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The Nature of Predators - Wild West (4/11)
🕑 Added 2024-05-25 11:00:06 +0000 UTCMemory Transcription Subject: Nilrie, Takkan Smuggler
Date [standardized human time]: April 6, 1851
The sheriffâs hand drifted to its gun, and I found myself extraordinarily glad that Iâd stuck with this vicious enforcer. I could see some of the townsfolk carrying torches, perhaps to burn meâlike exterminators would. Marlow seemed to be basking in the moment, snarl unwavering as the furious-looking mob closed in on me; their binocular eyes glowed with hatred, clearing any doubts on what their fully predatory gaze looked like. The outlaw was armed with a firearm, though it hadnât made any move to draw it. It was content to allow us to understand that we were completely outnumbered.
Blake released a high-pitched noise, baring its own teeth. âPreacher Collins and John Marlow, workinâ together. Two opposite ends of the God-fearing spectrum teaminâ up.â
âHand over the demon, Sheriff,â the bandit commanded. âYouâve been fooled by the lies of Satan! Return to the light.â
âYou couldnât give a shit about the Bible, Marlow. What is it you want?â
âIâm here to help the good preacher. Iâm a man of faith, whatever misconceptions you might have about me. Demons falling from the sky; it must be the end times. We must fight back against the armies of evil, and preserve the Lordâs teachings.â
âI highly doubt this skittish bastardâs any âdemon.â How do you know that itâs not just another part of Godâs creation? Nothing is beyond His capabilities, and weâre not ones to assume to know his grand design. Everyone, please, return to your homes. Youâre being misled.â
Preacher Collins raised its book at me, causing me to take a step back. âThe demon flinches away from the cross; for how could it not? In the name of Jesus, I command you to leave this town!â
âI d-donât know what youâre talking about, or what you w-want!â I wailed.
Gasps echoed through the horde. âIt possesses that rock!â
âItâs actually speaking in devil tongue.â
âSorcerer!â
The predators were acting more like a panicky herd than an army, seeming to brand me asâŚevil? Saying it was the end times, whatever that meant; it almost sounded like the preacher and Marlow were spreading fear that I was bringing the death of them all. The holopad I needed to communicate aloud had increased the stir, generating apparent fear and horror as the primitives didnât understand basic technology. The fools hadnât even invented speakers, most likely. Blake took a few steps backward, moving us closer to his horse, Bourbon. I could see tiny hairs on his arm standing upright, and see the tension in his shoulders.
Wait, when did I decide to start calling the sheriff âheâ again? I must be very desperate to have another person around, but he is standing in the way of themâŚfor me.
âIâll make sure Nilrie leaves the town anâ never comes back. We all want the same thing, Preacher,â Blake said cautiously. âItâs my job to keep the good folk of Corvallis safe. Ye canât know fer sure that heâs a demon, so letâs do it my way. No one gets hurt if he ainât a demon, and no one gets hurt if he is. Everâone wins.â
Collinsâ expression was a mask of rage. âWe know what it is, perverting the holy realm of the Almighty Himself! Only God uses flying chariots. A birdâs wings are not meant for man.â
âThatâs right,â Marlow interjected. âHow did God react in the Tower of Babel, trying to build into the heavens?! We canât let this creatureâs wickedness be loosed into our worlds; itâs a temptation! Thatâs why we have to stop this work of Satan from falling into the wrong hands.â
The sheriff scowled. âWhat are the right hands? Yours?â
âMine, Preacher Collins, and everyone in this town. Weâll turn what was meant for evil and use it for good, in prayerful reflection. Weâll enact His Will on Earth, and be blessed with prosperity, as obedient servants.â
Cheers came from the crowd, along with a few calls of âAmen.â My eyebrows furrowed even further, as I heard a predatorâgranted, an insincere oneâlikening itself to an obedient servant to rally support. It shouldâve been laughable that flesh-eating beasts were calling me evil, but the situation was one of utter terror from where I was standing. Bourbon issued a reverberating sound of distress, while Blake tried to calm the horse, ensuring she didnât rear back. I could see the human trying to think of a way out of this, but knowing he couldnât take on his entire town. I wasnât sure he wanted to fight the very beasts he set out to protect. The Donovans were different from these mindless savages, there was no doubt about it.
Maybe if they were raised on a proper planet, they couldâve overcome their abominable ways. Blake doesnât know any better than being a deplorable predator, but he acknowledged that humans are terrible. He wants to be better, so I could try to save him.
