The power of Rage Nov 27, 2022 22:33:59 GMT -5
Post by Radrook Admin on Nov 27, 2022 22:33:59 GMT -5
The power of Rage
I am bleeding profusely, afraid and alone and wedged tightly in a crevice on this granite cliff. I utter this information repeatedly hoping for a rescue, but my helmet-intercom is now damaged and useless.
Moments ago, I had been in pursuit of the alien creature who now squats on its hairless, blue haunches on the Mediterranean beach below, swiveling its massive triangular triple-eyed head and rapidly sniffing the warm, salty summer air with its rectangular, flaring nostrils as it strives to locate me. Me, the one whom it knows had come very close to destroying it. Such an affront, it could not leave unpunished. So it waits patiently for nightfall to detect me via infra red.
Unlike most humans, I had never succumbed to the neurological numbing effect of their pungent bodily fumes which lulled most of Earth’ human population into crippling hallucinatory lethargy, after its kind had suddenly unveiled their real intentions, and had suddenly launched their devastating, and seemingly irresistible attacks with their superior technology.
Most humans had retreated to safe havens. But I a young woman of age twenty- three? I had been trained to be a hunter, and among hunters, I had become a female elite. Never missing my targets. Never tiring in my relentless pursuit of the alien enemy who had been responsible for the deaths of my parents and siblings. Me? I had become totally focused on one thing, and one thing only, the destruction of the invaders, and the freeing of Earth from their malevolent presence.
This particular one had been on my agenda for years due to its notorious reputation. It seemed to take an unusual pleasure in frightening its human victims' and making their captivity as unpleasant as possible. Because of this I had kept meticulous tabs on its movements, and had finally managed to lure it into isolation from its kin, and totally disoriented on this beach, where it had accidentally activated the trap that triggered the explosion. It had tottered and reeled from the miniature nuclear blast, but the bastard had refused to die. So hours later, I had been sent to finish the task.
Closing in silently from high above, I had it focused in my weapon's sights, when an earthquake destroyed my perch, and sent me falling. I had frantically struggled to anchor myself, but continued plummeting head over heals until i became wedged here, in the narrow crevasse, injured and alone. Yet, I have been lucky. The tepid wind, from the sea below, has wafted my scent away from the creature, and I will be safe as long as it remains that way.
'So close and yet so far!' I ponder as I gaze intently at my sonic blaster nestle in juniper tree-branches just inches from my hand. But if I dare move, if I dare to as much as utter a whimper, it will detect and approach. I breathe silently in quick, shallow spurts to avoid auditory detection. I can clearly hear its slow, loud, rasping breathing, and its constant sniffing of the air, as it ravenously searches for my human scent, but scent-inhibitors are preventing detection..
The jagged edges of my broken ribs lance my lungs. My tendons and ligaments are on fire as they struggle to sustain the brunt of my 210-pound weight. I can feel the blood from my wounds soaking into my interior garments, as my exposed shin bones scrape constantly against the unforgiving stone. Yet I must remain silent and perfectly still to avoid the horror that stalks patiently not far below.
It is finally dusk and the jagged shadows of the granite cliff are remain visible on the sandy beach below. The ocean tide is still partially tinted by starlight, and the ocean waves are beginning slosh against the cliff’s base. But very soon, sunset with its dense moonless darkness will envelope all and I shudder at the thought, at the utter helplessness of not knowing from which direction the creature will strike. The exact nature of its movements, and how I might become a blazing, scarlet beacon in the creature’s night.
Only then will it slowly approach with its gaping jaws, and its pale, snakish snout-feelers groping in my direction, until it finally has me in its mandibular grip sinking its serrated proboscis carefully into my throat, probing for my jugular vein with its scarlet tongue as it holds me in its viselike-grip and commences to slowly siphon my human blood until satiated.
Then, very carefully, as it has done methodically to countless others, it will store me weakened but yet alive, stash me away somewhere near its human cadaver-strewn lair, rendered immobile by its web, in order to always have me at its disposal as all its kin have done to all humans ever since they declared war.
It has finally become totally dark now. My grip on the granite ledge is still firm. numbness has replaced pain. I can now smell its alien stench growing stronger. I can now hear its hoarse breathing interspersed with an occasional grunting growl, as it slowly climbs the cliff in my direction. My blaster is just out of reach, and reaching for it will send me falling. I fear that the water at the cliff's base is still too shallow to break my fall. That reaching my weapon will prove useless, if I am not in the right position to fire it.
If only I had never hunted it. If only I had heeded the warnings and remained with the fearful others hiding deep underground caverns, cringing in fear and waiting for a miracle that was constantly being promised, but which never seemed to arrive.
If only I had not felt outraged at the horrid tales of their alien predation on my world, Earth, and against my people, humans. If only I had not felt outrage at their stubborn refusal to accept any terms of peace, not involving our unconditional surrender. Outrage about their unprovoked, single-minded dedication to our annihilation. If only I had simply curled up and shuddered, as all the others shuddered, and whimpered in fear, as all the others had been whimpering, then I would not be here, now, trapped.
The clattering sound of tumbling rocks on granite 50 feet below, and the scraping sound of claws on the cliff wall, as the creature climbs, interrupts my ruminations, and tells me that it is gradually closing the distance, and will shortly be upon me.
Upon me? Upon the one who had slain so many that I had become a legend offering inspiration to the few remaining humans who believed in resistance rather than fearful submission? How would I be remembered now? As the stubborn, overconfident, foolish female who was warned, but who had chosen the stupid path that most others had the common-sense to avoid?
In a sudden, and overwhelming rage, I release my grip on the ledge, and with one bleeding hand reach for the blaster. Success! Now it nestles firmly in the palm of my hand as I am falling towards the beast about a hundred feet below. The creature did not expect it allowing me to get closer. At 50 feet distance, it suddenly senses my approach. I see it swivel its massive head upwards and our eyes meet. It opens its Jaws in what appears to be a mocking grimace, just before I pull the trigger, the weapon vibrates, and the sonic blast separates its massive skull from its wide reptilian shoulders. I see its headless body tumble off the cliff as I plummet the rest of the way down into the surging tied. I am injured, true. But I will live to hunt yet another day.