The dreams came slowly to Garet, vague images that ponderously coalesced in his mind's eye. At first, everything was misted over, the images of his mind clouded beyond recognition. Then the mist lifted, and the nightmares began to take form.
In his mind, the light flashed, blinding him for a moment.
He stood in the dark recess of an alien structure. His whirled about, searching for something in the darkness, his gray and black robes clinging to him with sweat. Eyes wide, he began to see imaginary monsters in the shadows around him. Hissing slowly filled the air around him, and he knew the monsters were not fake. They were all around him!
The shadows grew darker, inching towards him, bringing the monsters in their wake. They were at his feet now, and suddenly he could see them. He could see their spindly limbs. He could see their elongated, glistening skulls. He could hear their tails thrashing about as they crouched low to the ground. The hissing grew louder.
He began to chant, and suddenly he was calm His own chanting grew louder, building in intensity along with the hissing of the monsters about him. He turned his gaze upward towards the heavens, and his chanting turned into laughter. The world about him started to spin wildly, the monsters at his feet blurring and joining into one dark streak.
Light flashed.
Red light reflected off of his gray eyes. Wind howled and whipped past him, stirring up clouds of red dust, ruffling his black hair and gray and black robes. He turned, and looked out at the scene before him. The red stretched onwards to the horizon, kilometers upon kilometers of red sand until it met the hazy red of the sky. It was flat, as flat as any desert, un-obscured until the horizon was broken by the massive, brown moon that hung off in space.
Then he saw the people before him. A single line of his congregation, stretching outward from the horizon, hundred of thousands of people trekking single file behind him, following their leader, following Garet! They all wore the gray and black robes as he did. Those closest to Garet looked at him with curiosity, wondering why he had suddenly stopped.
A howling filled the air, but not the howling of the wind. This was a cry of anguish and rage, and then the monsters were there again, bounding over the dunes, sweeping towards the line of robed figures like shadows in the night. They came from all sides, rushing past Garet, brushing up against his billowing robes as he stood squinting out at the scene. Then they were attacking the followers, spilling red blood to mix with the red sand.
Light flashed.
Garet woke up screaming.
He could not get back to sleep that night, so the next morning when he came out of his cell, he looked haggard and worn. The sun was bright outside, chasing away all the shadows of the courtyard. The brightness of it cheered him a little, but not that much. In the center of the courtyard, he watched as Hien led the rest of the congregation in the morning sermon, his voice ringing true and clear as he preached to those kneeling before him.
It had been just about twelve hours since the facehugger's attachment, and by now it was preparing to tear free from Benedict. Stepping out into the light, he grimaced slightly and shielded his eyes from the harsh sun.
"Brothers, the time is near. Come the to Vid room, and we shall witness the birth of our great god!" Hien looked over his congregation and nodded his consent, allowing them to head for the vid room. Then he snapped shut the volume in his hand, and clutching it to his chest, he walked over to join Garet as they too headed for the vid room.
The vid room was not really a vid room. It was an old place with a new name. It was more of a large ampitheater, with room enough to fit the entire congregation of 70 plus followers. Three of its walls were ornately decorated with depiction of aliens and eggs. The fourth was in stark contrast to the rest. It's surface was worn smooth and covered over with a multitude of viewscreens, all of varying sizes.
The screens had been mounted onto the wall at the beginning of the monastery's occupation, with the specific purpose of being ready in anticipation for the birth of the alien. Dark for years, they now were glowing and ready, all displaying images of the same figure.
Father Benedict, no longer laying prone, had swung himself upright, his shriveled old legs hanging limply off the edge, while he cried softly into his hands. Garet could imagine his own shocked expression on his face. This was not good! The congregation still thought that Benedict had wanted this! They still were ignorant to the fact he had a change of heart at the last minute.
Garet looked at Hien, and Hien nodded, seeing the trouble also. He stepped forward to soothe the congregation that now began to mutter. "Brothers, see what joyous day this is?! Father Benedict is fairly crying with joy!!" Hien stepped back to Garet's side, seemingly pleased that the flimsy lie he had spun to them. Garet was not so sure that they would buy into it, but then saw congregation calm noticeably.
