Millencolin regained consciousness as the darkness slowly faded around him, "What the hell happened?" He wondered silently to himself. "Must've been something I ate." Dismissing the thought, He reached out to retrieve his weapon when he froze. He felt his skin crawl, his body shiver. There is no mistaking the feeling. There is someone watching him. He knows it and he learned to trust it. Someone is watching him. He is sure of it. The eyes of a hunter. Cold, hard, and deadly.
Millencolin looked around. He could feel danger but from what direction he doesn't know. His head hurts, his body ached, and his mind is racing. He cursed silently, "Where the hell are you? Show yourself you bastard" Preparing for an attack Millencolin crouched down and prepared to fire.
He waited. For a moment he thought time stood still. His mind playing games with his imagination. At night every man's worst fear comes to light. Every demon lurks in every corner. Every boogey-man hiding in every turn. For Millencolin, onboard the massive Weyland-Yutani transport ship Iwo Jima, it wasn't any better. In the depths of space, it's worse - much worse. He started running.
In space, no one can hear you scream. At least that's how the saying goes. Only this time, they are fatally mistaken. Millencolin definitely heard a scream. A savage, primordial scream. It pierced the cold air like a knife. A scream full of hatred and rage. Sounds of gunfire followed. Millencolin didn't hesitate. He moved fast and ran towards the dim sound of battle.
The hallways of the ship seem endless. Following the sounds of war, Millencolin ran as fast as he could. Hoping against hope he'll arrive in time to help. He could hear men screaming and guns blazing. That savage devil roar that captured his attention earlier can clearly be heard. He is getting closer. It is just a matter of time.
As Millencolin raced through the darkness to face the uncertain, a million different thoughts raced through his mind. His buddies are out there fighting and dying. They are out there shooting at something. Something is out there shooting at them. What it is he doesn't know. Almost there. A couple hundred yards more and he'll find out soon enough.
As Millencolin got closer and closer to his destination, the battle is showing signs of ending. The roar of automatic weapons are dwindling. Mens screams are silencing. Finally, as he rounded the last corner, the awful truth dawned on him "I'm too late," Millencolin thought ,"My buddies are dead. They're all dead and I'm alone"
Red, blood, bodies, gore, and death. Those are the words that greeted Millencolin as he stepped through the open door. A massacre is an understatement. It was a scence straight out of Dante’s Hell. What he saw defied description.. Heads decapitated. Severed arms and legs Bodies shredded. Lifeless, bloody forms of skinned humans hanging limply from the ceiling. As long as Millencolin lived he will never in a million years forget what he saw that night. The sight of that awful scence of carnage burned forever in his memory. It will haunt him for the rest of his days. These were his friends. These was his squad. Everyone dead in the most possible violence. Dead each and everyone.
Lost very deep in thought Millencolin surveyed the carnage before him. It was unbelievable. How can someone manage to decimate an entire squad of heavy armed and well trained marines in less than 15 minutes? Millencolin believed that whatever hit them did it hard and fast. A surprise attack? Shell casings littered the floor. Bullet holes are everywhere. He stopped to examine a couple of shells and magazines. It looked to him like some of the men didn't even fire their weapons. Seems like they were shooting in all directions at once. This was a one-sided battle.
Dead bodies of fallen marines are on the ground. Some are hanging from the ceiling. Most without their heads. All killed in a matter of minutes. Unbelievable. His squad didn't stand a chance. It was a surprise attack done with deadly precision. A movement caught his eye and he turned to see a couple of dead bodies gently swaying on the far corner. He walked towards them to take a closer look.
They were hanging upside down, suspended by their ankles from above by what looks like some kind of rope. They didn't die from just the hanging though, the instrument of their death had been something much worse. They had been disemboweled while they were still alive. Large, jagged holes had been sliced in their abdomens, the contents drained a bit of a time. The pain would have been enormous. Blood from numerous holes dripped down through the body like paint running down a wall. Millencolin kept his eyes on the body to distract himself from where the head used to be. These marines were not only disemboweled, they were decapitated. They're heads along with most of their spine was ripped right off. Millencolin noticed that the initial cuts were made with a sharp object, a knife perhaps, so the skin could be parted and stripped back. The contents could then be pulled out by hand. It was methodical. Perfect. "Jesus Christ, What kind of monster did this?" Millencolin needed answers. Just then a faint moan grabbed his attention. He turned around and saw, of all things, a survivor.
His name was Pfc. Johnny Torrez. Millencolin found him propped up against a wall with wounds from a dozen different places. He doesn’t look too good. He approached him slowly and knelt down beside him.
"How did this happen Johnny?" Millencolin asked.
Torrez looked up, shocked to see a live, familiar face,
"Millencolin? You're still alive? Get out of here. Get help while you still can." Millencolin ignored him, "Damn it Johnny! Answer me. How did this happen?" With his last remaining strength, Torrez started talking:
"I don't know. It all happened so quickly. We were ambushed. One second we were just hanging around talking and the next all hell broke loose. We didn't know it until it was too late. We just grabbed our guns and started firing in all directions. I don't think we killed anything. Hell Mill, I don't even think we hit anything. Our shots went wild. We had no targets."
