The Nature of Predators - Becoming a Predator (5/10)

First | Prev | Next 

Memory transcription subject: Narlem, Krakotl Exterminator Fleet Comms Technician

Date [standardized human time]: October 2, 2136

Throwing out Nathan’s flesh supplies had been a grave error of judgment. To say that my thoughts were a jumble of misery and self-loathing would be an understatement. If these humans had the empathetic morality, they would’ve wiped themselves out like the Federation said they had, or at least sealed themselves off from the galaxy. Who would want to interact with a creature that had to do…this? As my foot shells struck the sidewalk, I didn’t know if I could go through with my plan. The guilt was chewing me up already, and with the emotional turmoil plaguing me, I wished Terrans had zero feelings like I had imagined.

I passed by hundreds of predators in my search for food, as my binocular eyes scanned for any morsel that could feed me. It was awful to be looking for animals, and thinking of them in terms of my catch. The urbanization in this area meant that wildlife was scarce, which made the task more difficult; that must be why flesh rations were packaged and issued. There wasn’t enough to go around if it wasn’t shipped from elsewhere. The answer to how they planned to increase the readily available prey was obvious, given that they’d found lots of new targets in the stars. It was odd to be on the other end of the survivalist equation, thinking of breathing beings as a calculation for my benefit.

My breath hitched in my throat, as I noticed one warrior predator in blue attire; it was obvious from the numerous weapons clipped to his belt, including two guns, that this was an enforcer of the government. The frantic hunger must’ve been visible in my eyes, because I noticed the creature staring at me. My legs pivoted around into a green area, knowing that if I found animals, this would be where they were. Clearly, other Terrans who weren’t satiated by their rations had the same idea, since many were strolling around the paths with wandering eyes. With the regime’s suspicions raised, there was no going back now. I had to fit in with the pack, and find a quarry with haste.

“Don’t feed the squirrels.” I read a sign aloud, which had a bushy-tailed rodent in a crossed red circle, and turned my gaze for any of these morsels. This had to be the area’s prey, and too many predators must be setting bait out for it to be efficient. My gaze saw coarse fur moving by a bench, causing my hands to clench with nerves. “Oh no. That’s…the one.”

What will the human with the gun think, if I pass up the prey all of the predators are here for? I don’t want to be put down, as someone that can’t suppress my feelings to do “business.” I’m so sorry, squirrel.

I stalked toward the squirrel with light footsteps, and sensed several gazes burning into my scalp. How was I going to live with myself, after knowing what it felt like to hunt? My stomach growled loudly, reminding me of its imperative; even after I caught the squirrel, I wasn’t sure how I was going to chew and ingest its bloody corpse. One step at a time. My upper body dropped down so that my arms almost touched the floor, and I tried desperately to channel bloodlust to give me the nerve. No boost was forthcoming, except for the recurring thought that I didn’t want to die right now.

The oblivious prey animal froze and stared at me, allowing me to get within a few inches of it. Remembering what I practiced in my apartment, I jumped at the quarry, before my Krakotl mind could talk me out of it. My hands tightened around its fluffy body, squeezing as if my life depended on it; my grip strength was much greater in human form. I could hear shocked exclamations around me, as the predators were impressed by my excellent execution. A few seemed upset that their prey had been snatched away, so I hoped I hadn’t violated the natural hierarchy. My heart was hammering at a million miles an hour, offering unhelpful pangs of distress as the squirrel struggled. The human definitely felt sympathy for the creature, despite needing to kill—

Before I could finish lifting the asphyxiating creature, which I’d put in so much effort to learn how to catch, an agonizing electric shock passed through each muscle in my body. My Terran form spasmed under the current, causing me to release the prey and flop to the grass. I gasped in anguish, feeling tears roll down my face; it was a miserable few seconds, unable to control my movements. A rough predator hand shoved me onto my stomach, and I felt firm fingers around my wrists. Cold metal dug into my skin, after the beast positioned my arm behind my back, and then chained another, connected band around my second limb.

Fear rushed through my veins, terrified by how quickly it had downed and captured me. What had provoked interference in the form of a physical assault? Maybe my hunting technique was off…wait, why were spectator humans tending to the squirrel?

The blue-clad warrior hauled me to my feet. “Get up. We’re going for a ride downtown.”

“What? Where are you taking me…and why?” I pleaded.

“You’re under arrest for animal cruelty. You have the right to remain silent. Anything spoken can and will be recorded and used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided to you. Do you understand these rights as I have described them?”