âFine,â Blake sighed. âI give in. Do you want us to take ya to the flying chariot? Weâll need Nilrie to know what any oâ the damn runes do. I ainât able to work the shit.â
Panic swelled in my chest, and I tugged at his arm. âN-no! You canât give me to them.â
âI can and I will. Yâainât done much to endear yerself to me. What do ye say, Marlow; want me to lead ya to the score? I can keep Nilrie in line.â
Marlow hesitated, unsure how to save face. âWe should make sure the demon has revealed all of its tricks, and that there arenât more of these things. Me and a few of my men will ride out with you.â
âWithout me? What if that thing possesses you?â a crazed Collins demanded.
âPreacher, you can come too if youâd like, to ward off the devilâs influence. I wouldnât dare try to overrule a higher authority, if God compels you to follow us.â
âMyself and my most trusted parishioners will tag along to ensure the Lordâs grace is with us. I must be certain that this wily hellspawn doesnât lure any of you into temptation. We will cleanse our homes and our minds of its sinful ways.â
I refused as the sheriff tried to herd me onto the horse, feeling panicked and cornered. Marlow laughed at my fearâpredatory amusement at a sapientâs suffering. How could Blake turn me over to these menaces, if his job was to protect meâif he thought it was the right thing to do? I had to persuade him to help me, but I was too afraid to speak. Donovan lifted his pistol at me, nodding his head toward Bourbon; that quashed my delusional hopes that he might have been different from the rest, or actually cared about my welfare at all. I climbed onto the animalâs back, quivering and holding onto her neck for dear life.
I shuddered as Blake mounted his servant animal behind me, and I could feel his flesh-filled stomach pressed against my spine. He was close enough he was breathing from that defiled mouth onto my skull; his arms ensnared me to grab the ropes cruelly allowing him to control Bourbon. Why didnât I flee his home when he gave me the option? It was foolish to stick with a violent predator, whatever sympathetic words the beast offered. I collapsed against the mareâs neck, sobbing into her mane, as the sheriff prodded her slowly out of the stall. Marlow and his thugs had grabbed their mounts, flanking us on both sides, as the preacherâs group tailed behind us.
Iâm going to die. What happens when one of them decides to eat me? The bandits know Iâm no demon; they just want to loot my ship. Maybe theyâll loot my skeleton of my flesh. I hate this world, this entire species.
The horses trotted lightly through the grass, but it seemed to me that we werenât on the right path to reach the crash site. Blake scanned the horizon; I could feel the sheriffâs erratic heartbeat from where we were huddled together. Why was fear coursing through his blood? Maybe he was different, but was only going along with this marauding band out of fear; that was an understandable prey motive. If I was coerced by savage predators in a massive group, I would go along with what they wanted too. He was right: I hadnât done anything to endear myself to him or make it worth it to risk his life protecting me. Donovan thought I hated him and saw him as a monster, and he hadnât been wrong.
âIf ye look off to yer right, youâll see the flyinâ kite embedded pretty deep into the earth. Might have to dig to get some pieces,â Blake commented, and I thought he was thoroughly lost. There was nothing there.
Marlow guided its horse over to the ditch, peering off the side of the road. âHm, it doesnât look like thereâs much to salvage. I donât see a whole lotââ
With lightning-fast motions, the sheriff whipped his rifle around, firing a shot close to the ears of the banditsâ horsesâand into the leg of the leaderâs mount. The thunderclap was deafening, enough to startle the hell out of me. Several of the thugsâ quadrupeds reared back, dumping their riders onto the ground; Marlowâs horse was crippled, unable to tote him at all. Unfortunately, the predatory human pried his leg from beneath the animal, and screamed at his men to go after us. Blake had spurred Bourbon to a breakneck gallop, speeding off into the fields. It took the bandits and preacherâs gang, who had stayed on their saddles, several moments to pursue us, as they had to go around the downed horses. One fallen human screamed as it was trampled by its own comrades in their haste.
Blake tricked them; of course he did, heâs still using a predatorâs arsenal. He made them bring me out of the town, and now weâre making a run for it. If it wasnât for this humanâs protection, who knows what the angry mob wouldâve done to me.
âT-thank you, thank you, thank you,â I whimpered.
âDonât thank me yet.â The sheriff squeezed his legs against the horseâs ribs, pointing his pistol over his shoulder; pulling the trigger with ease due to his natural killerâs instincts. âWe got a whole lotta bad guys on our heels, and I gotta find a way to lose âem. Stay low, âcause theyâre gonna shoot at us. If I go downâŚsqueeze Bourbonâs ribs with your feet anâ keep runninâ, Nilrie.â
âAnd l-leave you?â Of course a predator would suggest ditching a fallen ally, once they were useless.
