spacepaladin15
patreon
The Nature of Predators - Becoming a Predator (6/10)
🕑 Added 2023-10-21 11:00:03 +0000 UTCMemory transcription subject: Narlem, Krakotl Exterminator Fleet Comms Technician
Date [standardized human time]: October 2, 2136
Caleb’s binocular eyes shifted from the two Terrans, to me crying on the floor. After stupefied contemplation, he beckoned to Vinny, who referred to my sibling as “Officer Boyd.” The interrogator seemed to give me a weird look, after I thought I overheard a hissed inquiry as to the reason for my arrest. Officer Boyd, Caleb, or whatever his name was supposed to be, looked riled up when his counterpart expressed shock that I was related to him, though Vinny quickly qualified it by whispering in my brother’s ear. The first Terran I’d engaged with knitted his eyebrows in confusion, taken aback by whatever he’d been told. I imagined my story about being a Krakotl, and very much not Nathan, had been imparted.
Caleb pursed his lips, and I strained to hear his words. “Look, Vinny, that’s my brother. I can’t watch him be locked up. Let me take him home, and try to fix it.”
“I never would’ve thought Nathan was from that Boyd family. You’re a fine officer, but this poor boy clearly needs mental help,” the interrogator replied. “The things he’s saying aren’t the things someone who’s right upstairs says. He’s had some kind of…psychiatric break.”
“I hear what you’re saying, and I agree that he’s not acting right. But if it was your family, I know you wouldn’t hang them out to dry. I don’t want to see Nathan locked in a padded room with a straitjacket, because I fucking love my brother. I’m begging you, as a personal favor to me, one badge to another, let me try to snap him out of it.”
Vinny crossed his arms, shooting a glance at a noncommittal Brandon. “Fine. But I want your word that if you can’t control him, you’ll check him in yourself. He thinks he’s a ‘predator’ as of recently, and doesn’t seem to have much concept of laws or decency. We’re going to send people to check up on Nathan later.”
“Thank you so much. I owe you, I owe you a million. You’re gonna get a great Christmas gift this year. Tell Charlene and the kids I said hello.”
“Will do. You be careful, Caleb…I’m not sure how much of a favor I’m doing you.”
Officer Boyd grimaced, walking over to me on the floor. He extended his hand, which I stuck my own mitt into with gratitude; I wouldn’t have wanted to go anywhere with a savage predator, but this was a much better option than the facility. If anyone would help with my survival in hominid form, it would be Caleb. The human pulled me to my feet with a rough tug, and dragged me out with speedy steps. I struggled to keep up on my uncertain feet, though I could tell that he was trying to get me out of here before Vinny and Brandon changed their minds on releasing me. My brother seemed upset, judging by the disbelief lingering on his face. He herded me over to a car, like the one I’d been driven here in after my capture.
“What the literal fuck, Nate? Going around claiming you’re an alien in human skin?!” Caleb leveled me with a piercing stare, after punching the “Home” icon into the navigation system. “You’re going to tell me everything on the ride over, and then some. I’m going to listen very intently, and figure out what the fuck to do.”
I hesitated, uncertain whether he’d laugh off my story as well, but I owed him the full truth after he saved me from the facility. Even if I could convince him of what my origin had been, how was anyone supposed to react to their suicidal brother being replaced by a Krakotl that wanted to eliminate their entire civilization? I’d seen enough of Earth to believe that Caleb cared about Nathan, and that the variable of his assistance was my only hope of blending in. Sucking in a deep breath, I decided to start at the beginning; laborious detail was the best option I had to prove that it was an authentic memory, not a delusion.
---
Caleb’s pad was more spacious than my apartment, though he didn’t seem keen on giving me a tour. The human must’ve heard my stomach clamoring for flesh now, because he steered me into the kitchen. I watched as my brother rummaged in the refrigerator, retrieving some pink carcass cutlets and cheese with a weary sigh. He found a loaf of bread in the drawer, tugging out several slices. He’d said nothing as I told the entire story, except for the odd interjection to signify he was listening. My hands twitched with wanton hunger, though I forced myself to sit still on a bar stool. The predator was going to fix this soon, if I could have a little more patience.
“So then the others in your guild started laughing, which I guess it’s good that they didn’t just execute me…and they wanted to send me to a predator disease facility.” I watched as Caleb fixated his eyes on stacking meat cutlets and cheese squares atop the bread, obscuring his emotions. “You don’t believe me either, do you?”
