Nightstalker Renewed

[Victria 0]

Disclaimer: Contains some violence and suggestive material.

 

-

 

Sometime long before...

 

 

"Sleep, Yasin. We have an early day tomorrow."

 

Yasin looked up as her mother entered her room , holding her favorite rag doll. The middle-aged woman settled on the bed and handed her the much-abused toy which she hugged with a smile. Though she had protested many times that she was getting too old for such childish things, the doll was one memento that she would never relinquish. Her mother brushed her hair out of her eyes and leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

 

"Time to put the book away. We leave at sunup for the market and we will need your help packing."

 

"Just a few more pages, mother? I am almost finished with this section and it is the exciting part where the evil wolf-beasts finally reveal themselves and are slain by the good farmer."

 

"You have read this book a dozen times over, Yasin. Put it away. No arguments or… or the Iniquitous will snatch you up," her mother teased, crooking her fingers and playfully lunging to tickle, "like they do to all children who disobey their parents."

 

"I am a little too old for that ridiculous tale," Yasin giggled, swatting at her mother's hands, but she did close her book reluctantly and placed it on the table beside her.

 

"You are barely thirteen summers, child. Hardly ancient," her mother said dryly as she drew up the covers. She bestowed another kiss and rose. "Sleep well."

 

"Sleep well, mother," Yasin replied as her mother blew out her candle and left, closing the door behind her.

 

She lay restless for a few moments, turning to stare out of the window to the night sky. The twin moons, perfectly round orbs in their fullest stage, were both high enough to been seen from her vantage. She sighed and shifted to find a comfortable spot, but wasn't the least bit tired. Deciding she still had plenty of light to read, she spared a guilty glance at the closed door and quietly slid her book off of the table. She opened it to her previous page and quickly lost herself in the story.

 

Yasin had only made it through the next few paragraphs when her room began to brighten. When she noticed the additional light, she rose and knelt on her bed to peer outside, pressing her nose to the cold pane of glass. Her eyes widened as the light grew until the night was as the day and the brightness made her eyes water. A deafening roar filled her ears and the entire house began to shake. Movement below caught her attention and she looked down to see her parents rush out into the yard. She quickly unlatched the window and pulled the two halves inward. A cold gale rushed inside and ripped the windows from her grip, banging them dangerously against the walls. Her long braids whipped behind her and plastered her thin nightdress to her small frame.

 

When the light finally dimmed and the dazzling sparkles faded from her sight, Yasin could see an oddly shaped structure lodged in the middle of her father's biggest field. It had flattened a huge swath of crops as though it had fallen from the sky. Her parents had already navigated the neatly-planted rows and were standing dumbfounded at the edge of the flattened area. Suddenly, the noise died away and the air stilled. Yasin watched in amazement as the strange ovoid object began to move. A crack appeared and light spilled free onto the ruined field. A sickening ball of fear began to form in the pit of her stomach as the light was blotted out and a large creature emerged. The Iniquitous! They had come for her and her parents were in danger!

 

She tore herself from the window, bolted for the hallway, and rushed down the darkened stairs far too quickly. She missed several treads and tripped painfully, tumbling down the last flight and crashing at the bottom in daze. Even still, she struggled to her feet and staggered for the open door. Beyond, she could see the talk stalks of the field and the silvery top of the foreign object, but she could no longer see her parents.

 

Tears streaming down her face, screaming hysterically for her mother and father, she flew across the yard and into the crops, uncaring of the broad leaves that mercilessly slapped her face. When she broke free into the clearing, she tumbled forward and landed sobbing on the broken foliage. Her mother lay only a few feet in front of her. Her mother's severed head lay a few feet beyond. Screaming in horror, she backpedaled away from the horrid sight. Searching frantically for her father, she found him dangling at the mercy of the Iniquitous. The giant insect-like creature had pierced her father's body with its stinger and now held him before its multiple eyes in study. It shook his twitching body like a child would manipulate a puppet. Blessedly, her father was already dead when the creature raised one of its pinchers and cut him in half, spilling entrails, organs, and blood in all directions.

