliding out of the vent, perhaps she was giving up? The nearly nonexistent weight on his arm increased slightly before the pale creature scrambled into the vent.
His clicked in annoyance; this was getting old pretty fast. He was much less than shocked when the female began lashing out at his hand with her other foot, kicking it repeatedly trying to break the grip of his fingers. The warrior tightened his grip, talons cutting into the delicate flesh. And then, there was this god awful, deafening noise. With his sensitive ears and the mask magnifying anything audible, the pain was short of extreme. The noise didn't stop and then started to grow in pitch.
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Nym'aste glanced around in mild surprise as the shrieking echoed around the ship. Chattering and hissing to himself he made his way toward the fellow warrior's position. As her arrived at the scene, the predator couldn't help but trill with laughter. Briz'zyne's arm had disappeared into the vent, still attached to the ooman's leg. At last the screaming stopped and Briz'zyne turned his head to Nym'aste "She didn't stay sedated as you can see. I don't think disposing of her will be very simple anymore." He turned back to the vent and snatched up the other leg. With a swift tug the ooman was outside of the vent, upside down and uncomfortable. The tiny hands quickly flew to the clothing covering her torso, trying to hold it down as a peculiar shade of red brushed her face.
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I could feel the heat in my cheeks, the intensity of the blushing. They totally didn't need to see that. But what could I expect being held upside down? Maybe I should start tucking in my shirts from now on, just in case I end up like this again. Being held upside down has some nasty consequences. Like all the blood rushing to my head, that is totally not fun. I tried to glare up at the giant, but I only received a clacking noise. "Ughhh…So uhm, you wanna do me a favor big guy? I really do not like being held upside down or having to hold my shirt down so I don't flash you again, because that is really embarrassing." I met the floor with a painful thud, but at least he had listened to me, right?
As I rubbed my tender legs and tried to shake the stars from my vision, I looked up. This was the first time I had actually gotten a really good look at my captors considering I wasn't running for my life.
The one standing in front of me was easily 7.5 feet and not to mention well muscled. That's a big understatement. I doubt there was any fat on that body. His skin was a dappled hunter green color, the sports were barely lighter, some flecked with brown. The hunter green faded to the color of the inside of a cucumber. Dreadlock like things hung from his head with random bands of gold. The 'hair' looked more like little tubes. I tilted my head to the side studying the rest of his body. The mask he wore was plain enough with only one mark in the center of the forehead. It was the shape of a T, kind of. It was a bit lopsided. The warrior was clad in some metal and the rest looked like fishnet. I let my eyes wander down, bright red flashed across my cheeks as I caught myself staring. Mentally I chided myself.
I looked behind him, narrowing my eyes slightly. The other one, he was a bit shorter, maybe about 7 feet and more of motley of browns, tans and bits of yellows, like he belonged in a desert and the other belonged in the jungle. That where the differences ended. He was just as muscled clad in identical gear, except for the mask. It wasn't as smooth as the other's and had more of a fearsome look.
Finished studying them, I shakily got to my feet only to have my knees buckle. My stomach was churning and shortly thereafter I was retching on my hands and knees. At this point I was glad that I hadn't eaten anything otherwise their floor would be covered in the contents of my stomach. With a few final gut wrenching coughs I leaned back against the wall and shut my tired eyes. Without the adrenaline in my body all the pain came back, the throbbing pain from my hands, fatigue from running and a slight itching from all the various scratches. I didn't want to imagine how bloodshot my eyes were right now.
As I moved to stand up once more the smaller predator took a few steps forward, clicking and chattering to the other, who let out a low hiss. "Oh lawdy…here we go again…" I muttered shaking my head.
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Nym'aste tilted his head to the side a clicked softly "Briz'zyne, what do you suggest we do with her?" He was just as curious about the ooman as she seemed to be about them. There was something intriguing about those blue eyes. They seemed to shift colors in the different lights, from blues to grays to what looked like a color that could pass as green. The small being was pale, in an almost sickening way. He found their lack of color to be disturbing. The hair was long and matted and a dirty gold color.
The chattering from his brother broke his focus. "We can sell her for an unblooded's chiva, or use her as bait for the hard meat." "Brother look at her condition, do you really think she would make a stand against either of those? It would be even more dishonorable for another to kill her as you did her mother…" The smaller yautja trailed off as Briz'zyne let out a low growl as the past issue was brought up. He knew it was a beginner's mistake to do such a thing. He stared down at his bother, seeing that he wasn't paying attention. Slowly her turned to follow his gaze, looking upon the ooman, who seemed to be bouncing around in place and speaking rapidly. His translator only picked up a few words. She was saying something about showering, bathroom and pills. Briz'zyne tilted his head and clicked once more. Already so much time had been lost and it was nearing guan. "Nym'aste take her to wash up, her stench is becoming over powering." The smaller warrior nodded in compliance.
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They are more talkative than half the girls I know, it's kind of scary I guess, seeing two big manly creatures clicking and chattering with each other like little angry women. Impatient, I started to do the potty dance, it was embarrassing but I really, really had to go pee. I can only hold that for so long. And then next thing I know, the brownish one was literally dragging me off to some random part of the ship, talking to himself all the way. It reminded me of how I would mutter as I walked away from my mother. That thought alone brought more tears to my eyes, I knew I'd never see her again, and every time I thought about it, it seemed to hurt more and more.
By the time I bothered to look around I realized I was in a humongous room. It reminded me of those really old Roman bath houses teachers would talk about it history, just a lot bigger. I turned to look at the predator that stood there like a statue. A few seconds later and I realized he wasn't going to leave. "Oh you can't be serious... You guys do not give people privacy do you?" I let out a frustrated groan. "Two can play this game." And so there I stood, my arms crossed. There was no way I was going to remove any clothing let alone clean myself with him in the room… Ok maybe I would.
With deliberate slowness I grasped the hem of my shirt…
Previously used words or phrases:
dhi'ki-de: Unconscious or coma
pauk-depyode amedha: (roughly trans. to) f*ing soft meat
chiva: trial or test
gkei'moun nain-de: (roughly trans. to) easy victory
zabin: small bug like creature
hulij-bpe: crazy
A/N: Oh look its me… again… how funny. I realize this chapter might not be up to par but bear with me as I'm trying to recall the plans I had for my story.
The story might get bumped in rating because I don't think nakie bits are 'T' rated.
Reviews are cherished and flames are welcome because without criticism, I can't improve my writing.