"So someone was shooting at you?" Millencolin was confused.
"No, Mill. Look around you. All the shells here belong to us. Look at the dead. There's no bullet wounds in each and every one."
"Wait a minute!" Millencolin interrupted, "What the hell are you trying to say? You're telling me 12 marines armed to the teeth couldn't protect themselves from an unarmed attack?"
"I said no guns Mill, I didn't say unarmed."
"How could you guys let them get so close? How could you let those things parade right in the middle of a firefight and not take a single one out?" Millencolin didn't get a chance to get his answer. Before Torrez could speak, his eyes glazed over and death took hold. He took his last breath before his body slumped dead to the floor.
Millencolin was confused. He was scared. He needed answers. He needed to get away. He left the room and started running.
Millencolin started running as fast as he could. Never looking back fearful of what he might see behind. Visions of nightmares past resurfaced. His fears ran rampant. The cold, dark hallways of the massive transport ship didn't offer any solace. The only comfort he has is the Iwo Jima is on an automatic course for Mars and he should reach the red planet in 48 hours. Now if he could find out what’s happening and stay alive until then.
In the distance, Millencolin heard a sound that stopped him dead on his tracks. It was the piercing cry of his enemy. It's savage banshee scream can be heard throughout the depths of the ship. Millencolin listened to the screams continue, a new horrifying thought dawned on him. "This bastard is hunting and it's coming straight for me"
In a split second Millencolin made up his mind. He knows now what he must do. Right then and there he decided to fight. No more running away, No more hiding. No more nightmares. He is a Colonial Marine. The best of the best. Trained to kill. Marines don't run away from fights. They finish them. He turned around and faced his enemy. He loaded his weapon, chambered a round, and started running back. "I'm coming for you, you son-of-a-bitch," he silently said. Aboard the space vessel Iwo Jima, the hunter has now become the hunted.
Millencolin raced towards the direction of the sound. The dim darkness of the poorly lit ship was all he could see.. “Just like the good old days patrolling the mines at Theta IV” Millencolin thought. He embraced the darkness. It made him feel comfortable. He feels safe. If he couldn’t see what he’s shooting at, the enemy wasn’t about to see and shoot him. Just as the thought entered his mind it quickly disappeared. Something is wrong. Millencolin thought. Those eyes are back again. Someone is watching him.
Millencolin slid away from the hallway to an open door and slid his back against the wall. Someone is definitely following him. He was close and he could feel him. He was nervous but he made sure he kept his sweet ass calm and quiet. The sound of a misplaced step froze his thinking. “He wants me to know he’s back there” Millencolin thought. He tensed and preapared to strike.
No one passed, no one came. There was only darkness. Millencolin stayed where he was. Someone was out there alright, someone who was very skilled in his own right, which suited him just fine. Because Millencolin has his pulse rifle. And he knows he is one bad mother with it. He checked his ammo and chambered the gun. He was just turning to check behind him when a hand closed over his throat from the rear.
Instincts took hold and saved his life. He twisted his head enough for his neck muscles to wrench free of the strong grasp. He spun away and started firing. The shots struck nothing. The attacker was gone. “ Son-of-a. . ., He came up behind me and I didn’t even hear him. . .” Millencolin thought. A movement beside him caught his attention just as a savage kick pounded the back of his head. It was dark. Millencolin couldn’t see his assailant. A blow thrusted him back against a wall and another one was headed for his face. Millencolin deflected the blow and countered with a powerful strike to his opponents solar plexus. It was Marine training designed to incapacitate the enemy. To his surprise, It drew just a grunt when it should have resulted in a kill. “What is happening? No man could still be standing, no man!”
Millencolins mind worked frantically. What he was up against here was clear now. It wasn’t human. It was a monster the likes he has never imagined. A rustling sound followed a kick that lashed upwards striking his wrist. The pulse rifle went flying. Another foot came toward his face but Millencolin ducked and twisted away. He managed to get an arm out to block the next blow, which was aimed at his ribs. Millencolin stepped back to gain space from his attacker. He faced his assailants direction and looked up. He was terrified in what he saw.
It was a monster. A monster straight out of the deepest, darkest space. The figure was about 7 and a half feet tall. Fucking huge, Incredibly broad and visibly powerful. Green skin rippling with solid muscles under an array of body armor. His face was ugly. A dozen strands of what appeared to be dreadlocks hanged from his head. Cold, hunters eyes followed his every move. Two sets of monstrous jaws moving simultaneously in concert together with four pairs of elephant-like tusks protruding from each one. “This is my monster,” Millencolin thought, “It’s a predator and I’m it’s prey.”
“The monster isn’t even breathing hard and it just offed Iwo’s marine guards,” Millencolin observed. The predator lunged and Millencolin was slammed against the wall. He felt himself being lifted up and thrown sideways. “This bastard is playing with me.” Millencolin thought. As he started to get up a savage kick to his back drove him down again. A fist slammed his head and stars exploded around him. Dazed, Millencolin felt a pair of iron-strong hands grip him.