Then Benedict did something that could not be smoothed over with a lie. He slowly looked up at the camera's mounted on the wall, wiped his eyes, and stood up. With one hand clutching his bent and malformed back, he hobbled over and looked directly into one of the camera's at his eye level.
Garet didn't think it possible that a face that old and kindly could look angry. He was wrong. The wrath of god personified was in Benedict's face. His lips curled upward into a snarl, his gapped and rotten teeth gritted together. His eyes burned with an unnatural fire. Then, with a noise that brought the bile off the back of his throat, he spit on the camera lens and cursed Garet. Still snarling at the camera, he rasped, "Rot in hell, Garet, you'll rot in hell."
Then a coughing fit overtook him, and he retreated back to the stone slab.
The coughing shuddered his frail body, left him wretching and gasping for breath. Then it came again, worse this time, and along came the seizures that raked through his body. He fell against the table, hands clutching a spreading red stain on his robes. Somehow, he had enough strength to manage to get himself back up onto the slab
He lay there, back arching as he clutched at his chest, now bulging in and out as the alien held within tried to burst free. In a fit of spasms, Benedict relinquished his grip on his bulging chest and griped the edge of the stone slab until his knuckles turned white. He was screaming now, and the skin under his robe began to make tearing noises as the alien inside repeatedly thrust itself up and outward.
Thick, red blood began to bubble out of Benedict's mouth, running down his cheeks, forming little rivers in his crowsfeet. Then the xenomorph popped free of it's dying shell, and with a final spasm, Benedict stopped screaming and lay still. The thing hissed wildly, its skin covered and coated in Benedict's red blood, gnashing it's tiny, frail teeth.
Garet looked on in a mix of wonder and horror at the marvelous, repulsing thing that seemed to stare straight back at him through the view screens. It was all he had hoped for and more. It was beautiful! Garet watch as it slowly coiled it's snake-like body and nestled down to feast in the remains of Benedict's shattered chest.
Garet was suddenly brought back to reality when he became aware of Hien's presence. Momentarily angered at the disturbance, Garet whirled on Hien. Then he noticed what Hien was subtly pointing at. The congregation was staring at Garet, with looks of hurt and betrayal in their eyes. They had gotten the not so subtle meaning of Benedict's dying words.
Father Benedict was exactly that to most of them. Garet saw it now. While Garet was incapable of it, Benedict had taken many of them in, and had been exactly the Father his name was truly meant to imply. And Garet had betrayed him, and in doing so, all of them. He looked at the cold, hard gazes that were directed at him and realized the cost of his actions.
"These people may yet follow me," he thought, "but they will never trust me. Never trust me." Then Hien cleared his throat, and stepped forward to address the congregation, "Brothers, let us continue with our sermon, with a renewed sense of meaning now that this marvelous creature that is now present with us."
They all rose, and following Hien, they returned to the courtyard and kneeled once again to pray.
They came three days later. The newborn had developed a nest where it had been born, the stone slab and finely depicted wall covered over by layers upon layers of alien resin. It tended to sleep most of the time, it's pitch black body curled into a fetal position underneath the stone slab. On the third day, though, it stirred and then they came.
It was during the early morning that Garet first became aware of their presence. During his morning stroll through the woods, he heard a distant humming coming closer, and turning about on the path, he saw their hover-tank as it nimbly flew just above the tops of the trees. He knew at once that they had come to disband the monastery.
They were a basically a SWAT unit with a special purpose, to disband these alien worshipping monasteries. Some of the other monasteries had been hit over the past months, but Garet never knew that they were this close to his monastery.
They were still miles off, and he would not have seen them were it not for the plume of dust that they threw upward in their wake. Turning back, Garet ran full out down the path, heading back to warn the others. Garet kept himself in peak physical condition at all times, so as he bound over roots and jumped over dips in the path, he was not even breathing hard when he rounded the bend and the monastery came into view.
"Plenty of time... I've got plenty of time," he spoke softly to himself as he hurried towards the side entrance, "plenty of time." He was inside then, running down a side corridor, heading towards the inner courtyard. Hien stood in front of the fountain, looking over the lot of people bowed before him, when Garet ran in shouting.
"RUN!!! THEY'RE COMING!!!! GET TO THE SHIP RIGHT NOW!!!!"