The human hesitated, pausing his work on the depraved meal. “I believe that you believe it. Isn’t that enough?”
“I guess so. I’m very sorry about the incident with the squirrel, but like I said, the fruit did nothing to help. Literally nothing! I couldn’t sleep because I was so hungry, and I’d thrown out all the meat I had because it’s a dead fucking animal, so I thought I had to…hunt. I had no idea what that entails or that your people even had any concept of cruelty as a criminal act.”
“Of course we do. It’s not a ‘dead fucking animal’ these days anyway, it’s lab-grown shit. No need for cattle when you can grow as much as you can ever need.” Caleb snatched a knife in his hands, causing me to scoot my stool back. My brother didn’t point it at me, rather using it to saw the sandwich into two halves. “So to recap, you chased those pigeons off because you thought I was going to eat them? Like what, stuff ‘em in my mouth, feathers and all, because I saw them?”
“You’re a predator, so it should’ve tickled your instincts. I had no idea what you wanted or what you might do to me—I thought we were hunting coffees.”
The human snorted. “You were worried I was going to harm you? I’d never hurt you in a million years, Nate. This…this is a tough pill to swallow. I hate seeing you like this, afraid of…me, yourself. You really don’t remember anything, do you?”
“No. I’m sorry for upsetting you. Um, I didn’t ask for this, and if I could let you have your brother back, I would. Honestly, I didn’t even ‘remember’ how to walk. I’d just practiced enough to not fall on my face when you showed up and wanted me to go out, where all the other predators were!”
“I…I see. So if you don’t remember anything, then how did you know my name? There’s some part of Nathan’s memory in there, yeah?”
I bowed my head, uncertain how to respond to that. I’d skipped over finding Nathan’s suicide note to avoid causing further distress for Caleb; the sleeping pills had been mentioned before, but I wasn’t sure how he’d process that his brother had wanted to terminate his existence. The predator paused, after setting the finished sandwich on a plate. He tilted his head in an inquisitive gesture, and withheld the food while waiting for my response. That encouraged me to expedite a truthful reply, since I was almost desperate to reach across the counter and snatch the meal—which Caleb would definitely not appreciate after rescuing me.
This Terran definitely cares about the predator he thinks you are. Better to break his hope that any part of me is Nathan, because that creature is dead.
“Nathan tried to kill himself. The note said he thought he was inadequate, and couldn’t live with it,” I answered, trying not to eyeball the food during my solemn admission. “It mentioned your name, saying that he was…sorry about what he did. Given that he said his brother Caleb would find the note, I guessed that was you.”
Tears swelled in the human’s binocular eyes. “What? Why…why would you do that, Nate? Fuck, don’t answer that; I know you don’t remember. I know you were in a slump, but I never thought…you’re not inadequate. I don’t care what happens, you’re my bro; even now, I’d do anything for my family.”
“I can see that you feel that way. Thank you for helping me, um, I know I don’t deserve it but I’m grateful. What are you going to do?”
“Shit. I’m going to look after you and help you remember everything, the old-fashioned way. What else is there to say? Now eat this, before you go ‘hunting’ in public again. Jeez.”
Caleb slid the plate toward me, and through the intense stomach pains, my reservations about carcass consumption didn’t make an appearance. I tore through a half with ravenous bites, as if it was the last food I’d ever get in my life; my aching belly encouraged me to swallow it down with haste. My addled brain and atrophying muscles needed some converted energy from that source, and pleasurable chemicals flooded my system as a reward for succumbing. My brother implored me to slow down, and only when I heeded his commands did I realize how irrevocable my sin was: I’d become a predator. All I wanted was for the hunger pangs to quell, so despite my humiliating degradation, I knew I had to finish the other half.
Hating myself with every bite, I mashed it up more thoroughly within my teeth. It was now that I allowed myself to sample the flavor of the carcass cutlet, to document what the allure was to predators. The tangy flavor was almost smoky, with hints of sweetness and salt mixed in. The texture was odd, but then again, it was simulated animal skin; overall, its rich taste was enough to stand out on its own. The creamy flavor of the lactation product was a bridge between the hearty grains of the bread, and the traitorously flavorful cutlets. I found myself sucking the taste off my fingers, surprised by how normal it felt on my palate.
Inatala, I don’t know how you can forgive me. Maltos’ curse of bloodlust worked and…I’m damned. I never thought I would come so low.
Caleb flashed his teeth. “Better?”
