The Nature of Predators - Gojid Refugee (2/9)

First | Next 

Memory Transcription Subject: Talpin, Gojid Citizen

Date [standardized human time]: September 27, 2136

No one was prepared for the predators to fall from the sky, without the aid of any vehicle. When the images came across our television set, it was of humans gliding down into military bases, dangling from fabric pouches that slowed their fall…after leaping all the way from orbit. Our air defenses were designed to take down transports, not to hit freefalling lifeforms that hadn’t shown up on radar. When Terran boots started hitting the ground, landing atop us without warning, our soldiers panicked. The savage beasts had no trouble mopping up the bases that were supposed to protect the cities, and began their march toward our village. As days passed, waiting for the furless terrors to appear, I was in mental agony.

Part of me wished that we’d gone to a bunker, even though the Terrans seemed too primitive to soften us up with orbital ordnance; Berna likely had a point about that being the first place the predators would go hunting for captives, with lots of prey penned in one place. It might be wisest to hunker down in our home, play dead with everything powered off, and hope their squads didn’t go sweeping from door-to-door. Local communications remained online, warning us of the human convoy heading straight for Blessed Fields. It didn’t take long for others to panic in attempts to flee; graphic images of a stampede were conveyed, before cutting off as the reporter took off running as well, with the Terran soldiers’ arrival.

Any hopes of the Great Protector shielding us from harm were dashed, at this point. I was beyond terrified, with the knowledge lingering in my head that I was a prime meal candidate to them. There were real flesh-eaters prowling our streets with machine guns, right outside our walls. Like Berna had noted, if the Terrans made it here, we were all doomed. This…this was the end of our species. At best, we’d become their Thafki: the cradle had fallen, and that meant they were keeping us alive to be cattle. I imagined a hearing Gojid would detect screams of anguish outside from neighbors, either trampled in the stampede, which had reversed course away from the predators—or being ripped apart by their grubby hands. Which one was a worse possibility?

I don’t want to be the reason Berna gets taken in the first wave. I should do what’s right, and turn myself over to them…spare my family for a little longer. There’s no fighting, given how effortlessly they wiped out the military.

The harsh truth was what the employees at the store had said. If someone had to be eaten, it should be the Gojid who could never be a full, complete member of society, and who was a drain on the entire herd. Bravery was using myself as bait, the only outcome that might buy time for my family. With tears streaming down my face, I checked in on a sleeping Berna; in my mind, I told her goodbye. This would hurt my sister, to discover what I’d chosen to do, but I wasn’t going to be a liability when our lives were on the line. Perhaps she’d understand my choice about how to go out, trying to protect the ones I loved. I inched open the front door, after checking through a crack that no predators were nearby to be alerted that our home was occupied.

“Slowly, Talpin, slowly,” I told myself internally, jotting it down on an imaginary whiteboard. “You can’t hear if the door’s making any sounds. Waking Berna would mean it’s all for naught.”

My heart pounded like a gasping fish, filled with the sickening dread of what I knew would happen when the humans got their tainted hands on me. I needed to focus, not to wind up as a one-man stampede. Maybe…there was a way to lure them away from Blessed Fields? Predators lost critical thinking abilities to their cursed bloodlust, which geared their brain toward single-minded killing drives. Spotting any Gojid roaming about would inspire hunger, shown by how their dark pupils locked onto any creature that entered their line of sight. If I could somehow convey my deficiency to them, it would make their hunger and cruel urges irresistible. If they growled something at me in their tongue, and I didn’t hear it…

I gagged as I crept down the main road, passing several putrid corpses along the way. It was then I was glad I hadn’t had a final meal before sneaking out—and not just because I didn’t want to waste my family’s rations. In this moment, I almost wished I was sightless instead of deaf. The news’ faraway shots from shaky cameras didn’t capture the up-close horror of ribcages that were literally crushed inward, limbs that were twisted up like vines, and faces stamped in by clear foot indentations. Bile swelled in my throat, as I averted my gaze to the building outlines. I expected to see the humans somewhere by the cadavers, snacking?

It’s nighttime, and as far as I know, they’re diurnal, so maybe they’re resting? If they’re slumbering, that means they’re not moving. The best place to set up a camp is probably in the fields, under the claws. It’s a swipe in the face for the Great Protector faith, as a bonus.

