So, I have a nice little AVP story planned around a team of Marines finding Aliens and Predators. Here's the prologue.
Colonial Marine Caleb Sage glanced behind him, his equipment rattling quietly with the sudden motion. He saw a long corridor, bronze in lighting, with grated flooring and a smooth, metallic ceiling. The overhead light flickered weakly, as if being strangled by some invisible entity, but it refused to die. The almost-triangular doors that lined the walls were either closed or shredded, with just the tiniest bit of eerie blue light seeping out into the hallway. One particular door caught his eye; the door was gone, but the light illuminated a dried pulled of blood, a few human fingers extending from the room. He felt a sharp chill race down his spine. But he was in no danger that way. He turned down the other passage, seeing much the same thing, with one key addition: an elevator at the end.
Sage couldn't believe it; an exit! He could finally leave this nightmarish place. He holstered his rifle and broke out at a dead sprint towards salvation. His heavy feet pounded the ground as he ran, the slams echoing out across the entire floor of the facility. He didn't care, he was so close to escape he could taste it. He pictured in his mind hitting the button on the elevator, the cabin descending to the docking bay, getting into a large cruiser, flying away . . . wonderful. He could feel the comfortable seats of a luxury ship, the sweet smell of the leather, his finger tips touching the navigation controls, inputting the coordinates to- what was that? Sage was ripped from his thoughts by a raspy click near the elevator.
Oh God.He noticed a faint blur stepping out of one of the doorways.
No.The red targeting laser flashed into his eye then moved up to his forehead.
No!Caleb's heart skipped a beat. And then he felt a tsunami of ice cold blood rush through every vein in his body, chilling him to the core. His muscles locked up as unknown fear laid its sub-zero iron grip on his soul, intertwining its icicle fingers around his spine, its frosty tentacles snaking up through his body into his brain, shutting down every thought, every emotion that wasn't pure, unadulterated horror. He tried to move, dear Lord he tried, but he couldn't even get his fingers to twitch. He wanted nothing more than to grab his Pulse Rifle and save himself, but that simply wasn't happening. He was frozen in place by the Grim Reaper's artic grasp.
Then he noticed something: a slight shadow just above the blur of the demon. He noticed a sudden, jolted movement come from the invisible figure, just in time to look up and see a pair of large, six-fingered hands shoot down and grab the shape by the head. The laser was throw erratically across the hallway. Sage, suddenly feeling a molten wave rush through his too-fragile body, was free, and he had spotted his moment. He grabbed his rifle, then dove for the closest room. He landed, skidding along the cold ground violently. He scrambled for the door, still crouched. He poked his head out just to the eyes, so he could see what was going on. He could see nothing in the passage, but heard violent screeching, smashing, and roaring in the ceiling. It was coming closer, neither horrifying god able to destroy the other.
Sage knew he had to leave. He had to go. He had to run! He broke out into the hallway, hearing a sudden
whip-crack sound, one that electrified his brain into moving faster, among the ruckus above. A chunk of ceiling crashed down in front of him, right after a blazing blue bolt of energy that sore through it, and the ground beneath. Searing sparks flew throughout the hallway, but didn't stop him. He practically flew, barely spooking when it happened again. A hard look of determination flashed across his face, a determination that showed his unstoppable will to survive, his unyielding need to escape. He wanted to see the light again . . . he knew if he died in here, his soul was Satan's. God dared not approach this place.
So close! I can't stop! I have to make it!He lunged forward at blinding speed. His entire body collapsed to the floor as moment brought him to his escape, the Satanic beasts just behind him . . . and then everything went black. He floated into silent oblivion, mind and body twirling together, descending further, further into the abyss. He flung his arms out, desperately trying to catch anything that could save him, but there was nothing. Only an empty eternity laid before him. His mind faded, slowly leaving him. It gave up on him. Nothing could save him.
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Caleb sprang up in his bed, sheets flinging off his dripping body violently across the room. It lay in the dark corner, sitting there indifferent to his suffering.
Another nightmare.Every night for . . . three weeks, was it? He couldn't shake the horrible memories from his mind. Three years it had been. The dreams were on and off, but the fear was interminable. Every time he stepped into the dark, he remembered. Every time he watched a movie, he remembered. He found memories in every face, every voice, every crevice on the sidewalk. How could he forget?
He had seen he corpses of his squad-mates . . . mutilated bodies unrecognizable to him. Gaping wounds in their chests, ad if a miniature bomb had gone off, expressions of unimaginable pain carved on to their faces meticulously as if an artist had done it. It was horrible, and yet it seemed those creatures cared for beauty as well. Masterfully placed humans had been strung from trees, their blood dripping down to create a neat pool on the ground. His friends without their heads, the incision clean and precise right at the base of their neck, no other part of their body harmed in the slightest.
He saw the slaughtered colonists, strewn about like sadistic rag dolls. Men, women . . .
children. They were cold, unfeeling
monstrosities.
And Cassandra. How could he forget her? His best friend, all his life, mercilessly murdered in front of him. Pinned to the wall by some sickening black substance, begging him to kill her, then convulsion, groaning, coughing, the worm creature ripping from her chest in a haze of blood. Her shrill, terrified, agonized scream echoed in his brain still.
Caleb Sage found memories in every scream, too.
Alien Versus Predator: Terror Unending