“We’ll see,” I muttered. “It’ll take some time to reach my stomach. I thought the berries would fix it, and it was crushing when it didn’t. It always was my assumption that predators made wicked choices, but you humans can’t subsist on plants.”
“Nate, the reason it didn’t work was because you ate a woefully insufficient amount of plants for your caloric needs. Look how big our bodies are, especially compared to the aliens you’re thinking of, and ponder how much energy it takes for our upkeep. Meat is useful because it’s nutrient-dense and filling, but if you wanted to become a vegetarian, then you’d have to eat a lot more. Please tell me that makes sense, or this is gonna be a long fucking day.”
Sudden realization compounded my shame, as it clicked why my immoral indulgence was unnecessary. “Of course. Humans need more food than a Krakotl would, because you’re bigger. It’s like how Mazics need a lot of teia every day to sustain themselves.”
“I’ve got no clue what you’re saying, but sure? Anyhow, you can manage some plant nonsense with planning, but I can’t afford to be supporting that habit. You’ll have to do it on your own.”
“Okay. You do see how much I know about all of the Federation species, right? There’s hundreds, so it’s through a lifetime of service in the stars, as Narlem, that I understand so much. How else would I know?”
Caleb crossed his arms. “I think you were depressed, and read a lot of articles about first contact. Everything, every detail you could get your hands on. You pretended you could be them, and after your near-death miracle with that pill stunt, your drugged brain had a break from reality and gave you that alter ego. It fits what your subconscious wanted.”
“Um…was Nate interested enough in aliens to support that theory?”
“Pfft. Check our text logs. You took it as a personal affront to your character when you weren’t accepted to the Venlil exchange program. I told you I applied too, and we never had a realistic chance with all the attention…besides, I didn’t think I could handle having everything I did put under a microscope. Bad candidate here. You’re lucky I love you enough to tolerate it, Nate.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Uh-huh. I don’t know if you’re still hungry, but I’m going to fix you a proper meal. What do you say we make some Texan chili—Mom’s recipe?”
“I don’t know what that is, but I’ll try to help.”
“Good. Just sit tight while I get the ingredients; it’ll be like old times. I miss her. You missed her too.”
Caleb filled a cup with water, before I could ask for something to wash down my sandwich; I sipped at the refreshing liquid, happy to clear the flesh remnants from my mouth. Now that I knew Terrans could eat plants, just in high quantities, I should make it clear to myself that I’d never betray my beliefs again, right? However, while I was under my brother’s roof, I had to abide by his degenerate cuisine; I wasn’t ready to go back out on my own, and I didn’t think he’d let me after the incident. This was a temporary bout of hedonism. I eyed the ingredients he was grabbing, and spotted something red that looked like one of my favorite treats.
I pointed with a slender finger. “That’s a pepper?”
“A chili pepper,” Caleb agreed, while retrieving the appropriate tools. “That’s where the name of the dish comes from.”
A human snarl crossed my face, at the delighted memories of eating fresh peppers from the market. I reached out with my grease-ridden fingers, and snatched one of the red bell-shaped plants by its stem. Caleb looked horrified, reaching to stop me as I popped the whole thing in my mouth. The sensation I was greeted by was not the sweet, juicy flavor that occupied my cravings, but instead, the immediate sense of searing pain across my fleshy tongue. The interior of my maw was flooded by a rush of heat, while other parts of my head had an immediate reaction; my eyes felt like dust had been thrown in them, streaming water. Snot poured down through my nose, flowing past my nostrils onto my upper lip.
I spit out the chili pepper in desperation, and screamed as my mouth continued to tell me it was ablaze. I wanted to rip my tongue out to stop the agony; the heat diffused across every sensory receptor in my jaw. It raised my entire body’s temperature, enough that sweat seeped from my pores and blood rushed to my cheeks. My hand fumbled for water in a daze, chugging the entire glass in a hurry. Caleb cringed as I raced toward the sink, flipping it on and sticking my open mouth under the faucet. He filled a glass with animal lactation juices, and passed it to me. Trusting the predator enough to assume he gave me this nasty beverage for a reason, I chugged it; the milk offered some efficacy in cooling my ignited taste buds.
“That hurt! WHY DID IT BURN ME?!” I shrieked. “Why are you putting this in our food?”
My brother blinked with exasperation. “You weren’t supposed to eat the whole thing. It’s spicy. Let me guess, Krakotl don’t know what spicy food is either, Narlem?”