“Cruelty…it’s a good thing. We’re predators!”

The warrior’s binocular eyes widened, as if I’d said something utterly alien. Several humans were milling around, recording the scene on digital devices.

“Do you understand these rights as I’ve described them?” the predator repeated, and I voiced assent to appease him.

I allowed the Terran to herd me away in obedient silence, not sure how to process what just happened. Why was I being charged with cruelty, for doing what predators were supposed to do? I had no idea why the notion of harming animals would be codified into their laws, unless they were attempting to reform their populace to meet Federation scrutiny. I must’ve missed that memo. Life meant nothing to creatures that saw it as the source that fueled their stomachs, and that was certain. Wasn’t it?

Maybe Terrans have convinced themselves out of bearing this guilt; they apparently feel that they’re more civilized than beasts, and that executing animals with tools is less barbaric. So that makes their hands feel less dirty than mine do now?

The human shoved me in the back of a stout car, and I winced from the awkward positioning of my arms. My knowledge of predator tenets wasn’t enough to hold up under scrutiny; there was also no telling where they were taking me. What if the punishment was forced conscription, so I’d be coerced into killing Krakotl in the upcoming battle? It was possible humans just executed pack members they viewed as problems, tortured them as punishment, or sent them off for grueling labor for the rest of their days. Maybe the cruelest Terrans were assigned to animal slaughter, since they had less empathy.

Regardless, I was entirely at the mercy of these ghastly creatures, without any autonomy or clues to my fate. The officer pressed my thumb onto some scanner, grunting after receiving my identity from a computer system. I was silent as he drove me away from my neighborhood, though part of me wanted to know why he hadn’t agreed with my common sense claim that both of us were predators. Nathan’s fridge made the flesh addiction seem beyond salvation. It was similar to how human hunters hadn’t appeared on the “predation” search page, almost as if they were in denial over their sinister nature.

I inspected the soulless, forward-facing pupils of my captor in the rearview mirror, and weighed whether the abomination even saw himself as the depraved monster he was. At the least, these humans didn’t operate like any predator I’d ever been briefed on; they didn’t act as though they were beholden to their bloodlust. Maybe, somehow, they believed they could defeat the hunger that drove me to madness. Noah hadn’t snapped the way I had in a day; was a filthy hunter in possession of greater self-control than me?

After digesting that even other humans were shocked and appalled by my brazen hunting in broad daylight, true shame set in. If I failed Inatala because of beastly urges, perhaps I deserved this curse. Could I really claim that I’d succumbed to my desires just to lend service to the Krakotl people? I was no better than Gavin, when life got difficult, so I deserved to be exterminated with the rest of these Terran scum.

---

Cruelty begets cruelty. Those were my words to Gavin McLean, when I told him that I knew what humans are.

Yet rather than humans encouraging the slaughter of lesser creatures, here I was, trapped in a small room behind a metal table, for the crime of animal cruelty. Had I been less afraid at the time, I might’ve laughed at a predator issuing that charge. It felt wonderful to be able to flex my arms once the warrior guild removed the handcuffs, but they left me with plenty of time to collect my thoughts. Looking at myself in the mirror on the wall was more than I could bear. That day back on the extermination fleet, Gavin had been outraged at me for “heartless cruelty.” I had rebuffed his claims of deep affection for his children as interest in lineage dominance, but the research I’d done and emotions I’d felt told a different story.

Maybe that’s the lesson Gavin wanted: to accept that he really cared for his kids? Fuck it, I shouldn’t have rubbed in the pain of how his world and family was dying. Now please, let me be a Krakotl again!

Nothing I had seen meshed with the unfathomable atrocities that the Federation documented—that glee in violence—but that didn’t mean I could forget humanity’s other side altogether. It would be intellectually dishonest to dismiss irrefutable Farsul research, especially in light of what that behavior pattern would mean for my people. Acknowledging their sentimental capability didn’t mean I had to gloss over the massive threat Terrans presented to sapient life, and how, likely with cognitive, willful cruelty, they were taking notes on the Arxur’s cattle practices. My nerves became more rattled, once I reminded myself what these simians could be capable of with their captives.

As if on a mind-reading cue, the door clicked open, and two humans in layered attire found seats opposite me. Every forward-facing gaze was intense, but their observance felt more pointed and scrutinizing; it was like they were ready to pounce on the slightest emotional cues. My bulky skull was tight around my woozy brain, and the binocular vision I was cursed with shrank even further. My breathing wouldn’t slow down, through the terror of what might happen to me. What if this was the “court of law” my park captor mentioned, and a poor assessment meant I’d be put down on the spot?

