The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136

The tension was palpable, as the Arxur occupants studied Marcel in silence. I gathered that the human didn’t want to engage with them either. The predatory savagery from the cradle plagued my recollection, and the chilling screams of the unfortunate Gojids echoed on loop. It would be all too easy for the grays to gut either of us, with the swipe of their fangs.

Chief Hunter Isif dropped into the seat right next to us; the monster was inches away from me. It disregarded the shift in Marcel’s body language. The human had leaned away, though there wasn’t anywhere to go in a helicopter cabin. I got the impression his concern was for me, rather than himself.

After the attack on Earth, it’s like he doesn’t care what happens to him. If I wasn’t about to be carved up, I’d insist he seek help.

Isif bared its teeth ferociously. “Well, I’ve introduced myself. What’s your name, Venlil?”

Its voice was a discordant snarl, amplifying humanity’s typical rumble by a thousandfold. A pathetic squeak escaped my throat, and I sobbed into Marcel’s shirt. The vegetarian stroked my ear with patience, unfazed by the salty wetness soaking the fabric.

I didn’t know how even a persistence predator could be so calm in the face of such an eyesore. That scaly demon was sensory hell. I’d rather be hunted by Marcel’s kind for hours, than look at Isif for another second.

“Okay. That was the response I expected,” the Arxur sighed. “What are you called, human?”

My human stiffened. “Marcel Fraser, but just Marcel is fine. The Venlil here, his name is Slanek.”

“I knew you hadn’t lost your voice, Marcel. Slanek is here on Tarva’s behalf, yes?”

My ears perked up in alarm. How did Isif even know that name?! That must mean the Arxur were targeting the governor, or had other nefarious plans for her. I refused to believe the humans would betray us by turning over intel on the Republic.

Marcel offered a curt head shake. “Slanek is a fighter pilot. We’re training him to be a proper soldier.”

“Ha! Good one…as if this specimen could fight.” Isif’s eyes glittered with decadent mirth, before the expression dissolved. “Oh Prophet. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

The red-haired human glared at the floor, not answering the reptile. It was clear my friend had little interest in the conversation; I think he only entertained the first question to get the commander to leave me alone. The monstrous predator gave up, and turned its focus to the window.

Our helicopter drifted above a sea of rubble, which stretched to the horizon. Building husks lingered as statues to a fallen world, and fires were splashed across the landscape. The ground was covered in a thick coating of soot; this looked like the aftermath of an Arxur raid. My heart sank in my chest, as I realized how dire the outlook was for Marcel’s family.

The human pilot guided our craft toward the designated neighborhood. Chief Hunter Isif craned its neck, and narrowed its disgusting eyes with solemnness. I didn’t understand what game it was playing, trying to make nice with the humans. It must have some dastardly plan at work.

The Arxur commander maintained the brooding expression, as we touched down. It ordered the other grays to sweep the area for survivors, and accrue intel for their government. Marcel rose to his feet to follow them, but Isif blocked the human’s path. The scaly monster gestured to the devastation behind it.

“What do you think of what the Federation did, Slanek?” the Chief Hunter growled.

My ears laid flat against my skull. “I t-think… it looks a lot like what you do.”

A sharp glint flashed in its eyes. “Ah, that’s a good answer. You think our species is an instrument of evil, yet you admit your friends are no different.”

“The F-federation are…monsters. Not friends. But they don’t eat people.”

“Because they don’t have to. You all want my kind wiped from existence. Hell, you probably wish I’d drop dead right now. Do you even see us as people?”

“After everything you’ve done, you’ll never be people, to anyone!”

My sudden outburst took me by surprise. Marcel‘s fingers tensed around my scruff, and his stance shifted to a defensive posture. That commentary placed my human in a precarious situation. My money wasn’t on the wounded, squishy primate if this turned physical. I should’ve never boarded this aircraft to begin with.

The Arxur raised the ridges above its eyes, and turned around with a sigh. Isif somehow restrained its aggression; the pointed huff emanated disappointment. It drew its sidearm, before shuffling into the ruins of New York.

Marcel followed with a bit of hesitancy. “I’m sorry for what Slanek said, Chief Hunter. Any sapient is a person, no matter what they’ve done.”

“Is that so, human?” the reptile grumbled. “Look, our race has become a shell of itself over the centuries. I wish it wasn’t like this.”

My eyes widened in surprise. Polite concessions, lamenting their current status, wasn’t what I expected it to say. For an emotionless predator, it was doing an excellent job at emulating regret. The fear eased enough for me to wonder what it had to gain from this act. The Arxur never attempted to converse with prey, as a rule.

