Stories

The Hunt

“The cold snows of midwinter bring forth the lush prey of spring; at least that’s what my crèche-parent used to tell me. This was one of those snowy times, I think, which is why I am preparing a summary report.

“Silent-stalker reporting; this is my eighth day on the alien world, and my first expedition beyond the enclave known as ‘Eddie’s apartment’ (see attached file). This was not voluntary; several aliens used guns to inject drugs into me which caused temporary paralysis.

“I was transported by vehicle (ref:van) to a large storage structure (ref:warehouse). Two of the creatures watched me the entire time. They were both of the same somatype as Eddie (ref:male) and appeared hostile. Like Eddie, they reeked of fear; I speculate that this is a typical feature of their type.

“On examination of the metal restraints placed on my arms, I noted a particularly ineffective design. Simply by disjointing my thumb I was able to remove them. When I demonstrated this to my captors the fear-scent intensified. I was forced to bite the hand off one and twist the head of the other sufficiently to disable respiration (approx. 140 degrees). These creatures are meaty with a high fat content, but overall taste quite bland. I have relocated to the upper portion of the room, on top of the various boxes.

“I must issue a warning should any others find their way here. These aliens have a substance called ‘bacon’ formed of slow-roasted spiced white meat. It is very pleasant in taste, and I might even prefer it to the touching ritual!

“I have informed my alien friend Karen of my location; it is of the second somatype (ref:female) and seems curious about our species. I am suspending the recordign for now; this log will continue when I am not in a predator-prey situation.

My other two captors arrive at my former location. They hoot and point at the discarded restraints and their dead companions. The sight and smell of blood has intensified their fear. They draw their weapons and start off in opposite directions. Neither looks up.

I follow the creature with the stronger fear-scent. It’s chuffing to itself in alienese, which seems to be intensifying its fear-scent. Perhaps this is some kind of weapon; if so, it is remarkably ineffective.

I drop on it. It buckles under my weight and I tear out its throat. The creature’s air tastes of combusted plant matter. It’s disgusting; I prefer the blandness of the other two. I choke down a small amount of meat in deference to the prey. I wish I had some bacon.

Number Four comes running. When it sees Number Three it regurgitates its stomach contents. They smell pleasantly spicy, but I am too old to eat other creatures’ voidings.

I drop onto Number Four and pull the weapon from its hand. It grabs my middle left arm and twists; the pain is intense. I put my lower right hand on its mouth. It bites me. It tips sideways and we fall. We hit the ground on my middle left arm; I feel the bone snap. This is not predator-prey, it is predator-predator!

In my rage I bite down and tear out its intestines. It stops moving almost instantly. I bury my face in the blood, then scream my triumph to the world.

I open my log “I am now safe; safety is paramount. That is why I had to kill my captors.”