Chapter Text
“Ruuuun! Run! Get to the chopper!”
Anna stared. She was scared beyond her mind. But she couldn’t move, wouldn’t move, as she knew a prophecy was about to unfold in front of her. One she didn’t mention. The other half of El cazador trofeo de los hombres.
“What are you doing!?” He barked as the Predator loomed above, “Run!”
She didn’t.
He lay groaning on the ground after being hit in the shoulder by that freaky alien shoulder cannon. The Predator hadn’t meant to hit him, he only meant to knock the gun away. Dutch went to get up and run but the extraterrestrial leaped down from the trees at his feet, asserting its heavy presence. They both took in its grandeur stature with speechless gaping mouths. Dutch attempted to crawl backwards but then The Predator held down Dutch’s good shoulder, and with an action that could only be described as affectionate gripped his face with curling fingers. He pulled a small tube out of one of his fancy futuristic, armour slots and popped it open. He forcibly poured its contents down the man’s throat, who sputtered and swore. Anna watched his fighting body go limp and his voice quiet down. His head lolled around and his words slurred, like he was a drunk being forced into sobriety.
She watched as it clipped his vest off in one movement and tenderly ran a hand down the finely toned chest, stopping a hand on his belly. Yes, this was the perfect specimen. Strong, he liked that. But was it intelligent?
As a pointy nail began ripping his pants, his vision became clear again. The predator was now focused in Dutch’s vision. Suppressing the violently excruciating pain in his unpinned shoulder, he swung. He missed of course but the alien was momentarily distracted as it dodged and that was enough Dutch needed. He kicked the creature off him and scrambled unsteadily to his feet and ran. He didn’t get very far as his feet gave out from whatever it was he ingested. It wasn’t unpleasant, but all his limps felt like jello. He couldn’t be a jello soldier, especially with that thing killing- that killed all his men.
He remembered the skinned bodies. The hole in Blain’s chest. Dillon’s cry. Billy’s. He’d avenge them all.
The Predator didn’t chase him immediately, he’d give this human a head start. He enjoyed this game of cat and mouse. Some animals like to play with their food; The ones at the top of the food chain, of which he was, indisputably.
“When I was little, we found a man. He looked like - like, butchered. The old women in the village crossed themselves... and whispered crazy things, strange things. "El Diablo cazador de hombres." Only in the hottest years this happens. And this year, it grows hot. We begin finding our men. We found them sometimes without their skins... and sometimes much, much worse. "El cazador trofeo de los hombres" means the demon who makes trophies of men.”
Dutch’s feet gave out he slipped and ended up sliding uncontrollably down some narrow mud slicked slope.
As he saw a clearing he could only muster an ‘Oh shit!’ before he was spat off the cliff. His arms flailed about but with his years of experience he managed to naturally turn his body in the air to dive in feet first. He was tossed around as he made impact, tumbling through rough uncaring waves. He was carried down the stream to meet yet another fall, a waterfall. As soon as Dutch landed he put one arm in front of the other and swam on, his only focus on survival, not even noticing that his injuries no longer hurt, nor his limbs made of liquid.
He spotted a bank and swam towards it. He tried to pull himself up but just plopped his head down on the mud, too exhausted from the chaos that his body just went through just moments before. The sudden calm was overwhelming.
There came a splash from behind him, interrupting his second of serenity. He was reminded of his predicament and found strength from some storage that all soldiers have stowed away in some secret place deep inside, that even they have no direct access to. With one panicked glance he turned and pushed himself up the muddy bank.
The waves parted on the surface as the Predator loomed underneath, heading toward Dutch’s little bank. The soldier, terrified for the first in all his life, scooted backwards in fear. Spikes peaked first. Dutch’s back met with the root of some large tree. He tucked himself between the roots and reached for his gun. Nothing. He could only cower and grip the roots as the rest of the creature’s massive inhuman body emerged. There were little blue sparks of electricity flowering all over the surface of the alien armour, the invisible camouflage malfunctioning. The Predator pressed some buttons on its arm and disabled it.
Somehow his prey had managed to hide from him. How very clever. Although he could easily take off his mask and smell him out, he wanted to test exactly how clever this intriguing being was. It excited him. Nothing had excited him for a very long time. Nothing across the galaxies and planets he crossed and conquered had put a rush in his blood like this. No opponent strong or worthy enough. He’d stopped doing it for the thrill of the hunt a ling time ago, when it had become dull and boring. He had other purposes entirely now. A purpose that every life form lived for. A purpose he hoped could make him feel alive again.
Dutch kept completely still, a hard solemn look on his face. Three red dots adorned the right eye of the Predator as it spotted something, aiming with its laser. The shoulder cannon fired once and sparks rained down onto Dutch. He shut his eyes tightly.