âI ainât gonna let them do Lord knows what to ye. You got to get away, much more than I do. Canât look back. âSides, I figure youâll be happy to be rid of this monster.â
âNot really. T-there might be a little hope for you. Youâre asâŚl-least monstrous as a predator can be w-with your innate f-flaws.â
âGee, thanks. Totally appreciate that.â
Bourbon raced off into the open land, with bandits hot on our tail. I quivered as bullets flew toward us, while Blake was steadfastâcoolly firing shots back at the predatory bipeds. All the while, he guided the horse toward a lightly wooded hill, in the hopes we could lose our far-back pursuers. As long as we stayed on flat land, in their line of sight, it would be impossible to get the predators off our scent. The sheriff passed the reins to me, then switched from his handgun to the rifle; high-velocity rounds seemed to make contact with something, judging by the whinny and subsequent human howl I heard behind me. He popped off another round, and I found the courage to lookâobserving his pristine aim at taking down prey animals. A second horse had gone down to a perfect shot.
This was simply another day of hunting to him. I couldnât lose sight of the type of barbaric creature I was dealing with: one that was adept at murdering its own kind in gun battles, and wasnât satisfied with a diet of leaves alone. It didnât take much imagination to guess what would happen to me if I was left in the wilderness with Blake for any meaningful length of time. Then again, he might eat the horse first since it was bigger and already deemed a tool for his use. Bourbon mustâve had a pitiful life, stuck around reeking predators whoâd park themselves on her spine. I winced in sympathy, hating that my presence added to her burden.
Donovan swiveled back around, tugging one side of the rein, arcing Bourbon around the side of the hill. âI got a couple of âem. Gonna do a turn and dart into the treeline, and we can leave âem in the dust.â
âG-great,â I responded. âAwesome.â
As the human was fully focused on fleeing from a fightâsomething I was surprised a predatorâs pride would allowâthere was a slight squelching sound. Bourbon brayed, though Blake managed to keep her upright and spur her onward. Our turn to avoid a direct ascent of the wooded hill had given the bandits a perfect angle of her chest, and their bullet had struck true. Despite still running, I could hear the horseâs breathing turning to a wet, grunting sound; if there was that much blood, I had no doubt that Blake could smell it. It must be teasing the predator, and his mouth was right by my neck. His breath had hitched when Bourbon was struck, though he pressed on without eating me somehow.
âCâmon girl. Just a little further,â the human pleaded, in a voice that sounded fraught.
Repeatedly squeezing his legs for speed, he commanded the horse up the hillside, hoping the cluttered scenery would force our opponents to use caution. Despite how easy it would be for branches and tree roots to trip up the massive quadruped, Blake wouldnât let her slow down. The predator kept glancing over his shoulder, having to turn all the way thanks to his tunnel vision. The recklessness, pushing Bourbon to her breaking point, was enough to have the bandits not appearing on our six. However, it resulted in her hoof striking something on the ground, and we were thrown as her leg buckled beneath her.
I groaned, as tender injuries from the crash sang with new pain from the hard landing. Blake picked himself up before I did, no doubt finding the energy to ignore his pain with a helpless herbivore lying on the ground. The wounded prey animal laid there, unable to get back up as her panting sounded wetter still. I sat up in slow motion, and watched in horror as the human knelt by the horse. He buried his face in her neck, no doubt to tear out her throat and suck the warm blood; the impulse to eat the injured meat slab had won out. I stared at the alien with absolute disgust, though it was replaced by confusion as I heard a sound coming from his chest. The humanâs body shook, and the noise of sniffling through snot was unmistakable. Was DonovanâŚcrying?
âNo, no, no,â he whispered, in a despairing voice. His arms were draped over the horseâs neck, still holding on for dear life. âIâm so sorry, Bourbon. Iâm real sorry, girl.â
I crept closer, unable to believe what I was seeing. Blake lifted his head, showing water pouring out of his hideous eyesâwhich were reddened; his nose and lips were contorted in an unsightly expression of grief. The predator whoâd just shot two other horses without skipping a beat was kneeling in the dirt, bawling his binocular eyes out. He blinked away more tears, placing a hand on the horseâs cheek. She offered a pitiful wheeze as he stroked her fur, and turned a vacant look toward his face. The sheriff retrieved more bullets for his handgun, wiping tears from his eyes. Snot dripped onto his upper lip fur.
What the fuck? A hunter grieving the loss of a companion preemptively, showing weak, preylike emotions? Maybe Blake is capable of caring, in a way thatâs at least recognizable.
