Predator: Homeland

Last man wins 2

Sahara limped underneath his touch, it felt weird, but good at the same time as his long, sharp nails scratched the surface of her skin. It felt like a great massaging session.

The Yautja leaned closer to the point where his locks tickled her neck. Sahara flinched, an uncomfortable pulse rose from the pits of her stomach. Something is up with this male.

"H-hey!" She protested, trying to push herself away from the large goliath.

He moved no muscle, his grip tightened which to Sahara, suffocated her.

"Let...let me GO!"

Again, her refusal of his actions made him frustrated. No female can resist a male that is so overwhelming, especially a male from his patriarch's bloodline.

He may just be testing her, but he felt angry, angry that forcing himself onto her isn't making her budge at all...isn't making her surrender.

With his eyes mindlessly keeping a watchful glare towards the unknown, Agnak-tör thought of another way he could extract anything useful from her. Their way of life, behavior, diet, how they reproduce...

How was his younger, less experienced brother able to approach her with no caution? How was Zen'nogre able to speak to her so casually without having her lash out like a female in wild heat?

An idea blew into his mind. Right, the translator - like his other comrades, his isn't as advanced as the leader, but with the help of a medium, he could maybe understand her more, and she could understand him more. 

A swift push and Sahara lay flat, face first, onto the floor. Agnak-tör felt no guilt as he trampled towards the exit, leaving the woman alone.

_____

"Alpha team! You hear me?" Dan rattled through his gadget.

He and his group heard gunshots a few seconds ago, now it's just silence. A small prick of beady sweats trickled down his defined jawline, something was wrong, a gut-wrenching curl in his tummy made him imagine the worst.

"Conor?" Dan spoke, but nothing on the other side.

"Sir? What about them? What about the injured?" His remaining, able subordinate asked.

A nasty groan came out from one of the seriously damaged men, "t-these...things the- they're...monsters!" He struggled to let out.

The leader crunched his face, removing the magazine from his weapon and checking the last remaining bullets. A grim look made its way to his face when a nasty surprise presented itself in front of him.

"Not enough..." he whispered to himself.

He looked back at his men, most were in agony, the rest that lay flat and quiet on the ground were... were just corpse.

"Sir?" His subordinate's voice was wavering, like all hope of winning against these monsters drained from his eyes.

"Sir what do we do?!" Panic overcame him.

Dan turned his attention swiftly towards him. But then a low rattling echo came bugging them. So close that they could almost feel their breaths.

"Sir - wha-," the male was stopped when an impactful force blew an unexpected tunnel in his abdomen.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" One of the injured men struggled to slither across the pebbled ground, blood formed a red carpet trail as he tried to escape.

It was too late for him however, his muffled sounds froze Dan in his crouched position. The man was ripped into small pieces with the use of wrist blades. The remaining, live men were mangled in different forms, blood, guts, and their suffering growls.

The screeching noise that emitted from those monstrous creatures made Dan snap. As soon as he could reclaim his calm, Dan crawled slowly in order to escape.

"Conor..." he whispered through his walkie, "Conor, you there?" He asked again.

A moment of silence and static came through, "Sir?" The sound was a bit fuzzy but Dan could hear it.

A relief made Dan's heart skip a beat, he wasn't the only one left.

"We're okay... we had many casualties though... there's two of us left... Gil - he's badly injured... I don't think he can make it any longer."

Dan slipped under a tree root, where mud piled, "hand the walkie to him..." Dan ordered.

"S-Sir...?"

"How are you doing?"

"Not good sir. They blew my legs off. Ugh... I'm losing too much blood," Gil struggled to speak, and Dan could tell that too.

"How many? How many are left?" Dan nervously asked.

"Sir... there's only... we were only able to kill three and injure two. These, these ones are stronger, heavier and more skilled than those we encountered before..."

A silent pause from Conor.

"What is it? You still there?" Dan asked nervously.

Conor from the other side had a hitching sigh, "Sir..."

"What is it?"

"Sir... it's Sahara..."