The Nature of Predators - A Venlil Governor’s History

From “Human-Venlil History, 12th Edition”

Memory Transcription Subject: Laisa, Tonalu Public Health Minister

Date [standardized human time]: November 2, 2136

It was easy to support the humans’ right to reside on our planet in the abstract. I’d said in my public statements, and on my campaign platform, that they should be treated as people, rather than threats to the Venlil population. Every politician had to pick a side to stand on, and I decided to back Governor Tarva. My acceptance of the creatures felt like it came from a genuine place. In spite of how loathsome their appearance was, they hadn’t conducted themselves like predators, or done anything untoward against the Venlil. Furthermore, they’d been the victims of a grievous attack against Earth, which I tried to tell myself I felt sorry for—even though the thought crept in that our lives would be much easier, if Tarva had just let a few predators burn.

It’s not that I think the Terrans deserved to die; I’m willing to let them live, despite their savage ways. Choosing them over the entire Federation, and species we’ve known for centuries; risking our planet and lives for them? Flesh-eaters can’t be…worth that much.

My tolerance of them was very different from intertwining our lives too deeply, or fighting a brutal war alongside them. It was easy to say that I supported their ability to enter businesses, and that Venlil shouldn’t overreact to their presence. The Terran refugees were fine as long as they weren’t a disturbance to the peace. I’d tried to give them fair services to protect their lives, mandating that Tonalu hospitals would treat any wounded humans that came through their doors. I vouched to worried doctors that the hunters could keep their instincts in check. There weren’t that many that lived in this city, with our smaller refugee camp; I’d passed by a few masked predators on the street, and had been able to cross to the other side without issue. They were docile enough not to give chase, mostly going about their business and staying out of my way. 

My assurances to the public were confident, especially as a few weeks passed without any filmed predation incident leaking; I even repeated Tarva’s commentary that they were just people, despite the fact everyone knew that “people” didn’t…gorge themselves on flesh, and band together in war packs just to mutilate their own kind. Turning a blind eye to the most basic of standards took a great deal of willpower, but I managed to be welcoming and treat them as equals. I told them to send requests for anything they needed, since I governed them too now. I hadn’t interacted with a human up close, however, and assumed their features’ horridness was exaggerated. They couldn’t have been that diabolical-looking, if Venlil in the exchange program willingly stayed friends after seeing their faces.

Little did I know how wrong I was about the shocking evil that permeated from their face. When I’d told the humans they could come to me with their concerns, one had shown up unannounced at my office—without a mask. My staff would’ve never sent someone in without an appointment, so either they didn’t dare to stop the beast, or they were…removed. The hunter’s eyes invoked fear for my very life, as the ghastly pupils pointed straight at my face; their red veins were visible in their horrid whites, barely hiding their innards. A sickening feeling clenched my heart, terrified that I was trapped here, in my office, with no escape. These were the features of a monster! This was what I’d been telling other Venlil to tolerate, and to allow into their establishments.

When a Terran’s binocular gaze leveled at a Venlil, it brought an indescribable rush of terror; there was no doubt that their full attention was directed at the tasty target, which was me. There was a promise in those beady, empty, hostile voids they peered through, that I would be torn apart; I could see the tip of canine teeth between the slightly-parted lips, and the massive nose designed to channel blood scent straight up into its brain. I despised how helpless it made me feel, so weak in comparison to its sinister visage. My mind identified it as a threat in a fraction of a second, compelling me to run; my faculties threatened to shut down, seeing that there was nowhere to go but toward it. I couldn’t breathe. Those forward-facing eyes seemed to suck the oxygen from the room, as it fantasized about gorging my flesh.

Why did we let them live on our world, why do we want them on our planet right next to us, ahhhhh! Help! Ahhhh! We don’t want to stare down this…killing machine. Go home!