 

Yasin retched violently and continued to retch until there was nothing left to give. She was not even aware of the shadow looming over her until those cruel claws hoisted her from the ground. Frozen in shock, she stared wide-eyed at her god and forgot to breathe.

 

-

 

"The outlook is not very promising. The formula is too radical for their feeble bodies to sustain. They fight the transition and lose, but do not remain sane afterward. We have had some success with filtering out as many of their own antibodies as possible before introducing the virus, but the end product is entirely too weak for our purposes. We have tried injection, ingestion, and dilution through various third party components, but with no better results." Mnil'kk's mandibles clacked in irritation as he strolled along beside the much larger Androct.

 

"I am assuming that you came to me for a reason other than to confess your failures. I have read the reports. I am well aware of the difficulties." Gl'iix said, fully focusing one of his eight eyes on the Mari. "Get to the point."

 

"We are ready to attempt the next phase."

 

"Which is?"

 

"Genetic reassignment for assisted reproductive growth."

 

"Excellent. Do you have any likely candidates?"

 

"Yes, several. The young in their early pubescent stage are especially resilient. Also, by furthering the growth process, we are able to decrease their normal gestation period by half."

 

"I assume that will decrease even further in the future?" Gl'iix asked.

 

"Of course," Mnil'kk assured him. "Once the primary subjects have given birth, we will be able to refine the process further. Perhaps we shall even move to cloning once the genetic markers have been perfectly placed."

 

"I will make a strong suggestion to the General that we capture as many as possible during our next colony raid. The larger settlements have already been wiped clean. When do you expect the first test subject to give birth?"

 

"In no more than two-day's time," Mnil'kk clicked excitedly, unable to contain his secret any further.

 

"Two days?" Gl'iix stopped short and turned his entire carapace toward the smaller Scorpiad. "You began this project four months ago?"

 

"Our initial failures hinted that the normal course would be pointless. We began to pursue alternative means even while we completed the first phase."

 

"Which is why your department requested additional resources," Gl'ixx clicked rapidly in the Scorpiad approximation of laughter. "Very clever. You will be sure to receive a promotion over this… especially if the live births are successful."

 

"They will be, to be certain. Our only concern is the training of the child once it is born. It has been altered in very specific ways and will mature rapidly. All of this will, of course, be outlined in my next report."

 

"I look forward to reading it. Inform me when the time is near. I will witness this birth of our little project." The Androct dipped his cauda in the traditional manner of greeting and farewell.

 

-

 

Exhausted panting quickly heightened to screams of intense pain as another wave of contractions ripped through her. After a few minutes they passed and Yasin sagged back against the cold metal surgical bed, awaiting the next brutal round. Her naked body trembled violently from both the effort and the cold. She closed her eyes, though she could still feel them staring. They were all staring--and waiting--waiting for the monster within her to claw its way free of her womb. The strange, green-eyed humanoids flitted silently around the bed, monitoring her biosigns. Further away were the giant scorpion-like creatures, their multiple eyes missing nothing and their vicious claws snapping in frustration as the wait stretched. She once thought them to be the gods of the wicked come to punish her for her sins, but after a year in their company, she knew they were nothing more than ruthless galactic conquerors. Her world had simply been the next one in line for domination. The lifeless bodies of her parents still haunted her dreams.

 

Day by day the numbers of her fellow captives had dwindled as each was taken for experimentation and had not returned. The males disappeared at random intervals; the females shortly after their first monthly courses. When her body betrayed her, they came for her as well. Instinctively, she knew what was to come. They wanted breeding stock.

 

Once she had been impregnated, she had been isolated in a tiny cubicle. The green-eyed had been her only companions, though they remained ever mute. As her belly grew, her body dwindled, as though whatever grew inside her was slowly eating her from the inside. Yasin dwindled to a ghost of her former self. Skin stretched painfully taught over bone and tendon until she seemed nothing more than a walking skeleton. Her engorged stomach bulged in stark contrast.

