WARNING: This story contains graphic depictions of violence, and foul language. Reader discretion advised. 

Prologue: The Chill

The snow fell softly in the Zokarrian forest. Covering everything from the tall trees to the ground in a shimmering white blanket. The quiet was eerie. All sounds that remained were amplified. The wind blowing through the trees, their tentative steps through the snow, their trembling breaths, with the cold revealing a small cloud of air with every exhale. They were scared, and with good reason. 

The Monar Tribe was completely exposed out there. They could not outrun them, there was nowhere to hide from them, all they could do was hurry, and return home to the safety of their underground cave village as soon as possible. If what they heard was true, if they had truly returned, then they may lose their hunting haul, or worse, themselves become the hunted. But the leader held steadfast. Kept his brethren on the straight and narrow. Told them to keep their guns close, and their eyes on the trees. If they stuck together, they could defeat them. 

But they were there. Stalking them from above. They could see their high body temperatures through the trees. Hear their rapid heartbeats. Even the heat they released with every breath. With the snow packed under them, their movements would be slowed by 23 percent. The low temperatures, heavy layers and hours of activity decreased their stamina by 47 percent. They were dead already. And they didn’t even know it yet. She flashed her eyes and signaled to move into position. He acknowledged, and they moved. 

They heard the crack of a branch being bent above their heads, and quickly pointed their guns in it's direction. Their breaths quickened. They scanned the trees for any signs. Then they must fire away and not let up at first sight. What made these off-worlders so dangerous was their element of surprise. No one knew how they did it, but they could hide anywhere. Strike from anywhere. They were like demons. Some thought them unkillable. If the Monar were to survive, they had to fight like demons. Be swift, relentless, and cunning. 

One of the youngest took several shaky steps back. Trembling. Never removing his eyes from the tree line. But he was straying too far from the group. 

Something bumped into the back of his shoulder. He jumped and turned his head, and it was only a tree trunk. 

He stood just to it’s right, as close as he could for cover. 

They heard another cracking in the branches above. Some snow fell. They retrained their guns on it. 

They tried to spot their target, but there was just nothing.

But the more they looked, the more the older, savvy leader noticed the slightest of signs. A slight bend of a branch. Pushed down under some unknown weight. 

He could not see anything there, but he knew it wasn’t right. 

More noise emanate from above. 

They couldn’t look away from the branch, but they did not know exactly where they were. Or how many there were. 

The young one’s hands were violently shaking. 

Heartbeat racing. 

Breath quickening. 

They could all feel something approaching. 

It got closer. 

And closer. 

And CLOSER! 

And-- 

(SNAP) (ZIIIIIIIP) “AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

The young one leapt forward as something cracked into the floor behind him. 

He fumbled around as the others turned to the sound of a.. Roar? Scream? 

(CRASH) 

Something... clearly fell from the tree and slammed into the floor blowing powder all around it. 

The young Monar finally picked his gun up and rejoined the pack as they observed the fallen entity. There, emerging from the snow, they saw some large, girthy shape stand up with a groan, only visible by the snow all over it. It left a white handprint on the tree as it steadied itself. It shook what looked like its head and snow fell off of it. The only things indicating there was still a face there were it’s two green luminous circles, that constantly flickered, shrunk and expanded as it tried to regain it’s senses. They had to be some sort of eyes. 

It grumbled something in an indistinct alien language. Then those two circles went wide as it noticed the 12 Monar men aiming guns in its direction. With confused expressions on their faces. 

It glanced down and blinked twice at the snow on it’s invisible body. Then back up at them and blinked again. 

Before it could finish uttering a low “Uhh”, The Monar blasted it with everything they had. 

The faceless beast squealed and flailed around dodging the gunfire. It got tagged several times in the face, chest and legs, revealing flashes of some grayish armor. 

It bobbed and weaved and finally ducked behind a tree. It could not seem to think of a better defensive maneuver besides furiously scooping up clumps of snow and dirt and throwing them in the Monar’s General direction. 