âI know that look,â he whispered, hanging his head low. âItâs okay. You can rest now. Ye been a good friend to me.â
I gasped in horror as the human turned his pistol on the horse whoâd done nothing but serve his whims, and blew her brains out right in front of me. Shock lanced through my body, at the sudden shift in Blakeâs behavior. Why would a predator try to treat her wounds, when Bourbon could just be killed and no longer be a concern? I supposed it was nice for a predator to show sympathy for a few seconds, and not to gnaw on the freshly-deceased corpse butâŚthe sheriff slaughtered his horse out of nowhere. It was a mistake to think this thing was anything like decent herbivores. Donovan showed that he was a murderer, no matter what he acted like.
The human saved you because you were useful. Predators leave their wounded to die, end of discussion.
I scrambled away on my haunches, worried heâd turn the gun on me. âW-what is w-wrong with you?! S-shooting her after acting like you l-love her; you are a monster.â
The human screamed in fury, suddenly having lost his mind; he kicked a bunch of leaves into the air, and hurled his pistol at a tree trunk with startling accuracy. Blake clenched his fist, before sinking to his knees with a rapid loss of energy. He reached out with a searching hand, placing the handgun quietly back at his hip. The alien monstrosity stroked Bourbonâs corpse with affection, as if he hadnât been the one to take her life. He then rose to his feet, looking at me as if none of his maniacal acts had happened. The sheriff waved the pistol through the air, blowing a flustered breath out of his lips.
âWhat was I sâposed to do: leave âer to suffer, slowly bleed out?â Blake demanded. âThat was a mercy kill. I loved my fuckinâ horse. Donât ye ever say otherwise.â
My expression turned more sour at the phrase âmercy kill.â âIf thatâsâŚhow you treat your w-wounded, why didnât you m-mercy kill me?â
âYer a person. Ya didnât ask me to neither, but Bourbon did with her eyes. I done saw. What was I sâposed to do for her anyway, huh? Ya think I coulda saved her with some magic runes?â
âN-no.â
âOkay then. My best friend died gettinâ you out of jeopardy, so it ainât gonna be for nothinâ, Nilrie. Letâs get moving, in case they heard the gunshots. We gotta keep tryinâ tâlose âem.â
I followed the predator, though I watched the firearm on his hip with extreme discomfort. Blakeâs posture seemed different, not carrying himself with the normal authoritative confidence. His breathing sounded shaky, as if he was in pain, and he was avoiding looking at me. Perhaps it was just the tumble from the horse, but I couldnât help but apply prey logic to him. The human seemed torn up about what he did to the horse; despite his explicit role in her passing, I felt a bit bad for him. Given how much predators liked to drag out deaths and watch their meals squirm, maybe a quick end was a mercy to them.
âAre y-you upset?â I ventured.
Blake sucked in a sharp breath. âYes, but it wonât do nobody no good to keep cryinâ about it.â
âIâmâŚsorry. About Bourbon.â
âThanks. Iâm sorry about those folk ganging up on ye. I ainât never meant to scare ya; only ever meant to help, not put nobody in danger.â
I flicked my plumed tail in acknowledgement, unable to avoid seeing the emotions in those binocular eyes. I didnât trust Blakeâs feelings to win out over the killing drive, especially when his society steered him in that direction; I wasnât convinced it wasnât dangerous to be out here alone with an armed, erratic human. The things he would do to survive were unthinkable. However, so far, he was the only reason I had survived on this planet, and heâd saved my life more than once. I had to trust that a predator wouldnât waste all of that effort just to turn on me, or else, I might as well give up now. With a heavy heart, I followed the sheriff as he looked for a safe place to hide from the bandits.
A/N - Chapter 4! The town is egged on by the preacher and Marlow to believe our narrator is a demon with unholy tech; Blake pretends to give Nilrie up and reveal the location of his shipwreck, only to make a run for it. Sheriff Donovan takes out a few horses and riders, heading for a wooded hill, but Bourbon catches a bullet to the chest. The cowboy is forced to mercy kill his horse, which earns a reaction from Nilrie of calling him a monsterâŚand he loses it momentarily.
Do you think the Federation could ever understand mercy kills, coming from a place of kindness rather than violence? How will Nilrie reconcile his gratitude and need for Blakeâs assistance with thinking heâs a monster? What will surviving and hiding in the woods entailâŚand whatâs the sheriffâs plan to deal with Marlow?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Comments
Some Lvm
Wasn't Kalsim talking about putting humans out of their misery his entire arc? He even considered killing that kid before he became "a full blown predator". In their twisted way, the Feds know all about mercy killing.