“Why are you so cruel and merciless?” The words spewed from my mouth in a rambling fervor. “Why did you kill my brother, and bomb my planet, and eat people alive while they were running…”

Its nostrils flared. “Ah yes, it’s well-documented that I did all those things personally. I’m a busy guy, I get around.”

“Your species! D-don’t mock me, demon. There’s no good reason your breed are that cruel and morally deficient.”

“The Federation are the reason we’re starving. Cruelty was and is a defense mechanism, in my view. I’m not excusing it; I’m answering your insults.”

“Defense mechanism. How so?!”

“It was needed as a way to cope with what we had to do to survive. We’re also fighting a war of extinction, while vastly outnumbered, so it serves psychological purposes to…encourage recorded sadism. The Federation loses because they’re afraid.”

The Arxur crested a mountain of rubble, and Marcel escorted us atop the debris too. One human was crawling through the street, with serious burns across her extremities. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, and the sight of peeling flesh made me wince.

Two Zurulian medics had arrived on the scene already; the Americans must’ve directed them to a separate landing site from the grays. A young volunteer rushed to the burn victim’s side, repeating soothing words. The other quadruped kept a wide berth from the aggrieved human, and trembled in terror.

“Wilen, I need a dose of painkillers and antiseptics now,” the youthful Zurulian chimed in.

Wilen flicked his ears in skepticism. “We know nothing about these predators, other than that the Arxur like them. Our government has gone mad, Fraysa. I can’t get close to this thing!”

Isif’s scowl intensified. The hunter gripped its sidearm with malicious intent. Rich hunger danced in its gaze, and it shared an enraged glance with Marcel. For once, I agreed with the monster; we couldn’t let the medics dilly dally with an agonized human.

Fraysa rounded on her partner. “What we know, is the humans haven’t done anything wrong. They sought peace, and were brutally attacked for it. Also, the Venlil and our ambassador adore them.”

“But they’re predators! I’m here for the Venl—”

“No! We don’t play god, and pick and choose who we help. We save lives indiscriminately. Get with that, or get the fuck out of my sight.”

The injured human watched with glassy eyes. Wilen lowered his head, before crouching at Fraysa’s side. He began applying wet dressings and antiseptics, while his partner tended to the pain. The Zurulians then prepped a transport to their hospital ship.

Isif lowered its gun, and watched as the quadrupeds strained to lift the human. The Arxur marched down to the site, swishing its tail in a display of dominance. The Zurulians dropped the patient, when they saw the gray skulking toward them. I was worried the abomination had regained its appetite too.

Maybe it likes charred flesh, like Tyler did. It could see the Terran burn victim as the perfect meal…oh stars.

The Chief Hunter lifted the primate onto the gurney, and fastened the straps in seconds. It backed away, and growled to get the medics’ attention. Fraysa was wielding a syringe in her mouth, pointing it as if a shot of painkillers would stop the murderous demon.

“Stay back!” The female Zurulian quivered, and seemed aghast at the sight of my human behind the gray. “Human…and Venlil, please! Help us! It’s kidnapping my patient.”

“I’m not kidnapping the human. I put her on the stretcher so you can move her for evac,” Isif growled. “If I was hostile, trust me, you would know. I’m subtle as a sledgehammer.”

Marcel trundled up beside the Arxur. “The last Federation physician I met wanted me dissected. Our doctors pledge to do no harm. It’s a relief to see someone mirror the sentiment of the Hippocratic Oath.”

Wilen squinted at the vegetarian. “You’re…that human named Marcel, from Noah’s video. I recognize you.”

“Shit,” Fraysa squeaked. “I’m sorry for what they did to you. Your treatment w-went against every, um, ethical principle…that we stand for.”

The Chief Hunter inspected the red-haired human with confused eyes. The demonic predator mouthed the name ‘Noah’ to itself, and noted something on its holopad. I think it wanted to ask what happened to my friend. Obviously, a feral animal that loathed weakness would mock his traumatic experience.

Marcel pointed a hand to the stretcher; the Zurulians sidled up to the patient hesitantly. Isif slunk beside them, moving the brunt of the weight. The medics shuffled in a terrified stupor, and our oddball group traversed the ruins. It was sad to see Earth like this, having witnessed this city in its sprawling glory days ago.

It took several minutes to reach the Zurulian hospital ship, which was hovering over a decimated roadway. We glimpsed rows of beds in its loading bay, and my human’s eyes widened with hope. Panicked shouts echoed from the ship’s occupants at the reptile sighting. The Chief Hunter ducked its head, perhaps to seem less threatening.

The Arxur pulled away, and more Zurulian medics hurried over to lug the patient onboard. Fraysa and Wilen bore delirious eyes, which suggested the fear was overstimulating them. That little excursion must have been psychological torment to them.

“Have you rescued a Gojid child…hopefully with a human female?” my human growled.

Wilen blinked. “What?”

