You growl and weeze at the aftermath of the battle. The mangled corpses and desecrated remains of humans and xenomorphs strewn across the streets. Amputated human limbs - legs hanging intertwined on telephone wires and arms with crooked fingers as if beckoning all those still alive to join them - lay scattered, making it impossible to tell to whom they belonged.
Potholes were starting to form beneath the disemboweled organs of the xenomorph fallen, the molecular acid reacting with the tar and pavement to create trickles of smoke.
Anything in sight that had remained uncovered by bodies and bodyparts were beridden with bullet holes, claw-marks and blood sprays that looked as if a firetruck had tried to dowse a flame with red paint.
The preatorian-honour guard was now starting to issue orders(although in a far more primitive way than that of their human enemies), stating that it heard from the queen telepathically that a second marine squadron had broken through the eastern flank with 3 convoys of tanks and half-trucks. They were targeting the main nests there and all surviving warriors in this district were being called to the defend it.
He turned to you and spoke, or rather grunted and sneered and threatened, that you should stay here with 2 warriors and guard this path from anyone trying to make a break for the queen herself. With that he and 50 drones and warriors swarmed away, scaling over walls and roofs, the familiar sound of their amassed footsteps (like nails on iron or billboards), withering away into the distance along with their roars and shrieks.
In the resulting silence, all that could be heard was the terrified and agonized screams of a lone surviving marine who was being pulled by one of your cohorts by the teeth, attempting to bring the hapless marine to back to a nearby unopened egg. Both his legs were torn off.
The remaining member of your team came to you, grunted and whacked you with his tail to gather your attention.
But you ignored him entirely, for you were caught in your own world.
Something you saw, puzzled you. Spears. Lots of them. As you surveyed the battle aftermath you noticed several marine corpses impaled by them. One marine was hanging against the nearby store wall with a spear pinning him through the head against the wall, like a paperman on a notice board, about 2 feet above the ground. Another 2 marines lay against a postbox, both impaled simultaneously by a single spear, like a gruesome kebab. The spears also extended to the xenomorph casualties. Several spears embedded into their backwards sloping shell-shaped heads.
They had all been killed during this battle, whilst the xenomorphs and humans were too engaged with each other to notice an alternate enemy in their midst, picking them off one by one as they were occupied with killing each other.
Your animalistic intelligence didn't recodnise the spears as a weapon belonging to a particular enemy, but your great memory allowed you to connotate them with the threat of a Predator, for you had survived a confrontation with one before. It had cost you your tail and nearly your life, lucky the tail could be regrown as a gecko's could.
You tensed up and got ready jump or move for evasive action. You knew the fucker was out there. That death could befall you at any moment right now. You rotated your oblong head and tried to view as much of your surrounding area with your fishbowl vision at once. You sniffed the air and listened intently, your instincts going haywire as you tried desperately to sense an enemy you knew was out there, but remained invisible.
Just then! A drop of human blood from telephone wires dropped onto what appeared to be thin air, stopped midair and flowed downward like a drop flowing down a car windshield. You didn't even hesitate. You jumped to the right, knocking your comrade away who up until now had remained oblivious to everything, still trying to get your attention.
A split-second later a plasma-bolt sheared past the 2 of you, de-atomonising the very atmoshpere in the space where you stood only moments before, and continued to vaporize your 3rd mate whom was directly behind you and the marine he had dragged with him.
A Predator seemingly materialized from where the plasma-bolt originated as the Plasma-shoulder-cannon had drained his suits power, and he uncloaked. He bashed his chest and roared imperiously as he unslung his spear gun and took aim.
Both you and you mate reacted instantly, both darting in opposite directions in order to outflank him. 3 Spears strafed you, missing you by millimeters, the 4th would have pierced your brain had you not jumped behind a car at the last second.