The congregation still did not trust him, and they looked to Hien fore conformation of Garet's warnings. Hien glanced once at Garet then nodded and joined in the warnings that Garet cried out. Their lack of trust in Garet was infuriating, but understandable. "It doesn't matter now anyway," he thought to himself, "I'll deal with it once I get myself out of here alive."
Garet knew what would happen. The SWAT units had learned the hard way that most of the monasteries would not come easily, and after the first two attempts on different monasteries had left the units dead, they had learned to shoot first, then sort out the rest. Garet also knew that they would no longer be able to come back, for they demolished the monasteries afterwards.
Hien was following his train of thought, and he also knew that these people would have to pay for driving them out. Hien nodded while they ran, and stammered between breaths "I'll... get... the alien!" Then he turned down another corridor and circled back, robes flying out behind him.
Hien was halfway across the courtyard when he heard the front doors of the monastery blow off their hinges. Then he was at the stairwell to the catacombs. Light from the flickering torches bounced off of his sweat dampened glasses as he practically jumped down the stairs, taking then three and four at a time, his hands pressing against the cool stone walls for support.
He heard orders barked out from above, and heard the clattering of armored feet trampling across the courtyard. He gripped the lever for the massive stone doors in his gritty hands and pulled as hard as he could, flabby muscles straining under the exertion. With a click the lever gave way to the sound of stone grinding on stone as the doors pulled open.
Then he heard the scitter of talons crossing the antechamber towards him, and he quickly flipped the switch again, to reverse the doors cycle and open the out doors facing him. He reached up and wiped off his glasses, then the outer doors strained open, and the darkness inside stirred.
Hien dropped to his knees, dim light seeping down from the courtyard and mixing in with the torches. As the light bounced and reflected in the beads of sweat condensed n his glasses, Hien began to chant. A low chant that slowly grew in volume.
He heard the scitter of talons coming towards him, and he threw his head backwards, staring into space beyond the stone ceiling. The clicking grew louder, and he clasped his hands in front of him. Something wet and slimy dripped onto his face, and he began to sing.
The xenomorphs lithely clung from the ceiling, climbing across the surface as easily as it would crawl across the floor. It's long tail swished lazily behind it as light bounced off its glistening, ovoid head. It was above Hien, and he closed his eyes as more and more slime splattered across the lenses of his glasses.
"I praise you, my god," he whispered as the thing detached itself from the ceiling and tore into his robes and soft flesh.
Garet kept running, now at the head of the fleeing crowd. The sound of his feet hitting the hard stone was like the beat of a drum, but he wished that he could just run as fast as his heart was going. Behind him, the mass of the congregation, 70 all together, ran as fast as he did, some faster, but for those unfortunate few at the back, it was to no avail.
Half-way down yet another side corridor leading to the ship awaiting them at the back of the monastery, part of the SWAT unit caught them. With a click of the auto-load being switched on, the SWAT team opened fire down the corridor at the congregation. At the back of the fleeing crowd, bodies twitched and fell as bullets tore through gray robes and pink flesh, shattering weak bones and limbs.
In seconds, masses of bodies lay tangled and bleeding on the corridor floor. Garet ran faster. Then the screaming started. Garet looked back over his shoulder just in time to catch a glimpse of a black shadow pass in front of the guards. It was lightening quick and once it had passed, the guards lay on the floor, throats torn out by a spindly, taloned hand.
Hien had done it. The alien was free, roaming about the monastery. It was a double edged sword though, the alien being free, for they were still within it's reach. "RUN FASTER!!!" He yelled at the mass of people behind him. He looked forward to see the massive ship resting on the landing pad just outside the corridor. He looked back behind him, and yelled again. The alien was clinging to the walls, running lightning fast towards them, spiraling in its course as it went from the walls to the ceiling to the walls to the floor and over again.
It was at the far back of the crowd then, and suddenly it had one of the followers. She screamed aloud as she lifted off of the floor by her red hair. Her eyes filled with terror as the alien dragged her back down the corridor. But then, almost as if thinking better, with one final scream, threw her against the far wall and viscously tore downward from her stomach, gutting her.
Garet looked away as the red cascaded to the floor of the corridor, and felt sick. He had never been closer to death. Though not seemingly possible, he managed to run faster.
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Marines... we are LEAVING!