The prey-crushing, bony ridges on the back of its hand rapped against my door, a threatening sound that made me whimper. “Sorry if I startled you, Laisa. You said we could come to you with any concerns, and…well, you’re the only one that speaks kindly about us. But you look like you got buffeted by a fur dryer. Is now a bad time?”

“P-please…” The successive plea not to eat me lodged in my throat, as I desperately tried to compose myself. This was my fault, since I was the one who made my own citizens interact with Terrans; was I above them? I deserved this punishment, after appealing to them. Besides, the only way out was to say some words to this human, and I didn’t want to aggravate it—ugh, her by going back on my word. “Come in.”

“Thank you.” The abomination’s lips curved up, barely holding in the drool swelling in her maw and restraining itself from brandishing her vulgar teeth; an involuntary shudder passed down my spine. She seemed like she’d painted her lips to be more like the human blood color, almost looking like they were wet with animal fluids. Wait, were they? “I won’t take up too much of your time. I’m Cindy.”

My heart pounded, and I could barely hear her words over the roaring of my blood; my head felt like it was being squished together. “C-cindy. Got it. H-how can I…help?”

“I didn’t think you’d be frightened. You talked about us like we’re people.”

“You are. S-seeing you just makes my brain scream, but I’m sure you g-get used to it in time.” I don’t know how you ever get used to humans: this dizzying, nauseating rush that makes it near impossible to think. How can you look at that face, and not see an evil sadist on the brink of attack? How can Tarva believe they can live peacefully, and face them daily? “Not that you’d understand p-prey minds, t-that feeling.”

“If you think we’re not terrified, with aliens trying to kill us—besides, we have phobias, you know. I’m afraid of flying, so the spaceship was…” Cindy sighed, averting her hideous eyes: a small mercy. “I thought you knew we had feelings, every bit as much as you did.”

“I meant no offense. The tests say y-you do,” so we have to trust those feelings to stop you from giving in to the burning urge to slaughter every prey animal in sight, the darkness I can see so clearly, “…and I b-believe science. D-doctors said it was dangerous to have you around the injured, in hospitals, but I know you just g-go about your lives. I…want you to do that, um…” anywhere but here. Keep to your own vicious, grotesque kind. “…and to b-be allowed to visit places. Yeah, your credits s-spend as good as any customer’s.”

“Who are you convincing? Me, or yourself?”

“What?” I stiffened, worried about provoking the beast. That barking voice, and the blood-stained lips; this was an animal, trying to act like something it was not. It would inevitably fail. “I do b-believe in tolerance. My rules have really tried to n-normalize your presence. Has someone, um, not been tolerant enough of you? I’ll…listen.”

“No, this was a mistake, Minister. I…apologize for disturbing you.” Why was the creature being so polite? The words didn’t mesh with the staccato sounds of the language, or the movements of her features. “I just thought it was a health and safety concern—and just outright discrimination—against us human refugees.”

I tilted my head. “Wait. What was? You c-came all the way here; tell me.”

“They wouldn’t let me donate blood at the local blood bank. They need some human blood in store for emergencies; it could save a life. They said it was too dangerous.”

Just the thought of this menacing fiend having access to a collection of Venlil blood brought an icy rush to my own veins; I was shaking from head-to-toe, that this beast had figured out where the easy cache of prey life-fluids were. Cindy should know the reasons humans couldn’t just waltz right into a place like that! What happened if they saw a bunch of blood packets, and walked past freshly-bleeding Venlil who’d just gotten their veins tapped by a needle? The saliva watering in their mouths, and the irresistible tug of their bellies signaling to be filled: no predator could be expected to resist that. It would hardly even be their fault when they lost it. That was without even mentioning how suicidal a Venlil nurse would need to be to prick a hunter with a needle, and expect the beast not to retaliate for being wounded.

I didn’t even think about how dangerous it’d be for nurses to administer first aid at hospitals; I was only thinking about how the predators had the right not to die, since I didn’t want to just…leave them. What about our right not to die?

