The alien drooled, gnashed its teeth, gnashed its second set of teeth, hissed, raised its arms and said [in its own language] ‘Mum-raaaa!’
Burke reeled backwards, petrified…well, his face went back a few inches, but his body stayed pretty much the same.
This is it, he thought, sweating. Die time. Teeth bites, blood, holes the size of Bill Paxton’s head. Fuck. Don’t run. Accept it. For the Company, humankind, corporate hegemony etc etc.
The Alien waited off-screen, still drooling.
Wait. I don’t want it to be it, Burke counter-thought. I’m too slick to die. I’m too smart, too good at manipulating things, too…
The alien lunged, ignoring Burke’s personal narrative.
A noise from the ceiling. Some shitty workmanship. A piece of metal beam, military grey, fell onto the alien’s head and killed it instantly.
Burke touched the alien’s head with his foot.
Burke stepped over the corpse and ran out another door.
Minutes later he was on the spaceship.
Bishop didn’t seem to notice as he walked on, so he kept quiet and waited in the communal area, making defences he could use to explain himself to the others. Continue reading