The enemy’s powerful hands hoisted him up and jammed his body against the nearest wall Millencolin saw the rock-hard fist pull back directly in front of his face. The fist jumped forward. Millencolin shifted his head sideways just before impact, timing it close enough to feel the whoosh of power thundering by. The blow impacted hard against the metal wall. The predator screamed. Millencolin kicked the figure’s knee, then dropped and rolled away. He retrieved his rifle, twisted, and fired all in the same motion, finger never leaving the trigger. Bullets screamed at the figure who incredibly remained in motion. Millencolin couldn’t get a fix until the final volleys. Bullets hit the predator in the arm and shoulder before disappearing into darkness.
Millencolin could not believe his eyes. His attacker just faded away in front of him. He listened for a hint of sound that might betray the predator’s position but there was none. A trail of bright green liquid was on the floor though and Millencolin saw that was good news,”I wounded the bastard. I hit him. The son-of-a-bitch is hurt and bleeding. If it bleeds, I can kill it.” With a new resolve, Millencolin got up and followed the blood trail.
He had to outthink this adversary. “It’s a predator so comfortable in the role of the hunter. . .” Millencolin thought. “Why not give it what it wants? It wants a prey, I’ll give him a prey. “ Their last exchange a few moments ago convinced Millencolin that he had no hope of winning a hand-to-hand struggle, though he felt certain that was what his enemy wanted. It was something he had going for him, perhaps the last thing he had to make use of.
Millencolin followed the trail to the engine room. It’s a good size room where the main engine and engine machinery was kept. This is the heart of the ship. The room that keeps the ship moving. The room where mechanics run the ship, maintain the ship, and forge tools and supplies to fix the ship. He felt the predator’s presence as soon as he passed the entrance.
The predator was waiting. As soon as Millencolin approached it tackled him to the floor. Millencolin took the impact on his bent knee and felt it buckle. The leg went numb and rubbery but kept himself from falling down. Millencolin learned his lesson from the last fight. He could not afford to let this fight draw out.
Still holding tight to his rifle, Millencolin faked falling. The predator released his right hand from the grip and formed it into a fist; it would try for a killing strike to Millencolins throat or face. Millencolin was ready. He avoided the blow with a deft twist and lowering of his head. In the same motion he tore the predator’s grip. The predator responded by throwing him violently to a nearby furnace.. This area is hot. White, burning coals inside the furnace help steam the ships water. Millencolin raised his rifle only to have the predator kick it off his grasp. The pulse rifle sailed through the air and landed in a nest of hot coals.
Millencolin saw a red-hot poker next to the furnace. He reached for it. The metal was hot, glowing at the tip. The predator in response raised his right hand above his head. Out of nowhere a foot long blade came out of his wrist. It was a death struggle. The hunter against the hunted. A fight to the finish.
he predator came in first with an overhead blow. Millencolin deflected it and tried to use his poker with a backlash motion. The predator simply ducked and brought the side of his wristblade hard into Millencolins ribs in a roundhouse fashion. His meager armor took most of the impact but the blow stunned him. He lost his breath, but recovered his senses in time to see the predator lunging at him. The menacing blades slashed through the air, its sharp tip heading straight for him. Millencolin turned at the last instant, knocking the blow aside and ramming his own poker into the side of the predators face.
Now it was the predators turn to feel pain. A hiss sounded as flesh burned and blackened forming a welt across the predators right cheek and jaw. But the predator came back at him as if it didn't feel anything. The predator launched a furious flurry of blows as Millencolin tried to retaliate. He barely managed to ward it off as he was forced backward against the furnace.. A furnace that was burning with white-hot hell fire.
Seeing the prey cornered, the predator reared back and launched a savage overhead strike with its wristblade. At the last moment, Millencolin threw up both hands in an X-block that caught his opponents wrist between his forearms. Millencolin used the opening to ram a hard knee up into the predators ribcage. The predator screamed. Millencolin sees his chance. As it doubled over, Millencolin grabbed the beast by the bulk of his armor vest and brought it forward, face first, toward the searing white-hot flames. Millencolin felt his own hands paying the price as he jammed the predator’s face and chest against the sizzling hot coals. Millencolin heard burning flesh and smelled the sickening aroma of frying skin and hair. He waited until the predator’s struggle all but subsided before releasing the pressure on the now lifeless frame. The battle has ended. Millencolin won. He regained his balance and managed to walk a few feet before collapsing to the floor from exhaustion. He was dead tired and he’s going to sleep.
Millencolin regained consciousness as the darkness slowly faded around him, "What the hell happened?" He wondered silently to himself. . "Must've been something I ate." Then he remembered. The Longest Night. Memories of that awful nightmare all came flooding back to him. Memories of his dead friends, torn bodies, bullets, blood, darkness, and the predator. These are memories never to be forgotten. Millencolin slowly stood up and examined his surroundings. He was safe. Now it’s time to head home. “Semper Fi, Marines.” Millencolin said silently to his fallen comrades. Gradually he stood up, took one last look at the predator, and slowly walked away.
-Robert