“A Gojid! You know, spiky, brown-furred, big claws. WHERE IS SHE?!”

The Zurulians cowered at Marcel’s roar, and their hackle fur stood on end. I swatted my tail at his chin, warning him to calm down. His desperation was something I recognized, but these medics didn’t understand humans yet. They probably thought he was about to go on a rampage.

“Marc is very upset…and loud, but he’s harmless,” I hissed. “Please, just tell us if you’ve seen a Gojid.”

Fraysa drew a shaky breath. “No. Only humans here.”

“I can check with our groups in the other cities,” Wilen added hurriedly. “Maybe Berlin, Toronto, Bangkok, or Manila? B-big predator dwellings there.”

Marcel slumped his shoulders in defeat. “No. They were here.”

“They? Oh…I see.” Understanding flashed in Isif’s pupils. “Why don’t we search for your packmates at their last location? These Zurulians could help us look around.”

The human nodded, blinking away tears. The Arxur focused on his watery eyes, and gave him a rough tail slap on the arm. If I didn’t know better, I would think it was a poor attempt at comfort. A species devoid of empathy was mimicking the trait, of course. Isif was clearly awkward and unpracticed at that falsified aspect.

Fraysa’s gaze softened, and she shared a glance with her partner. “We’ll help you search.”

“But I’d prepare for the likeliest possibility. As a predator, you should be logical about the situation,” Wilen said.

“Wilen, he clearly grasps the extent of the dead! There’s nothing logical about this. Where are we going, Marcel?”

The red-haired primate browsed his holopad, and searched for a location via GPS. The local terrain was unrecognizable, so I doubted he could distinguish Nulia’s bunker from any other scrap heap. The device pinpointed a location a quarter-mile from the hospital ship. All I could see there was a thick hill of concrete.

Anything living must be crushed beneath that. It’s likely the bunker collapsed from the pressure.

Marcel could barely put pressure on his injured leg, but he staggered ahead for the minutes-long trek. I could feel the human’s grief expanding with every step; my predator was cracking right alongside the buildings of New York. It hurt to see my friend, who I believed could withstand any emotion, crumbling. His distress frightened me as much as the hideous Arxur flanking us.

Marcel reached the selected debris mound, and I dismounted onto my own paws. This must be the fallout shelter his family relocated to. The human hurled himself on all fours, flinging the smallest rocks behind him in a frenzy. An animalistic grunt reverberated from his chest, as he strained against his arm injury to tug a massive rock chunk.

Chief Hunter Isif pressed its shoulder against the debris, and moved it enough to leave a tiny gap. Marcel pawed at the scraps below, trying to catch a glimpse of the shelter. He dug furiously with his flimsy fingers. Blood streamed from his dust-caked nails, but that only quickened his scrabbling.

“LUCY! NULIA!” he wailed, in the highest-pitched voice I’d heard him use.

There was no reply from beneath the ruins. Through choking sobs, my friend returned to parsing rocks with his hands. His fingers were drenched in crimson fluid. Sympathy clasped my heart with a vice-like grip, and I tackled him in a desperate hug.

“Marc, stop it. You’re hurting yourself,” I pleaded.

Fraysa placed a cautious paw on his neck. “That’s enough. We’ll excavate the bodies, and make sure they get a proper burial by your customs. I promise.”

The human collapsed atop the wreckage, and pressed an eye against the opening. He screamed incoherently, punching the rubble in outrage. I watched the life leave his sweet countenance; even the gushing tears dried up. My friend was unresponsive to any prodding.

Wilen dabbed at his eyes, affected by the extent of the predator’s raw emotions. I recognized that realization, as he decided humans were sapient. Anyone who saw this display as a performance had to be heartless. There must be countless others across Earth in such a state.

I nuzzled his leg. “Step aside and rest, please. Let the doctors disinfect your wounds.”

“Why?!” my human croaked. “They’ve taken everything. Oh Slanek, put me out of my mis—”

“Mawsle!!” a childish voice cried, faintly audible. “Where have you been? It’s really dark down here, and I don’t like the dark.”

Marcel’s head snapped up. “You’re…alive? I’m coming, darling. Just hold on! We’re working as fast as we can.”

“But I want to go somewhere safe now! Somewhere monsters won’t find me or pick on your eyes. Don’t leave me here, Mawzy!”

“Never. I’m right here.”

A chorus of human growls joined Nulia, as they realized rescuers were above. Relief coursed through my veins; against all odds, some of the bunker withstood the blast. Chief Hunter Isif radioed to send heavy machinery to our coordinates, and withdrew with a fierce snarl. Untrustworthy as it was, I couldn’t deny it’d been helpful so far.

Amidst the chaos and devastation on Earth, it was a relief to save a few human lives from the ashes.