By now your mate charged the predator from behind, drawing his fire. This was the signal for you to jump cover and you made a bee-line to the Predators turned back
As you sprinted to the Predator, you could see your comrade zig-zagging from side to side as he dodged the Predator's spears, closing in on him. You almost thought, as you had just covered half the distance, that you weren't needed and that your comrade would slay the predator before you got there, when -just as your mate jumped the last meter onto the predator's face - the predator's spear connected with his tail slicing it clean off and sending your mate body and all with its powerful thrust into the nearby wall.
You now had no choice but to continue charging, your agile, clawed feet carrying you faster that a cheetah.
Suffering the same misfortune as your mate, the predator had already turned around facing you, before you could close the last hurdle of the gap. You came to a standstill before him at point-blank range, snarling, knowing you demise was imminent as the front-node of his Shoulder-plasma-cannon glowed blue and trained directly at you; no time to even consider dodging.
If you were human, now would have been an appropriate time to say: SHIT!
But the Cannon short-circuited and failed to fire; a stray spray of acidic blood from the earlier violent spear thrust on your mate as his tail had been amputated had found its way on the cannon, slowly corroding it.
The predator brought his spear gun still in his hands up, but with renewed vigour, you jumped him and bit the gun, breaking it in half.
Never a creature to take anything's shit, the predator calmly proceeded to grab you by the head and swirl with you in hand like a discus thrower, before releasing you and sending you head-first through the front window-pane of a boutique and a great deal of mannequins. But the fall did little to harm you, your tough exoskeleton protecting you from the impact.
He now proceeded to take an ugly looking device from his many asseccories and tools tied to his waist. It resembled a frisbee with razor fish-hook knives protruding from its edges.The infamous one-shot-kill Disc of the Predators.
You knew exactly what the thing was, even if in your primitive brain you couldn't begin to grasp how it worked. For it was with this thing that you has lost your tail with your last encounter with a predator. You started running through the store back into the street, knowing the Disc's ability to home in on its targets.
As you ran, you heard the Disc's metallic whining to your left and ducked just in time to miss it cleaving you in half, but not before taking off 2 of the 4 cylindrical protrusions that was present on all Xenomorphs right of your back, sending streams of your yellow-green acid blood running down the rest of you. Luckily some acid was caught on the disc, destroying it.
Now in the open you and the Predator faced one another on opposite sides of the street, the gory remains of the previous battle making a literal red carpet beneath your feet, as you 2 stood a generic western final face-off.
The Predator roared pumping out his chest and and holding back his arms as was familiar to them. You snarled and sneered showing your teeth, as well as your teeth within your teeth (the tongue-head-mouth-thing biting the air as it escaped you mouth threateningly).Both of you were royally pissed off. And then you both charged.
On contact he punched you so hard with an uppercut, that he literally sent you flying. But thinking quickly you recovered your balance mid-air and grasped a streetlight like a circus swingman. From up there you had a magnificent vantage point from which to jump him. Like a monkey cursing a lion you spat at him from above.
Just as you were about to jump, he shot a grapling-hook through your leg from the wristband on his left wrist and pulled you downward like a harpooner. Like a wrecking ball he smashed you into the pavement, breaking several toes, fingers, teeth.
The fall was bad and left you dazed. The predator proceeded to pull you to him accros the cement like a fisherman would with his helpless catch on the beach; both his wristblades were out and gleaming.
Refusing to die such a demeaning death, you reacted by instinct. First you ran a little bit to the predator, throwing him off balance, then ran away from him pulling him off his feet. Not slowing down in order not to give the predator a chance to stand up and use his superior strength, you ran with him sliding behind you on his stomach, like a sled being pulled by you as the musher dogs, the harpoon still embedded in your leg.
You chose a thick granite column at the nearby shopping mall entrance, running around it and heading straight back to the predator.
Like 2 cars coming on a collision-course, you pulled the predator to you as he slid helplessly after the grapling-hook wire which you towed around the column. Still face down, he could do little to stop you from jumping on his back and stabbing him in the neck with your serrated tail.
You smiled in satisfaction and malevolence as you wormed your tail violently through his neck and into his brain, the Predator only able to groan as the life left him. You then followed him into unconsciousness as you collapsed from your wounds.
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