A rat squeaked and ran away terrified. The shoulder cannon and head of the alien moved in unison as it looked around for Dutch once more before trudging on. The man in hiding sighed in relief then touched some of the mud on his shoulder in revelation. He watched the beast leap away through the rocks.
“He couldn’t see me...”
---
Dutch took in the nature before him, ready to put his skills as a survivalist soldier to use as he climbed the leafy hill. He walked up through a narrow crevice that the rocks had made, along with a few roots crossing over. He looked up at the gigantic plants before him. Dutch knew he had to meet the enemy on his own grounds, or should he say, trees. He looked back at the crevice and devised a plan.
He made spikes out of sharpened wood and tied them to the roots over the crevice with vines. He stuck his knife into the root and adjusted the other vines that would trigger his trap. His muscles rippled, cracking the dried mud still on his skin as he pulled the heavy log into suspension. He secured it with more sticks and vines, tucking it tightly between the rocks, so that he could cut it easily need be.
While Dutch made his preparations his Predator had its fill. He would have to be patient as he gave his prey time to make toys for them to play with. He yanked off the arm of his latest kill and let out a cry, reminding Dutch he was waiting, he was there.
He sprayed the bloody skull, to add to his collection later that night. This one put up a fight at least, he would wear it in honour of that. The skulls of pansies would just get tossed, he would not wear or keep a sake of any coward.
Dutch made a fire in the tree, using the light to craft his latest weapon and for warmth. Not that he needed it. His blood was boiling with the heat of his fallen comrades. He shot an experimental arrow at a tree. He’d spent ages bending the stick for the bow, displaying his strength to the dark forest. He had a few capsules, useless, but the gunpowder inside, very useful.
The Predator checked his stash of trophies that he acquired in the short while on this planet. He picked up a human skull and with a sharp nail ran it over the forehead, reminiscing on his newest prey. Humans were the most interesting creatures he met so far. They were crafty, nifty much like his own kind, but behind in technology and incomparable in strength.
The soldier spread mud on his cheeks military style with a hard look of determination. He was curious though, what had he drank and why did that thing feed it to him? How did it fix all of his wounds? What was it planning? Why was it here? Was it just fixing him to toy with him? What was it even? What was he.
How he even knew what gender it was, there was no evidence but that which lies in all alpha males. An impenetrable dominant air that declared itself ruler and patriarch. Dutch saw himself as an alpha, about to face the challenge of another alpha. But Dutch was soon to find out that he was oh so wrong.
He stepped out into the night making sure he was completely covered in the mud that also made him invisible. He looked up at the full moon knowing the tables have turned. Dutch lit his torch and lifted it proudly, letting out his own war cry in reply, reminding it he was coming, he was there.
The Predator hears it and is filled with excitement, the only sign being a sudden jerk of the head. He would have to be calm, not to rush things, he had to build up a momentum of suspense so that he could thoroughly enjoy the climax.
The thrill of the hunt.
Dutch stood on the makeshift bridge of a fallen vine covered tree and threw his torch down, igniting the dead plant life underneath. He ran back and up a largely rooted tree, to await his Predator.
The soldier remained determined as he hugged himself into the tree. He heard the susurration of the leaves right next to him and knew that He was there. In the corner of his eye he caught that blurry see through chameleon. He swung on a vine into another tree and hugged it immediately. He moved out of fear mostly, that presence was terribly overbearing, it called for submissiveness but Dutch would resist. The alien heard the movement but he would play hide and seek a little while longer. Albeit his patience was wearing thin.
He stood on the bridge that his prey had set a fire under, wondering what the human was up to. Dutch readied his bow and shot, it hit the area right in front of the Predator, exploding, making it let out a startled unearthly sound. Needless to say he was surprised and wasn’t pleased. Playing dirty was not in his agenda but he did admire the creativity and cleverness. He had to remember humans weren’t very strong in comparison to many other creatures, they had their brain to rely on, not so much brute. But He’d be darned if he could have both.
He fired shots randomly, nothing harmful. They were a sort of firework, only for flashy display. But he planned on herding his prey out and closer to him.
Sparks sprinkled down all over and on Dutch, filling the darkness with momentary flashes of light. The man jumped out of the tree of which most of the shots were being fired at, not knowing their true nature. He ran as more shots were fired at him, all missing on purpose. He leaned on a large rock for a moment, his jump did more damage than he anticipated and his mouth filled with the familiar taste of that metallic crimson. Knowing it was bad to stay in one place for too long he ran, around to the bridge. At the same time the Predator leaped down onto it. Dutch was paralysed for a moment.
The Predator stalked across the bridge, each slow step more antagonizing than the last. Dutch’s muscles hurt everywhere but he held onto those vines on the underside of the tree like a lifeline. He could have sworn that his prey was right there but he would let the games continue. He wanted to see what else was in store. After what seemed like ages the footsteps were out of earshot.