One man in lengthy gray-atop-white attire slid me a paper cup of water. “Easy. Don’t go having a panic attack on me, Nathan. We just want to talk. Close your eyes for a second, take some deep breaths…count in your head if it helps.”

“O…okay.” Not daring to rebel against anything he said, I heeded his instructions; with darkness enveloping my vision, I felt blind. Focusing on slowing my breath helped a little, but the fear was still hovering over me like a cloud of doom. “This is, um, all a big mistake.”

“Well, my name is Brandon, and that’s Vinny. We’d like to ask you a few questions, and see how the entire mishap came about. You can help yourself by cooperating. Honesty is the best policy.”

“Yeah.” I laughed nervously, hating the stilted barks that projected from my throat. “Of course. What can I answer?”

Vinny pinched the bridge of his nose. “For starters, what possessed you to try to strangle a squirrel in a public park? You were moving it toward your mouth…um, like you were trying to eat it live.”

“I don’t know what came over me. You know what happens when we’re really hungry…bad ideas,” I murmured, as my stomach rumbled with agreement. “I…shouldn’t have let my bloodlust get out of hand. I’m sorry.”

“Your bloodlust? Can you elaborate on what that means? If you’re having thoughts of hurting or cannibalizing people…anything of that nature?

“Oh, no, I apologize if bloodlust’s not the correct word, sir. I don’t dream about hurting anyone…” Except killing all of humankind, up until a few days ago, but I shouldn’t say that aloud. “What happened to me was the natural result of trying to refrain from…you know. Doing what has to be done.”

Brandon’s pink lips curved down. “Nathan, we have no idea what you mean. We can’t help you if you don’t help us. What exactly caused the…incident in the park? That doesn’t just happen because you’re a little hungry.”

“Well. This is going to sound crazy, but you know, honesty is the best policy you said! I thought it was possible to avoid eating animals altogether. I must’ve believed the propaganda we tailored toward the Federation, which is quite embarrassing. It’ll never happen again.”

The humans’ confusion was intensifying throughout the interview, though my name drop of the Federation seemed to clue them in to my understanding of the predator-prey order. Once they realized that I was using descriptors from the prey side of the equation, they might see right through me; they already knew that I wasn’t acting like a true Terran citizen. Sweat beaded along my neck, as my skin felt hot from anxiety. The only move I could think of, if pressed on the topic of the Federation, was to come clean about what had really happened to me. I hoped they were intent enough on deceiving herbivores to leave me alive, and use me as a bargaining chip.

Not like I could go home to Nishtal like this. Look at me.

“This has something to do with the way those aliens talk, doesn’t it?” Vinny asked. “You told your arresting officer, ‘We’re predators’ like it was a self-explanatory statement. How much of the first contact vids have you been watching? Let’s start there.”

I gulped. “Um, why would you debate that we’re predators? We hunt…we’re apex predators, right? Please explain; I don’t understand. Really!”

Brandon raised his eyebrows. “I’ve never met a human who thinks of themself as a predator. What traits do you assign to a predator?”

Should I recite the Federation’s moral judgments, even though that would offend them…and further dig myself into a hole?

“Taking advantage of the weak. Exploitative, gluttonously greedy, and calculating.” My throat felt dry, and I ducked my head to avoid seeing their reactions. “Trying to dominate anyone and everyone for personal gain, without a care for their feelings.”

Brandon nodded. “And do you want to be called, or associated with, such traits, Nathan?”

“N-no.”

“Neither does virtually any person on Earth. Someone who is called a predator has dark connotations, and I believe you know that. Yet I can see in your eyes that you somehow don’t connect with that, so I’m explaining in good faith.”

“It’s not a good thing. It certainly won’t earn you social accolades to go around declaring that we’re all predators, and the end is nigh,” Vinny interjected. “So what made you believe those wretched things the xenos say about your own people? Something must’ve happened.”

I froze under the pressure, not having a suitable lie to offer in place of the truth. Judging by how poorly my masquerade had fared in public, my odds of deceiving the predators by answering like a Terran were slim. If they thought I was lying or not cooperating, they could put me down as an unproductive pack member. I had no clue how these beasts would react to hearing that a Krakotl had been cursed to live as a filthy human, and that the extermination fleet would obliterate their planet within months, at most. What if they thought I should be executed for my actions? Maybe I could offer limited and faulty intelligence, in exchange for them helping me to survive as one of them. Either way, they’d have no reason to respect me, once they realized I wasn’t a true kinsmen.