It made sense that their guards and patrols would start out by the gates, moving in toward our home block by block. These Terrans didn’t seem in a rush to finish their work, instead exercising a level of patience that Arxur raiders never had. They knew they had all the time in the world—they’d taken the fight decisively, and never looked back. I slunk through the fields where my father often roamed, prompting plant growth with his arsenal of instruments. Fond memories looped through my brain, like a highlight reel of my upbringing. However piteous others thought my life was, I was grateful that I’d had a chance to live…that I’d been born a Gojid, rather than some nasty predator that would’ve been culled at birth.

A faint orange glow emanated up ahead from the fields, suggesting I was right about where the Terran had thrown together a lair. Silhouettes of tents were barely visible shadows, against the twinkling night sky. Why was I even doing this: serving myself up as bait for a village that saw me as worthless? Maybe I could run off on my own, and avoid the predators for as long as I could. As escalating panic threatened to send me fleeing for the hills, I reminded myself that it was futile; this close to their camp, they’d track my scent through the fields. This was necessary to protect my family, given that one of the townspeople could tell the predators everything, and sic them on Berna and my father.

Salcic’s words rolled through my head, the lip movements still fresh. “I know it sounds harsh, but it’s not like he can run from a sapient predator. His weakness makes him the kind of prey they’d target by nature.”

If there was a better option, I’d have nothing to do with these unsightly monstrosities, but this had to play out like this. My legs kept moving, despite feeling like they were made of concrete. I kept to the fringes with anxiety, unable to approach them outright. Wavering in my resolve, I decided to scout the camp to learn a little about the humans. After all, I’d get to figure out how to tip them off to my disability, so that I could pique their interest. My imaginings of what a predator camp would be like were morbid, so in some ways, it wasn’t as wretched as I imagined. Some of the creatures were snoozing on fabric bags in tents, binocular eyes sealed like abominable vaults; a thin strip of skin is all that hid away the evil that shone within.

Other humans were standing watch with massive guns, or toting about crates and weapons, with a face that could make the sun freeze over in the sky. Even in the darkness of night, the whites of their eyeballs popped out from a solid distance away, highlighting the greedy side-to-side motions of their pupils. I could see them baring their fangs as they talked to each other, likely bonding over the pack’s cruel plans. Unable to lipread their tongue, I tried to guess what they were up to. There was no blood on their pelts, and none were munching on Gojids…which meant they must’ve already sated their appetites, and done so in a way that wasn’t messy. Imagine a beast eating flesh with silverware, like it was a civilized practice!

These humans look a thousand times more ravenous in person than any description does justice; you can see the malice and sadism written all over their features! How can the Venlil bear it?

Feeling my breathing become erratic, I turned my attention to the rest of the camp; it was important to see how many cattle they’d gathered, and whether there was any hope of freeing those Gojids. I could see tents with bloodied Gojids at the human encampment’s core, having been butchered by the predators before they were captured. The terrors had mended some of their wounds, likely deciding who was the perfect breeding stock. That was a thought that sent horror down my spine. Unable to look at the prey lost to a miserable fate, I returned my attention to the guards. One Terran was pacing back and forth, pupils scanning the bushes right near me. It squinted, as if it detected some movement, before shifting a hand to its rifle.

The demon’s other mitt lifted a flashlight, illuminating where I was hiding. I froze beneath the glare of the artificial light, and watched as its hideous gaze fixed right on me. It definitely saw me; I’d never felt so exposed and paralyzed in my life. Seeing its full attention directed on me, and knowing this spasmodic horror was how I’d feel forever, trapped with them…I knew I couldn’t do it, turning myself in. It was a fate worse than death, one which no Gojid in their right mind would subject themselves to willingly. Maybe I did have predator disease. The human hesitated, mouthing something to its partners, but not advancing on my hiding spot. It removed a hand from its gun, and made an arcing gesture at me.

Its lips moved, and while I couldn’t tell what it was saying, I imagined it was some falsehood designed to lure me out. Probably something along the lines of, “We won’t hurt you. We’re here to help. Why don’t you come out, so we can get a better look at you?”

I could see the pointed tips of its canines as its pinkish lips moved, a feature my brain instinctively recognized as a sign that it would eat me—it wanted nothing more than to sample my flesh. It crept forward with slow steps, looking the part of a creature stalking its prey. It likely enjoyed a hands-on assault, but it was ready to reach for its gun if needed. The skin on its face looked slimy, once it drew nearer, oozing the corruption within its pores and genes. Every thought was overloaded by the terrible features on every part of its body. This was the face of something that was incapable of anything kind or good! Falling backward in terror, my vocal cords quivered as I screamed.