 

She bit down on her lower lip and stifled her screams for as long as possible as the next contraction began. But as her desperate pushing yielded no results, she heard the strange clacking sounds from the scorpions intensify. At some unknown signal, one of her handlers stepped forward to examine her stomach. The incision came as a complete surprise. Her screaming renewed, though this time in terror as she was sliced open from one hip to the other. Two of the aliens restrained her, though she was entirely too weak to struggle. After only a few moments, her screams died away to hoarse whimpers as the euphoria of blood loss made the room spin.

 

From her ruined body, she watched as they pulled free the child not of her making. It was pale and silent. For a moment, she thought it was dead. She hoped it was dead. But as the aliens cleaned the infant, she saw it draw its first breath. Pale blue eyes shifted to find hers, unnaturally focused for one just born. Shivering uncontrollably and unable to break the thrall the baby had upon her, she raised her arms to accept the living horror from the aide.

 

Tiny fangs granted her the sweet release of death.

 

-

 

"Progress?" the Androct asked, his full attention on the battle that waged in the sparring ring before him.

 

"Excellent. Beyond our expectations. They are amazing creatures and have instinctively perfected the traits we carefully selected. The third generation has exceeded all previous achievements."

 

"What of the first and second generations?"

 

"Disposed of, though not before we experimented. We introduced each of the others to their predecessors to observe how they reacted and the results were similar to those we have seen countless times."

 

"The third generation subjects eliminated the first two?"

 

"Yes, exactly." The smaller Scorpiad skittered to one side as the fight drew dangerously close to where they stood. "With only one exception. A first generation killed the three attacking him and would have finished the rest had we not sedated him."

 

"A curious anomaly."

 

"Yes, we thought so as well. We have done extensive tests and found mutated material incorporated in his genetic structure. A surprising find, but one that we have been able to duplicate and use to our advantage."

 

"And the unfortunate problem with the skin sensitivity?"

 

"That we can do nothing about, not without decreasing the effectiveness of the coagulant properties they carry."

 

"Then we will modify their world to suit their deficiencies. Their ability to cripple the changelings is all that matters."

 

Gl'iix snagged one of the pale-skinned males from the ring as he strayed too close and tightened his giant pincer just enough to cut into his skin. Though the fighter bared his fangs, he did not cry out. When the Scorpiad released him, he immediately fell to his knees and knelt, bowing forward in submission until his forehead touched the floor. The open wound that ran the entire length of his back closed over almost immediately.

 

"As you can see, their healing abilities are astounding," Mnil'kk said proudly.

 

"How long until the full force is ready?"

 

"No more than a month. We have already begun creating the fourth and final generation and have incorporated the mutation from the first. They are growing in the incubation units until they reach maturity. We discovered it was far easier to regulate their development ourselves than rely on the crude natural delivery. The female carriers never survived the births else we could have used them for future incubations."

 

"They were a weak species when we arrived."

 

"No longer," Mnil'kk stated proudly.

 

-

 

:I show anomalous readings coming from pod vee-seven.:

 

The green-eyed technician frowned as the thought entered his mind from the worker at the control console. He moved forward to study the display, glancing up briefly to the pod in question. His frown deepened as the hissing of escaping air emanated from one of the intake hoses.

 

:That unit is not scheduled to be deactivated for another three weeks. Find the bug in the program and fix it.:

 

:It is not the program,: the technician tapped the console rapidly, running the diagnostics a second time. :It is the subject. She is fighting the hibernation and the program is responding to her distressed biological readings.:

 

:Increase the sedatives.:

 

:I have. No change. Her metabolism is processing them faster than the equipment can compensate.: He glanced up questioningly. :What does this mean?:

 

:It means we have a new mutation. And trouble. Inform Master Mnil'kk.:

 

:I just sent him word. He replied that he would be here immediately.:

 

:Good. Do what you can to keep her under.:

 

The lead tech paced forward to face the clear portal of the unit. The sleeping figure within stirred restlessly and a furrow appeared on her smooth brow. Glancing briefly to status panel on one side, he jumped as he looked back and found pale blue eyes staring at him.

 

:Impossible!:

 

"Evidently not," she said aloud with a feral smile.

