Alien Breed

I fall into a feeling I haven’t felt since, well, maybe puberty. I’m not sure what it is. It’s just a feeling, a connection to something higher than myself.

Am I actually turned on by an alien?

I relax into his protective muscles and keep quiet, bending my head to see as much as I can without getting caught.

Zakar is not the same species as Turin. His skin is spotted, red and grey. His teeth hang from his lips, sharp as nails, and his eyes are more wicked than the devil himself.

When Zakar does not answer him, Fassbender walks until he’s near our door.

I press my spine into Turin’s chest. I can feel his heart. It’s steady. How the fuck is he so calm?

I can hear Fassbender’s hurried breathing. His face is as white as a ghost. He’s worried. More worried than I’ve ever see him.

Zakar hisses. “You will be a fun kill,” he says.

Using the tranq gun, Fassbender opens fire. Three darts fly into Zakar’s neck and chest, but the alien laughs and tosses them to the ground.

“Your weapons are useless, human,” he growls and leans low.

He looks like he could strike at any moment.

Fassbender stumbles back, even falls to the ground, but Zakar allows him to stand and take out a pistol.

He fires once and pauses, trembling. He fires again. When the third bullet enters where Zakar’s heart should be, Fassbender drops his arm to his side.

He swallows, sweat building.

And then he turns. He sees us.

His pupils dilate, pinholes to fear. Before he can scream, Zakar pins him to the ground. Roaring into the air, he nearly blows my eardrums.

“You are sick,” Zakar screeches. “Your mind is diseased.”

Fassbender stutters. “We are your makers. Stand down.”

Zakar traces his fingernails across his skull. “It would be so easy to crack your head open.”

He lifts Fassbender by his cranium.

“Easier than cracking an egg,” he says, slurping his tongue.

He throws Fassbender across the room, through an unbroken glass window. Fassbender coughs and tries to move, but Zakar lunges on him, clicking.

His fangs extend, a row of teeth, unhinging his jaw until his mouth opens as big as his entire head.

It’s the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen.

“No!” Fassbender screams. “No, I can’t die—”

Zakar laughs and steps off of him. “Run while you can.”

Given the chance to live, Fassbender stumbles and runs into the jungle for cover.

At this point, Turin grabs my attention. Pointing toward a vent, he nudges me up. I grab the frigid metal, and he hoists my ass upward.

I expect him to give me a set of instructions, but he simply closes the vent. I tap against the exit, but he ignores me.

Zakar cackles. “I can smell you, Turin. I know you’re hiding. I let the bastard go because I wanted to share his death with you. Come outside.”