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The Nature of Predators - Human Exterminators 2 (7/9)
🕑 Added 2023-08-23 11:00:05 +0000 UTCMemory transcription subject: William Kane, Human Exterminator
Date [standardized human time]: January 21, 2137
Leather straps were bound around my wrists, cutting deeply as they held me in an upright position. I groaned, not recognizing my surroundings; a narrow stairway leading up suggested I was in the supply store’s basement. My first instinct was to tug against the restraints, but they stubbornly kept me dangling from a metal beam. I could feel a throbbing welt on my skull, where I’d gotten clubbed by the very people I longed to join. Why would Humanity First, who shared my beliefs, have attacked me?
They weren’t violent terrorists; they were supposed to be an instrument of real change. Through my mental fog, I was cogent enough to regret forking over the drive. These people weren’t who I thought at all, calling for the abduction of aliens…to hold a trial against them for existing! That was the same as the constant song-and-dance routine that was sought from me, for being a predator. How could Paulo have lured me here, or recruited me under false pretenses? Why bother to fatten up my ego, and hand over gifts?
Malthe walked in front of me, cracking his knuckles. “Ah, you’re awake. I knew who you were the minute you showed your face at the meeting: William Kane, the first human to crawl into bed with the predator-burning aliens. The exterminators’ lapdog, or no, their court jester! It may be unconventional to ask a new recruit to take drastic measures, but it was the only way to discern the truth about you. I see it, crystal clear. You have feelings for aliens, traitor.”
The HF branch leader spat in my face, and with my hands bound, I could do nothing to wipe the goop off my face. While it had been a test after all, the way Malthe Hansen phrased his speech suggested that the organization did legitimately engage in such practices. Genuine fear began to rise in my chest, as I wondered whether they were going to kill me. In fact, the only reason I woke at all was likely because they wished to extort something from me. Staring into the top dog’s eyes, I saw someone plainly evil, rather than a persecuted patriot.
I see it now…high-ranking HF members manipulate people like me into doing their bidding. The anger is genuine, but they don’t care who they target at all, do they? Humans or aliens, anyone who opposes their rampage.
I gritted my teeth. “I’m going to tank this place’s online reviews. 1 star for customer service—”
My quip was cut off by a punch to my gut, as Malthe was less than amused. My body attempted to double over, but the restraints kept me from curling up into a ball; my organs felt tenderized from that knuckle strike. No tough guy act could disguise the inevitable truth, that I was going to die alone like my family did. Everyone in my squad cautioned me against coming here, and begged me not to lean into hatred…but I didn’t listen. Nobody even knew where I was or who I’d been associating with, and it was entirely my fault. I pushed everyone away, not caring who I harmed in pursuit of my goals, just like Humanity First.
You and Malthe are perfect for each other, William. You deserve this, so suck it the fuck up.
A dark corner of my mind informed me that I could be the next body tossed in a dumpster. Was it possible that Luca Ricci was killed for refusing to comply with orders, just like I had done today? Volek and Althea had been right about me being blinded to that possibility. These extremists were certainly capable of killing a man in cold blood, and leaving the corpse in a dumpster. Malthe’s eyes were as cold and hollow as I felt on the inside.
“Right, I’d like to speak to your manager,” I coughed out.
Malthe gave the gloating smirk of someone who knew he’d won. “Ah, I am the manager, Mr. Kane. Isn’t that right, Paulo?”
The Brazilian looked uncomfortable, but nodded along with a taut expression. It was only now that I noticed my recruiter was present, huddled on the stairs; it looked like he wanted to bury his face in his hands. There was almost an apologetic glint in his brown eyes, though he kept his words to himself. Perhaps his warnings for me not to fuck up my “opportunity” had been in the genuine interest of keeping me alive.
“Isn’t that right, Paulo?” the HF leader sneered. “Answer me, or I’ll shoot this fucker like I did with Luca…but right in front of you, this time.”
He just admitted it. They killed their own guy! Did Paulo know that, when he looked at those crime scene pictures? Fucking hell…
Paulo gulped. “You’re…the boss. You know I won’t s-say anything to anyone…but…”
“But? Come closer now, and look me in the eyes.”
“Um, alright.” The soldier stood, trudging over like a dog with his tail between his legs. “With the highest reverence, Will is an asset. We went over the talking points of that interview together, sir! This is a mistake. He wants us in charge, and he’s been pushing for ref—”
Malthe grabbed a wooden board that was leaning against the wall, and clobbered Paulo in the lower midsection. The Brazilian’s protests turned into a whimper; he clutched at the affected area on the floor, earning an instinctive wince from me. I couldn’t discern whether I felt appreciative of his attempts to stand up for me, or betrayed by him bringing me here in the first place. My wrists tried to escape the restraints again, but there was no give. I was at these people’s mercy, right after they admitted to killing Luca. My pain tolerance wasn’t particularly high either, so I wasn’t sure how long I could maintain my composure.
“What does our leadership say must happen to any human that supports xenos? No exceptions. Our existence is on the line!” Malthe spat. “I could do worse to you, Paulo, for bringing someone without any loyalty into our midst. So don’t give me a reason to hang you up there with him.”
I met his eyes, as he returned his focus to me. “I’m sick and tired of being treated like dogshit, just for existing, too, but I’d never go after a fucking orphan teen. How can we claim we’re not monsters, if we genocide every xeno for existing, even the ones that didn’t hurt us? It’s their society that needs to go.”
“They’re all the same. Not one is innocent! You can’t want this society to be reborn, and not be willing to let it die—the stepping stone to that very thing!”
“I’m all for ruffling feathers; it’s my claim to fame. But if there’s a non-violent way to kickstart change, why wouldn’t we want that? It all needs to be rebuilt from scratch, but nobody else needs to die. I’ve had my fill of death…from Earth…haven’t you?”