Brandon lowered his voice to a gentler growl. “It’s okay. You can tell us.”

“Don’t hurt me, please. I…just want to go home,” I croaked. “I’m…not really human. I’ve been trying to blend in and adhere to the viciousness of predatory life and behavior, but it’s all too much. My name is Narlem, and I was a Krakotl up until two days ago.”

The humans scrunched their noses, not seeming to recognize my species’ name; that must mean I was present on Earth before the extermination fleet set sail. Vinny pulled out his holopad, while maintaining a forced mask of neutrality. Brandon peered over his shoulder, observing the search results that showed up about us on the Terran internet. The Earthling warriors hadn’t started throttling me or disparaging me yet, which was a good sign. Now that I’d confessed the truth, there was no going back. I raised my eyes with the slightest hope, and waited for them to offer some kind of feedback.

Brandon blinked several times. “Sorry. Too many damn species to remember. So…let me get this straight. You’re telling me you’re an alien bird who got turned into a human? And this happened…how exactly?”

“I was on a warship that…was heading for your planet, for Earth, a little while in the future. I, um, mocked this human pilot in a downed ship, right as a bomb was heading for this very city, and he cursed me to see what it was like to really be human. I thought the galaxy was finally rid of your kind when I went to bed, but then I woke up in this vile body,” I rambled, as tears streamed down my face. “How was I ever going to make it with these feelings in this culture? It’s horrid; I hate all of this. And I am really hungry, I tried to eat fruit and it did nothing, so I was just trying to get a meal to survive because I’m too cowardly to die.”

The two humans shared a long glance, with their binocular eyes pointed directly at each other; I wondered if they were communicating how best to rip me apart. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if they spewed curses, after my open admission that I’d been delighted when their city and its inhabitants were turned to ash. My interrogators took several seconds to process the information, before Vinny flashed his teeth. Harsh barks rippled for several seconds, making me flinch. His pale skin turned red from the intensity of his laughing fit, and he slapped his knee with a howl. Brandon couldn’t stop himself from snickering, and I realized the duo found my nightmare to be absurd and hilarious.

“You don’t believe me,” I sighed.

Vinny pursed his lips, trying to rein in his laughter. “I couldn’t keep it in. This is the most batshit story I’ve ever heard. I mean, no, we totally believe that you’re a Krakotl who came here to murder us, but was magically transported back in time as a human. And you’re trying to act like some Federation concept of predators—that much is clear.”

“I…thought you said you’d help me.”

“We will,” Brandon said, shooting a stern look at his partner. “What you need is a full psychiatric evaluation; your state of mind is a threat to yourself and others. I’ll have an officer take you to a mental hospital, where they can help you undo whatever caused this.”

“NO!” I threw myself onto the floor, thrashing around in a panicked fit. “Not the facility! I don’t have predator disease…I’m telling the truth! Ask me anything about Krakotl or Nishtal. ANYTHING! Things humans wouldn’t know. I’ll prove it.”

“Easy, buddy. Don’t make us restrain you. You’ll be remanded into state custody for 72 hours, before your admission is reviewed—”

The door to the interrogation room swung open, and the two officers whipped around to face the newcomer. I recognized Caleb within the warrior guild’s pelts, which caused a relieved snarl to cross my face. I never dreamed I’d be so delighted to see a cutthroat predator. If anyone could assist in getting me out of this bind, it would be my brother; my pleading eyes turned toward the familiar human, begging him to help. Going to the facility would be a cruel punishment, even for a curse. I didn’t have predator disease, and if Terrans truly had emotions, Caleb wouldn’t want to see his sibling rot in an electroshock machine.

My only ticket to getting out of here lingered in the doorway, mulling over which words to say.

First | Prev | Next

A/N - Part 5! Narlem goes hunting in Houston, and settles for strangling a squirrel in a public park, right in front of a cop. He's shocked by the charge of animal cruelty coming from a predator, as well as how all the humans are floored by his behavior. When pressed about why he did it, he comes clean about being a body-morphed Krakotl...and the detectives think he's insane.

What do you think Caleb will do, entering and finding out everything that's happened? Do you think this incident finally began to chip at Narlem's walls of hatred for humanity?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!