Some Lvm
Don't worry Nirlie! There is a simple test with some harmless water to see if you are a demon or not. It is technically for witches, but we can make it work! If ya aint no demon, ya have nothing ta fret!
Some Lvm
I'd say Marlow, like any low level criminal, is shortsighted. He figured out part of the plan - how to get backup against the sheriff, but not what to do afterwards. Or maybe he did have some plan, but he didn't count on how everyone will react, and his plan went to hell immediately. It's like: "I know where the stage coach is, lets rob it!" "Ok, but than what? Them marshals be after us like white on rice!" "Ahhhm..."
T___
Has Nilrie even noticed how the sheriff calls Bourbon his best friend? Not a servant animal or something.
T___
I think Collins, the preacher, is actually dangerous. He will make life impossible for the sheriff and his wife there, however this thing is solved. Mandate by the Land Ordinance of 1787 "for the region was that no peaceable person ever be molested on account of religion" [link in the end] But babtists of the era had "physical manifestations of their religious enthusiasm, such as jerking, dancing, barking, and falling down." So I'm thinking that that kind of excitability could manifest with religious fervor to lynch "a demon". (https://www.encyclopedia.com/history/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/frontier-religion)
Space Paladin
Iâm sorry you went through that đ itâs always hard to put down a furry friend
EliasArt2Life
If I had to guess, because if Marlow dies, thereâs no one who can get the pastor to call off the posse. Meanwhile, if Marlow lives, he can be pressed for information, and eventually confess, leading to Collins realizing heâs being used. Marlow seems clever, but not clever enough to think far ahead, and likely to slip up when the unexpected occurs. Now, whether thatâs a narrative reason, or the sheriffâs reason, is beyond me. Also, I could be totally wrong.
EliasArt2Life
Ooff! It sounds like the Sheriff got about half of Marlowâs goonies out of the picture with his gun work. Iâm guessing that itâll be Marlow, Collins, and a few others, and Marlow will end up letting it slip that heâs just using the preacher. Or heâll turn on the preacher. Marlowâs clever, but also dumb. He was smart enough to know how to turn the town against the Sheriff and Nilrie, but not clever enough to realize that heâd need Nilrie alive to figure out how to use or even reverse engineer the stuff. Rest in Peace, Burbon.
Apogee
Oo the action has taken off! Poor Horse, he did the right thing though. ItâsâŚvery difficult to do. I still cry sometimes remembering. Not something you really ever forget.
Apogee
They totally do. I know for a fact they destroy cattle ships. Itâs what Solivin wanted to do but the humans captured it and saved everyone instead.
Gumcel
How could they not have the concept of mercy killing? Nilrie is just being racist lol.
Charming Cobra
Hell hath no fury like a cowboy who just lost his loyal steed and best friend
Roscuro
People asking why shoot the horse instead of the person as if horses aren't significantly easier targets that have a good chance to kill their riders in their death throes.
DreamEnvoy
So many shooting of horses, so little shooting of people who deserve it. Pretty sure the Feds have a concept of mercy killing. I think I remember that happening to Tarva's daughter after being comatosed. Nilrie conflating that with culling is just bias.
Yannis Morris
350-ish years later we see the Venlil having the concept of mercy killing.
REDemon14
Damn you Marlow. He just wants what Nilrie came with. No goodness at all. And Collins should be ashamed to not see a bandit twisting his faith into a tool of sin. Poor Bourbon, she (and the other horses) didn't deserve that fate. In relations to mercy killing, to help Nilrie understand the concept, ask him if somehow the Arxur landed on Earth and got to them, would he want Donovan to end the pain? Very sad chapter. Still a good read.
Rick
Got the sudden urge to go replay red dead 2.
Neu5Ac
I suspected Bourbon was going to die, although I thought it was going to be a misaimed shot from Marlow attempting a quick draw. Also, I have to wonder why the Sheriff didn't simply shoot Marlow; the man is certainly more dangerous than the horse.
Alekss Žukovskis
RIP Bourbon đ
un_pogaz
Bourbon, noooooo.... đ Even if Nilrie had the means to heal Bourbon's broken leg in his medical smuggling, with a bullet to the chest, they never have been able to get back in time to save her. So sad. I think the Federation understand mercy kills, but like anything else, it all depends on the hand that executes it: If it's prey, it's euthanasia to shorten suffering in a last empathetic gesture; If it's a predator, it's a foul murder after a last amusing deception. And I was right: ideological panic, ideological panic everywhere
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