Would even Governor Tarva trust the humans not to gluttonously gulp down blood, if presented with an easily available supply? I didn’t know whether to send a communique to the blood bank to add guards to its storage, in case the human refugees got peckish and tried something; this level of cunning in predators was terrifying. Then again, maybe it was better to let the humans have it, since that might prevent them from sating the craving on a live Venlil instead. Perhaps we should just approach these camps to barter, breaking pretense and offering them blood in advance…but then, they’d get a taste for our blood. It might worsen their instincts past the point of control, and then, I couldn’t walk to the other side of the street without being chased!

“I’ll look into it, pred…C-cindy. There has to b-be a solution that makes everyone f-feel safe.” I stood from my chair hastily, and bolted from the room; I couldn’t take being in the same space as a human any longer. “Have to go. Need…a walk.”

The Terran gawked as I sprinted as fast as my crippled legs would allow, panic consuming me. I knew I had to get away, and that the beast was after me. Bursting into the fresh air, after tearing through our vacated lobby, I didn’t care where I was running. The predator had followed me out; I could feel the unconcealed eyes boring into my skull without looking, and it made my skin crawl. It shrieked words after me, but I didn’t care what it said. I was going to keep running until I collapsed. This was like a nightmare, where if I slowed for a second, those grotesque arms would ensnare me and the canines would begin ripping away my skin—I liked my skin on my body! There was another screeching sound, of tires, before something massive barreled into my sternum.

The Terran is powerful, as hard as metal; my bones are pulverized. A rampage on the streets…and something stabbed through my gut. It’s wet and sticky. How can something that big be that fast?

The world spun around me, as I looked up to see a dented truck; the Venlil driver hopped out in horror, freaking out over what had happened. I’d run into traffic and gotten hit by a vehicle, hadn’t I? I brayed for help, but the panicked, crying driver got back into the car and sped away. How could a herdmate injure me and leave me to my death? My head slumped down toward my gut, where I saw that I’d been pushed into a broken stampede barricade, meant to funnel a mob in one direction. The metal pole had been sticking out at just the right angle to catch me in the stomach. I’d thrown myself into danger, and in the haze, blamed the human for what was beyond their species’ logical limitations. My regret wavered, as I looked to my periphery and saw the predator running toward me: drawn to the blood. Others steered clear, with the beast drawing near.

With the last vestiges of my strength, I wriggled myself off of the pole, and fell facedown in the street. Cindy screamed at me when she saw my effort to unimpale myself, as cars screeched to a halt or swerved around the predator dashing into traffic. Some seemed to consider running her over and helping me. The blood flow had intensified from the wound, no doubt a glorious sight to her wanton eyes. The human’s arms flipped me over and snaked under my legs, before she carried me to the sidewalk. I saw just how dilated those binocular eyes were, darker and more strained than ever. The beast looked alert, raging impulses blacking out any trace of those feelings they supposedly had, like us. This…was a public safety hazard.

“Stay calm. I’m a doctor,” the human growled, in a voice as firm as stone and as calm as a flowering meadow. “I’m going to help you. Just sit still, and stay with me. Easy does it.”

A weak breath rattled my throat, as I tried to suck in the air for words. My skeleton didn’t feel like it was still in one piece; the pain was excruciating. “D-doctor? Trained to be around…blood…that’s why…”

“Someone, call an ambulance. She needs help!” Cindy shouted, but the pawful of passersby had bolted from the scene. “Please, she’ll die! If a human calls this in, they’ll send exterminators, not medical aid. By the time the EMTs are cleared to go in…”

A part of my brain dimly registered what the Terran said. She’s worried they’ll send exterminators, not medics, if she calls for help? She’s right, she’s actually right: they would. I’m going to die…I’m terrified. I don’t want to die, but neither does the human; if an exterminator sees this…

The predator’s hand pressed over my wound, applying strong force with a scarf she’d pulled off her neck. “A human carrying an injured Venlil into a hospital would cause a stampede, and also get blamed for this all. We can’t stay here like this. They’ll call exterminators, and you need to be taken somewhere with proper surgeons.”