She looked down at the mind boggling display before her. She saw him miss the Monar with his grappling hook, and pull himself to the floor, completely giving away his position, and leaving him wide open to attack. That’s 3 of the biggest rules of this assignment broken. She sighed and put her head in her hand. But she resolved, thinking the upside of that was that their focus was taken off of herself. So she must take advantage of the situation. 

She grappled up to a higher branch above the Monar’s heads. She pulled a disbursement grenade from her pack and set it. She aimed it just right, and dropped it in the midst of the firing Monar. 

One of the Monar heard a small noise to his side and stopped shooting. He saw some small object with a blinking light. The blinking got faster. 

“Grenade!” He yelled to his men in their language. 

Before they could react it exploded and sent them flying. 

The Hunter noticed the energy blasts finally stopped, and looked back to see the commotion. “HA!” he said. He quickly got up, dropped his snowball, and ran over to the next nearest tree. He dug his claws in and climbed quickly. 

The Monars were disoriented and scattered. The leader stood first. A thick fog lingered in the air. He could barely see two feet in front of him. 

“Is everyone alright?!” He said in his language. 

(Groan) 

“My eyes are burning!” 

“I’m fine! The shit in my pants is warming me up!” 

“Good! Does anyone see the beast?!” 

“It’s gone!” The other one said. 

“We’re all gonna die here!” The young one said, shaking in the fetal position.

“Get up off your ass, Boy!” The tough looking one barked, pulling the young one up to his feet. “We’re not gonna die. We’re gonna get out of this together. Now help me salvage the haul.” 

All the scattered Monar tried to gather themselves and get back to each other. 

“Hey guys!” The other one said. He looked where the Beast was, and he saw some strange brownish green liquid in the snow. “I think it’s Blood! I think one of us hit it!” 

“Regroup, Men!” the leader said. “If it bleeds, we can kill it!” 

Just then, his breath was stolen by a sudden impact in his back. He coughed and his blue blood came out of his mouth. The unimaginable sharp pain stuck there and paralyzed him. A long hissing exhale emanated from over his right shoulder. He forced his head to turn, and he saw nothing but the tree trunk. But then a flash of green appeared looking ahead of him. He’d have gasped if he could. As it turned to show two piercing green shapes staring into his soul, it’s full visage faded into view. A ghastly metal mask, two small horns, a fin in the middle, going towards the back. The black of its eyes, and the thick tail coming from the back of its head, reminded him of a mackoon. It’s large but thin body was embroiled in shimmering armor and fur-like layers. 

Hanging by a line on it’s belt, it hoisted him up by the blades sticking into his back with only one hand. 

Then it spoke, in a feminine voice, in his own language. “All. Meat. Bleeds.” 

His gun was still in his hand. He tried to aim it at her, but she zipped up into the tree lightning quick, as he uncontrollably shot everywhere. She switched her voice to perfectly mimic his. “HELP MEEEEE!” She roared. 

“Chief? CHIEF!” 

Two of the other men trudged to find him. They found the floor where he had bled. But they had to pass two trees. Two trees where she had placed sensors. And once activated, the sensors released metal coils that wrapped around the two men. They went taut and constricted them. They grabbed each other's hands to keep from being pulled into the trees, where spikes made from broken branches awaited them. Their combined strength should have been enough to break this trap, but the rough terrain and temperature sapped their energy. They could feel themselves slipping. 

“Huck!” one of them said. “It’s too late for me! Take my blade! Get yourself free!” He released one hand and pulled a knife from his side. 

“Don’t say that!” Huck said, grabbing his knife hand by the wrist. “I can get us out of this!” 

“Please! You have to make it back! You have to know that… that I’m sorry!”

“I don’t… Sorry for wha–” 

“And to tell your wife I love her!” 

Huck stared at him speechless for a moment. 

“WHAT!?” 

On instinct they both let go. 

They slammed right into spikes. 

The knife pegged into the floor between them. 

Now Huck is dead.

She would never know. 

“3 Down, 9 to go.” She thought. “The Alphas will be most pleased with this. I hope Jom has thinned the herd some… What am I saying? I’m gonna have to kill them all.”