 

:Get one of the Masters in here!: he shouted to anyone within range.

 

The tech whirled and ran as she began to hammer the portal with her fists until the polymer shattered. His coworker had already bolted for the exit. He almost made it to safety before she caught him by his smock. His mouth opened in silent protest as he was yanked backwards against her nude form.

 

:I am not your prey!: he protested.

 

"Then why do you bleed for me?" she asked before tearing into his throat.

 

-

 

The city held its breath in terror as silent shadows stalked its streets. The occupants no longer ventured from the safety of their homes at night for fear of disappearing, though the solid walls afforded little protection. Each passing day, more families were broken as members mysteriously disappeared from their beds. It was rumored that the disappearances would continue until the night-stalkers found their prey. Little did they know that the night-stalkers were enjoying the Hunt immensely and had no intention of leaving.

 

Victria slipped between the two office buildings and paused at the mouth of the alley, crouching to peer out into the dimly lit street. She waited there motionless for several minutes as the rest of her fellow stalkers moved into position. For the past month, they had systematically searched the city grid by grid. They were hampered by the unyielding daylight, which gave their prey the opportunity to flee and relocate, but each night they had renewed their efforts in full force. After several days of clever herding, they finally had it cornered.

 

Across the way, she watched Madai dart from one shadow to the other as he circled to the side entrance of a large warehouse. Her gaze flicked to the upper floor as she saw movement in the window. Unless some hapless citizen had lingered after work, they would celebrate their victory tonight. Moving from hiding, she covered the short distance at a run and used the rough brickwork to scale the face of the building. Her chosen entrance was an open window a floor beneath the one where she'd seen movement. The pitch-dark interior was comforting and did little to hamper her excellent night vision.

 

Bolts of fabric were stacked neatly in racks that went from floor to ceiling. She extended her senses to their fullest, searching for the scent she craved. The subtle, earthy smells of natural fibers filled her nose and provided nothing extraordinary. Creeping past dozens of rows, she finally found the stairs that led between levels and slowly began to climb. Light from the lamps outside filtered in through the small windows at each landing. She kept close to the walls and slipped beneath them so as not to betray herself in silhouette. Theoretically there should be no one outside save her fellow stalkers, but the instinct to remain unseen was strong.

 

She paused at the entrance to the next floor and crouched, listening. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled and then froze. It was here. Somewhere. Soft footsteps crossed the roof above and she knew that Madai would soon be positioned at the opposite stairwell, cutting off any retreat. The others were stationed around the building itself should they fail, but they would not. She would not.

 

The pungent smell of fear permeated the room and brought a smile to her lips. She followed the trail past the first three storage racks and paused at the next aisle. Again, she took a deep breath to catch the scent and began pacing down the narrow corridor, crouching and rising slowly to sniff the shelves of cloth. The garish colors and patterns were an assault to her eyes -- not to mention her personal style -- but she studied them, seeking further clues. Her gaze rose upward as the lower shelves yielded no results and she began to climb.

 

Something on the second shelf from the top made her pause. She studied the fabric carefully as her instincts told her something was off. A bolt of light blue lay askew on the pile. It was an exact copy of the one beneath it both in hue and weight, but the odd script that identified it was an unreadable blur as if hastily written. The smell of fear increased.

 

"Hello, changeling…"

 

Without warning, the fabric exploded into a toxic gaseous cloud. She laughed at the creature's attempts as it enveloped her head, but with no ill effect. The cloud dissolved into something odorless and colorless, though to her senses, it still smelled like changeling. As it shot upward and flowed over the racks, she quickly followed, leaping effortlessly across breaks in the shelving units. She pulled a small device from her belt as she ran and activated it. A flick of her wrist sent an energy net flying. It struck the gaseous cloud, wrapped around as though encasing it in a giant bubble, and sent it plummeting to the floor. The changeling quickly transformed to escape.