I feebly pawed at the human’s torso, but my arms slipped off. “Don’t…leave. I…don’t want to die…alone.”

“I’m right here. Hold on. Shit, I know you won’t like this, but I’m going to take you back to the refugee camp.” Cindy’s face was fading like it was within a pool of water, as she hauled me toward a vehicle; I could feel it speeding off, as the final stab of panic was being taken to the humans’ encampment. So many predators who could do anything… “We’re going to save you. Just hold on.”

Those were the last words I heard as my blood pooled on the seat cushion, and I drifted away from the realm of awareness.

---

My eyes were sealed firmly shut, as a comforting drowsiness lulled me into slumber; the chemicals were peaceful, compared to the nightmare I’d had. It was a strange dream, about a human barging into my office. The hallucination suggested I wasn’t the least bit comfortable around the predators. When I decided to throw my lot in with Tarva, I hadn’t thought about what that really meant for the Venlil populace, had I? The idea that Cindy could’ve resisted me gushing blood in the street was laughable; it would’ve been all but rubbing the beast’s gigantic nose in front of it. I tried to move, before the numb reverie was broken by pain. Several body parts either wouldn’t comply with the commands, such as the digits of my arm, or were immobilized by some sort of cast.

I blinked my eyes open with alarm, spotting a group of bipedal primates in a heated debate with each other. My breath hitched in my throat, realizing I was at their mercy and being fed with their intravenous chemicals. Wait, I am—wait, what? The immediate fear was met by confusion, that I’d been saved by a pack of wild predators; they’d seemed to have treated my wounds, and I couldn’t find any bite marks to indicate that they’d taken so much as a nibble of my flesh. Was that what they were arguing over: whether it was worth giving in to their appetites? I strained an ear to listen, befuddled about how I should feel toward the humans.

“Cindy, what made you think it was a good idea to bring her here? We spent hours in the surgical suite, with her teetering on the edge of life and death. It could’ve easily gone the other way. A Venlil dying in the refugee camp; they would’ve burned every man, woman, and child in this place!” one human hissed. “They still might, if they find her here and jump to conclusions.”

Cindy slumped her head. “I couldn’t just leave Laisa to die, Mikkel. We just…had to get it right and do what’s right, and we did. Whatever she acted like with me, she’s made decrees that helped us, and saved some of our lives. I scared her enough that she ran into traffic. I couldn’t live with thinking that I killed her…I really thought she was on our side.”

“The naivety. Even the Venlil that ostensibly help us; they’re either posturing for when we supposedly take over, or they just want to tuck us away in the corner where nobody has to look at us. We’re bloodsucking monsters to them.”

“They can’t all hate us. They can’t blame us for everything.”

“Yet they do. The only good predator is a dead predator. Not even Tarva herself would’ve cared about watching every human burn a few months ago; not many truly do to this day.”

It felt surreal eavesdropping on the apex hunters, who had no way of knowing I could hear them from this far away. Those predators were just talking like ordinary people, worried about whether the exterminators would come after them for helping me; they’d loomed over me for hours, likely able to poke at my innards, and sealed me back up. Cindy felt guilty that I had spooked at the sight of her, which happened because I’d done nothing but let my mind tell me she was evil and bloodthirsty. As ghastly as the beasts were to look at, I couldn’t help but feel a crushing sense of guilt for how I’d reacted to them at every step of the way. Distancing them to a hypothetical, I’d been happy to say other Venlil should deal with them, yet I didn’t believe in my heart that they were people in the same sense as us. 

I thought we should’ve let their planet die, while they were here terrified of being accused of doing something predatory and being burned, for the crime of saving my life. Why had they helped me, with all of that at stake? My pulse quickened, which made the humans hurry over. Cindy brought me a glass of water and a plate of fruit mash, and I forced myself to look at her eyes. The chest-bursting dread felt like acid circulating through my veins, which caused the Terran doctor to hesitate as she heard the escalating beeps. I couldn’t make my mind not run amok at her features, but I noticed now that the inky pupils seemed to have a flicker of concern in them. What strange, repugnant, kind beasts they were. I fought to push down the fear, and the fog encircling my faculties lifted a bit.