Dutch gathered his gunpowder wrapped spear and sneaked. Picking up a rock he threw it at a tree a few distances away. Knowing it was just a rock the Predator fired for show. He would entertain this for a little while more. Rule of war, never let your enemy know your strength or smart, and in this case, your prey. A spear was thrown and he shot at it as well, but what also unexpected was the other one.
Hearing the cry Dutch sneaked through the bushes, closer, grasping his dangerous looking forest made spear. He didn’t see his target anywhere but he did see the trails of its luminescent green blood.
“Bleeding bastard...”
He followed the glow into a rocky hollow. He heard the blood dripping real-time behind him. He lit the match as inconspicuously as he could and as it exploded his makeshift weapon he ran for it, ignoring the yell that was definitely one of annoyance.
Dutch leaped and grabbed a branch which was shot, sending him splashing into the water below. He swam and crawled out, the mud no longer his armour. Seeing nothing and filling with false relief he lifted his head. Two sharp blades were then on the sides of his neck, pinning him against the log. He turned his head without a sound.
The Predator had about enough now. He wasn’t planning on taking all these injuries from this clever vermin. He retracted his weapon and picked Dutch up by his waist. He was going to asses the physicalities now, not that he really needed to, just wanted to. He held the human against the tree with one hand pressed onto his collarbone, pinning Dutch in place and using his large foot to prop him up between the legs. His prey was badly injured now. He didn’t like that. Leaning in close, he held the earthling by his chin with his other hand, tilting his head side to side. A strong face was good, a good jaw too, he also assessed for any further damages to the face, Not that it mattered when it came to disfigurement. He had no idea what good-looking was anyhow. Face didn’t matter to his own kind, they found beauty in other ways. Of which this creature was definitely beautiful. He dropped Dutch and stepped back, it was only fair he be assessed as well. Not that he needed it either, he was unsurpassable to every being he’s met so far.
Dutch watched with confusion as the large being removed two small wires one by one from its helmet, that let out a quick whoosh of steam. He reached back and dropped his weapon on the ground, as a sign of meaning no harm but of which Dutch interpreted as a classic physical pre-brawl action. The mask was removed to reveal a horribly grotesque face with eyes that were terribly human-like. The forehead was deeply furrowed and at a naturally angry angle. There were four fangs, two upwards like overgrown bottom row teeth and two outer ones facing inwards, like they were pointing at the other fangs. The cheeks they were attached to were sunken in the middle, giving the entire shape somewhat like a bow. A cringe inducing evil-alien bow. The whole thing could be opened in the middle apparently as it flexed and stared at him, showing the small upper and lower jaw inside, the teeth there being equally pointy and sharp.
The alien closed in on him slowly, As it was right in front of him he swung the branch he was holding. It was easily snapped like it had been a twig.
“Bad idea...”
The predator was a bit pissed at that, maybe could test out his combat skills first...lessons needed to be taught.
He pressed against Dutch into the tree, not exactly enjoying the terrified expression. He ran a hand down his side. Maybe combat could wait. Dutch’s knees gave out and he sank down. The Predator had to step back to see what just happened, due to the height difference. Dutch took this opportunity to crawl away as quickly as he could. The extraterrestrial was stricken for a moment before catching himself. He hurried over and grabbed Dutch’s leg. The man turned around with a swing and some sharp object, attempting to cut into his face. In vexation he flipped Dutch who tumbled over the other side of a large root, and using the distance ran for it.
The Predator ran right behind, grabbing at him and breaking branches all the while. This was not supposed to be so difficult, But then again, all the better. With a successful grab he landed Dutch onto the ground. He loomed above him, watching with interest as the earthling tried to crawl away. Dutch managed to reach his crevice and crawl inside. The alien stooped and watched his target.
“Come on, come on.” Dutch instigated, “Do it!” To him he was just encouraging the thing to kill him, did it not want to? He watched it snarl at him and lean but not before noticing the sharp edges of the make shift trap. Typical, he should have known. He walked over to the other side ignoring Dutch’s yelling and hopped down. The Predator just wanted to reap his spoils that was this clever thing.
Dutch kicked the stick and the log came falling down on top of him. Perhaps too clever?
The man leaned his head to the side in relief that it was finally over. He turned hearing the log move. Of course not. He got up, picked up a large rock and lifted it above his head, but he could not find it within himself to kill this pitiful bleeding creature.
He tossed it, “What the hell are you...?”
This whole situation was funny now. Perplexed by this human he could only find himself asking that same question, the unfamiliar language strange on his tongue, “What...the hell...are you?”
It really hurt, that log. He was bleeding alot but nothing major done. He’d had about enough. Opening his wrist gadget he inserted a few codes and called the mothership. In a matter of second a bright light came from above and blinded Dutch. The Predator rested his head back and closed his eyes,
His mate was fun.