 

Pulling her sword free, Victria leapt from the racks and threw herself at the monster below. A many-tentacled creature rose to meet her. She ducked beneath one of the spiked tentacles as it whizzed over her head, leapt over as it tried to sweep her feet from under her, and finally brought her sword down to sever it completely. As two tentacles whipped past, she managed to catch one, though its spikes sank deep into her side. She hissed and wrenched it free. Before she could better her grip, it oozed free in gelatinous state and the changeling reformed. Each time she captured the creature it quickly slipped free, reformed, and renewed its attack. Her frustration began to rise.

 

Despite the battle that waged, she still felt Madai approach. The changeling had no time to react as the other stalker attacked from behind, using one of his many blades to slice away three tentacles. They fell to the floor and immediately melted into their protoplasmic state. While the changeling was distracted, Victria caught another of its spiked arms and sank her teeth into the solid mass before it could transform. The reaction was instantaneous.

 

A shudder rippled through the changeling as it lost cohesion and collapsed. It struggled to regain form, but the coagulant spreading through it prevented a complete change. It shifted to several different forms with no better results. A half-formed and misshapen humanoid emerged, wailing in pain as the venom forcefully solidified the rest of its body. The two stalkers crouched in front of the dying changeling, utterly transfixed.

 

When the screaming stopped, Victria plunged her hand into the corpse and ripped free a chunk of their dead enemy. Madai's hand covered her own and together they pulverized the material until fine ash sifted through their fingers. He grinned as she glanced up to meet his gaze.

 

"I always enjoy this part. They are so silent and still and peaceful afterward."

 

"As it should be," she agreed. "It was a good Hunt."

 

"Yes, you did well."

 

His free hand rose and he entangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her forcefully to him. Their mouths met and tongues began to explore. She growled in pleasure as his fangs nipped her lower lip and drew blood. When she returned the favor, he snarled and pulled her away to better access her neck. He nipped playfully at her cool skin until he reached the column of her throat. She gasped and arched against him as he bit down. Roaming hands turned frantic as they tugged at clothing, ripping seams and fastenings free if they refused to yield. Pale bodies soon joined in fevered union, replaying the ancient need that they no longer required but still enjoyed.

 

When at last they parted, they drew away reluctantly to dress and bask in the lingering euphoria of both their kill and their sated physical lust. Victria watched the elder hunter as he put his clothing to rights as best he could.

 

"I Hunger," she stated impatiently, knowing he felt the lingering bloodlust as well.

 

"Then it is time we pay the remaining citizens a visit. The penalty for harboring a changeling is death." His blue eyes brightened as he turned.

 

Victria grinned. "We have another month before we are expected to return."

 

"If we apply ourselves, it will not take nearly that long."

 

-

 

Sometime after...

 

 

Victria peered listlessly at the viewscreen before her, oblivious to the data scrolling rapidly past. When she finally realized she was missing the report, she tapped the program closed and leaned back in her chair. Memories of the recent venture into the Black Marsh distracted her yet again. Am I losing my edge? Ah-Windu's fears, later echoed by Mark, drummed an ever-present beat in her mind. She shared their fears because she knew the result was inevitable.

 

Those of the Federation enclosed themselves in their stifling ships and fought their battles from a distance. Rarely were they forced to use the natural-born abilities that drove their instinct for self preservation. She knew their sharpness was diminished because her own was beginning to fade. Despite the relentless training sessions she forced upon herself, her senses were dulled by her continued stay. The lenses she wore to protect her eyes cast a grubby, monotonous patina over her environment. The replicated rations were not sufficient enough to give her body what it needed. The hunger, thankfully lessened somewhat by the doctor's efforts, remained her constant companion and was never completed sated. The frustration she first felt at becoming a captive on the ship was beginning to return in force. The Black Marsh had been the catalyst.

 

Already riled from the Hunt and killing of the lizard-creatures, Victria had been faced with the image of her mortal enemy. Though she now knew that the changelings were simply another ruling force in the quadrant, the urge to seek and destroy was difficult to overcome. She had been bred and trained to kill her prey. To Hunt the changelings required the highest level of skill, only the best breeding, and the most ruthless of killers. It was fixed firmly in her genetic structure. Did she have the strength to overcome that? Did she even want to?

 

The rising Hunger said no.