“Peppers are supposed to taste sweet, not like jet fuel. You’re putting poison in the food. Poisoner!”
“Fucking hell. I’m only going to add a little spice, not enough to melt your organs, dude. Ah, jeez…on second thought, I think you’ll be more harm than good in the kitchen. I didn’t hear you detailing anything about hygiene in your story, so why don’t you go shower up? I’ll leave you a change of clothes in the guest room, and then…since you said you didn’t sleep, get a few winks. I’ll wake you up when there’s more food, yeah?”
“Okay. Sorry, Caleb.”
“Don’t be sorry, be more fucking thoughtful. Before you manage to flood my place or some shit, do you know how to use a shower? And soap?”
“Yes. Obviously. I’m surprised predators have any concept of—”
“Keep that comment to yourself. Let me see, did I forget anything: right, birds don’t have teeth, huh? You should brush your teeth, unless you want them to rot. Since that concept seems to elude you, by that mystified look, you just take the stick with the bristles on it. Then there’s a tube labeled ‘toothpaste.’ You put some on the bristles, and scrub every side of your teeth. Think you can handle that?”
“That sounds manageable.”
“Good. Now get out of here, before you decide to drink antifreeze or something. Hey wait, don’t put anything in your mouth that I didn’t authorize, we clear?”
“Very clear, Caleb. I’m grateful for your help. Show me to the shower and I will attempt to complete your kind’s grooming rituals.”
The predator seemed out of his element handling my lack of knowledge, but he had given me critical pointers for how humans were expected to look after themselves and manage their dietary needs. I followed my brother to the washroom, grateful that I’d be able to cleanse the sweat and contamination of this planet from my body. After that, the idea of nesting with a restful stomach, at long last, sounded wonderful. I had a lot of heavy occurrences to sleep off from these past few days.
A/N - Part 6! Caleb brings Narlem home, after learning the full truth, and finally gets him some food. Our narrator can’t help but get into trouble…since birds can’t taste spice, he experiences quite the dilemma chowing down on a pepper. How do you imagine Caleb is feeling about Nathan? Can Narlem come around about humans under his care?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Comments
Some Lvm
@BXSinclair that seems like an overly broad characterization to me. Granted, I don't have first hand knowledge on the issues of black communities in the US, but if the mainstream media is to be believed, there is a great hatred of police in that community too. Yet Caleb is a police officer and proud of his job, so my guess is he is neither a stereotype, nor of a particular socioeconomic background that would cause a massive distrust of "the establishment". Also, as a police officer, he should have some basic training on recognizing signs of mental problems and when to involve professionals for the safety of the subject. I would expect a 113 years from now such a training to be even better. Granted, when it comes to close relatives, even the best professionals can have a blind spot, and I can understand him being a brother not a cop, but still, it kind of feels like he should be more worried about his brother than he is...
BXSinclair
Narlem, when looking in a mirror, described Nathan's skin as brown A lot of black people don't trust mental health institutions or doctors, because there is a long history, at least in the US, of those institutions harming them and covering it up (There is a reason why black people in the US had some of the lowest rates of Covid vaccination, even as the vaccine was being handed out at no cost and in some cases no appointment needed) Granted, this is 100 years in the future (and seems to be written by an alien) so this might not be the case
Some Lvm
I am wondering if something in Caleb's background makes him averse to healthcare professionals in general, and mental health professionals specifically? First he tries to get his brother to "walk off" what clearly looks like signs of brain trauma, than when the situations gets much worse he tries to take care of it himself, "under the table", all the while seemingly not giving a though to the possibility he is out of his depth. Even after hearing his brother attempted to commit suicide, he still does not consult anyone who might have experience or an insight, and thinks he can just plow through it with a good meal and a hot shower. Unlike Narlem, he must realize the options are not just "do nothing" vs "put his brother in a padded room". Why won't he try to a least consult a doctor?
T___
There is a bunch symptoms that in children and young adults, but sometimes in adults is diagnosed as conduct disorder. Symptoms include: • difficulty following rules • difficulty behaving in a socially acceptable way • hurting animals • lying or manipulating people • ignoring the rights and feelings of other people • physical aggression • trouble feeling and expressing empathy or remorse • trouble performing well in the community • rejection of conventional values Associated conditions may include depression, ODD, borderline personality disorder, schizophrenia and self-harm. It can be seen as one end of the spectrum, psychopathy being the other end.