“Thank you,” I coughed, as the human nervously tilted the water glass toward me—knowing my cast would make it difficult to pick up. She seemed ready to patiently feed me next, though I wasn’t the least bit hungry. The nurturing and caretaking behaviors were so incongruent with their hideous features, but I saw why they’d passed the empathy tests; there was something else inside the beasts. “I’m sorry for panicking. You…saved my life. I owe you everything. I don’t know how to thank you.”

Cindy’s lips curved up in that infamous snarl, sending another jolt to my ribcage. “You don’t need to thank us. I’m just happy to see you awake and talking.”

“It’s a miracle of medicine that I am; quite the opposite of your…presumed finesse at killing. There was a lot of blood. How did you keep me alive?”

The male physician, Mikkel, had his lips concealed beneath some blue, plastic face mask. “It took several pints of Venlil blood. Your heart stopped on the operating table, you know. Now watch, she’s going to ask if we drained the blood from a Venlil we caught or something; or assume we had it lying around in a chilled glass to drink. Ooh, scary humans.”

Shame stabbed at my chest, realizing my mind had almost shot to that exact line of thinking. “I’m sure it was nothing like that. It’s odd you would’ve had a supply for Venlil at a human camp…or medical supplies at all.”

“We don’t trust alien doctors to take us in, or actually try their damnedest to save us. You really think Venlil wouldn’t just…let a predator die, and say it was an accident?” Mikkel’s forehead wrinkled in what seemed to be a sneer, and his eyes shone with bitterness. “As for the orange blood on tap, that’s in case one of you gets injured here. It wouldn’t matter if they slipped and fell; you don’t believe shit just happens around humans. We can’t risk you dying here, and Tarva agrees, so she gave us Venlil medical supplies.”

“I’m sorry for…using them up. You’ve done more than enough. I can’t believe I was upset by the thought of you visiting a blood bank; then you turn around and have packets on paw to patch me up, while we’d have none for you.”

“Ding ding ding. That’s why we won’t go to a Venlil hospital. It’s not for us.”

“It should be. You deserve the same care and compassion you’ve shown to me.”

Cindy placed a hand on my wrist, sending a crawling feeling up my fur. “We’ll be here until you’re better…until you’re back on your feet.”

Back on my feet. I hoped that day would come as soon as possible, because I had so much to do.

***

Post-Transcript Assessment: Why It Matters

The humans did tend to Minister Laisa for months, with multiple broken bones that left her having to relearn to walk. Physical therapy was a painstaking experience for the Tonalu health minister, an ordeal just to get “back on her feet.” The future governor of Skalga spent months living among the Tonalu City refugees, learning about Terran customs; she, of course, sent word back to her government that she was well and unharmed, not wanting to be the one that caused exterminators to be called on the gentle giants. The accident and subsequent recovery was an experience that would change her life, and transform her from a hesitant advocate of Tarva’s party to one of the most staunch pro-humanity politicians. 

Laisa would initially become famous for sending aid to Terran refugees, and she enacted some of the most extensive human health rights laws during her tenure in Tonalu City. During her run for governor, she promised citizenship for all human refugees, and her first action in office was repealing Veln’s visor law. She was swift to cozy up to the United Nations once in office, supporting the pacifist government of Earth unconditionally.

Essay Questions:

• Using your knowledge of mid-22nd century events, what influence do you think Laisa’s near-death experience had on the course of Venlil-human history as a whole?
• Explain how the denial of healthcare to the earliest Terran refugees contributed to the struggles that many faced, with even supposed pro-human health ministers like Laisa failing in their policies.

All rights reserved. © by Thanks For Reading and Supporting Publications.