Something approached me from behind, making my scream intensify even further. I looked back to see Berna, who had a petrified expression on her face. Her claws were shaking as they wrapped around my shoulders, though she jolted me back to reality. I struggled just to breathe, while the human jogged toward our position, followed by some of its comrades. It was hunting us; it’d targeted us as its quarry! How could I ever avoid it, with its longer legs and my inability to measure the noise level of my own footsteps?

“Talpin! What were you thinking? Run!” Berna mouthed, yanking me back in the direction I’d come from.

Finding myself happy to follow that suggestion, I bolted like my life depended on it—both of ours did. It wouldn’t be possible to avoid those terrors forever, but all I wanted was to get away for now. I cast a glance over my shoulders, finding that the human was giving chase, along with a few packmates. My lungs burned as I urged my stubby legs to run faster, ignoring the exhaustion that’d built after a short burst. The Terrans were gaining on us quickly, but Berna had the forethought to weave back toward the village. In my periphery, I could see orange light exploding with devastating power, suggesting that Earth’s plans for an orbital raid had commenced in full force. Shooting a glance back, the predators on our heels seemed startled by the detonation—that meant they slowed down for a second. Ship outlines breezed over Blessed Fields, reminding me all too much of Arxur transports.

It makes sense that humans use the same vile tactics. These demons must’ve been the scouts for the raid, here only to neutralize the air defenses. The hunting party is coming next.

Doubtful of how much further I could run, I decided to make a beeline for the Town Greenhouse—hoping it’d offer a spacious venue to hide. It likely wouldn’t make a difference, but it was guaranteed the Terrans would catch us if we didn’t try to shirk them. I made my way through the open door, before sealing it shut; it would give us a few seconds, for them to bust through the glass. Berna kept pace with me as we hustled through rows of root vegetables, and I gauged she was winded by how hard she was breathing. Thinking quickly, I threw a basket of jakoes on the ground, and hoped it’d trip the Terrans. The thought of those horrendous beasts taking a spill was the only positive thing that’d crossed my mind since I laid eyes on them.

“Okay, keep quiet.” Berna pushed me behind a bag of fertilizer, before squeezing in next to me. I thought she was only mouthing the words, rather than saying them, judging by the lack of air hitting my snout. “I can hear their bootsteps. They’re still following. I am not letting you die to them.”

I squeezed my claws around her wrist, grateful that she’d snapped me out of my trance, but also wishing she wasn’t here at all. My actions had endangered her, because I hadn’t been stealthy enough sneaking off. Berna could end up as cattle sooner than she would’ve before, and she’d be lumped in as the caretaker of a Gojid weakling. I tried to slow my panting, knowing that its sound would give away our position to the hunters, but I was too out of breath to contain it. There was a sense of helpless dread, waiting to see whether they’d flush us out. I couldn’t go running again. I could imagine the Terran guard’s sinewy arms bulging, as it wrapped its meaty hands around my throat. Being strangled, and deprived of oxygen worse than this…it seemed wretched.

Berna’s face twitched with horror, and I turned my periphery to where she was focusing. Abominable gray beasts were stalking through the aisles, nostrils flaring on their snouts; their maws didn’t even have the decency to hide their murderous fangs, which looked like daggers with a single, morbid purpose in their evolutionary design. Their binocular eyes were slit-like, putting an unyielding glare on their face to show their hostility. The raiders lumbered forward at an angle, ready to pounce once they found where the Gojid fear scent was coming from. While the humans were ugly, the Arxur visage blew their aura of cruelty out of the water. My blood ran ice-cold, knowing exactly how they’d rip us apart in their maws, or pen us up in unspeakable conditions.

Of course the humans summoned the Arxur, to finish the raid properly. They can make the prey suffer more together.

Despair pumped through my veins, knowing that with two species of predators combing through the building, looking for me, I was going to meet some kind of horrific end in the next few minutes. If there’d been any doubts about the fate of the cradle and Gojidkind, seeing this partnership made the Terrans’ intentions as clear as daylight.

First | Next

A/N - Chapter 2! The filthy, flesh-eating monstrosities, also known as humans, airdrop past Gojid defenses; stampedes ensue, and Talpin expects the worst. He sneaks off with the intention of turning himself over to spare his family, but Berna tails him and helps him run off: having lost his gusto at the sight of us, Talpin is happy to comply. As they flee, bombs begin falling...and the Arxur are seen snooping around the greenhouse too.

Will the humans get to Talpin and Berna before the Arxur? What do you think of Talpin's interpretation of our wishes and the base?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!