“Funny. I haven’t seen nearly enough death since Earth. Too many people are weak, like you, unwilling to do what’s needed. A price is due, and we’re the only humans with the stomach to collect on that debt.”
“How does Luca have anything to do with that debt? You left a human refugee in a dumpster, why? Because when you told him to jump, he didn’t ask how high? Or—”
A fist compressed the cartilage of my nose, and my head snapped back fast enough to give me whiplash. Perhaps I’d lost it, but I found myself laughing hysterically as blood dripped onto my upper lip. If I was going to die here no matter what, I might as well push Malthe’s buttons. The same way I threw Federation ideology back in the exterminators’ faces, I would hurl his own hypocrisy and derangement back at him. This guy was talking like a doomsday cultist, not a patriot of Earth who wanted to give humans a chance at an honest existence here.
Hit him where it hurts: in his fragile ego. Go down on your terms, William. Your life’s meant nothing, and neither will your death—might as well lean into how it’s all a big fucking joke.
“Why don't you untie me and have a real fight, like a man?” I sneered, flexing my fingers. “It’s easy to be tough—“
“Shut up, you xeno cocksucker!” Malthe positioned himself behind me, tugging on the back of my scalp with enough force to remove clumps of black hair. “You’ll tell me what I want to know, if you want to live to see another day.”
“See, but I don’t. Not really. I’m a worthless piece of shit, I have nothing, and I just hurt people. Do your worst—I’ll be impressed if the physical pain hurts half as much as living with myself has.”
Hansen chuckled bitterly. “You mean that, don’t you?”
“I thought Humanity First would give me a purpose. The truth is, there’s no purpose to anything I do. Put me out of my misery. At least I won’t have to look at you any—”
“Enough. Let’s see how brave you really are!” The HF leader’s grip tightened deeper into my scalp, and his free arm pulled a revolver from his waistband. There was a click, as he jabbed the barrel against my temple. “Your portal login. Give it to me, or I’ve got no reason not to blow your brains out!”
Fear flared up subconsciously, with an actual gun touching my cranium. “R-right. Password’s…123gofuckyourself.”
“Damn, you sure think you’re a tough nut to crack. Guess we have to do this the fun way then.”
The HF branch leader whistled in the direction of the stairs. Four buff goons hustled down into the basement; I vaguely recognized their harsh-looking visages from earlier. The henchmen prowled past Paulo, who was still languishing on the floor. My eyes widened, unable to mask my alarm as one underling handed Malthe a cleaver. The idea of being tortured until I started…singing made my blood run cold. I could accept that I deserved to die, but was I truly unsavory enough to merit this?
“No one can hear you scream, William. Let’s see how many fingers I have to cut off before you squeal. You’re a squealer, aren’t you?” Hansen purred. “Fellas, hold him still. And Paulo, you fucking baby? I’ll do this to you the next time you bring a traitor into our midst. Remember every excruciating detail.”
Full-fledged panic was occupying my psyche, as I curled my fingers to keep them out of reach. Malthe plunged a smaller blade into my thigh, which caused me to lose concentration. He swiftly uncurled my fingers; the sudden pain had relaxed my muscles enough. I tried to jerk my hand away, but could only writhe within the restraints. Sweat beaded on my forehead, while my eyes darted around the room for any hope. My pupils landed on the sunlight floating through the egress window, and I swore I saw a livid Rauln. How hard had these HF goons hit my head?
Malthe flashed his teeth, and the blade hovered over my hand. The sound of shattering glass prevented him from chopping away; the HF branch leader and his goons swiveled toward the noise. The thugs scrambled away from me, seeking out cover, as gunfire reverberated through the room. Fyron’s arm was visible, firing several rounds through a jagged opening in the glass. Rauln, in a firesuit, initiated a crazed charge during the covering fire. That hotheaded idiot was brandishing his flamethrower rather than a proper weapon. For some reason, the Krakotl had showed up too, hurrying after the Venlil pyro.
What the fuck are they doing here? How…why? I’ve done nothing to earn their help with my belligerence.
Malthe managed to fire an errant shot back, as he retreated behind a coffee table. “Just the three we’re looking for. I guess William did bring them straight to us. Kill them all!”
I could only watch the literal firefight, suspended by the leather straps. Rauln’s flamethrower was guzzling up its fuel, as the Venlil sprayed a gratuitous inferno in a wide arc. The heat could be felt across the room, and the smoky exterminator saw no issue with setting the basement alight while we were still in it. Couldn’t he wait to untie me, before turning every furniture piece in the cellar into kindling? I guess it was one way to flush the hiding thugs out; with his suit, he was immune to flames’ effect.
Luala was ready when a goon rose to fire at her, catching him with a clean shot to the head. However, she left herself vulnerable to a different attacker, while focusing on one target. I attempted to shout out a warning, but my throat had gone dry from panic. In spite of my hatred for the Krakotl, all I felt was horror as I saw an HF brute line her up with a sidearm. Guilt clamped at my chest, at the thought that she would die for me, while I’d done little but disparage her. In a just world, these xenos would’ve left me here, and I couldn’t see why they hadn’t.
As I spiraled into a pit of self-hatred, I was prepared for the worst to befall the Krakotl. However, the HF thug’s shot never came. Paulo had crawled toward the attacker on all fours, and lunged at him. The Brazilian soldier stiff-armed the man directly into a patch of flames; the ear-piercing screams were unmistakable signs of agony. My recruiter’s shirt sleeves caught ablaze too, though he was able to pat the fire out before it spread. However, the other guy wasn’t so lucky. When the goon stood, flailing about and engulfed in flames, Fyron was ready to pick him off.
“Paulo saved a Krakotl?” I croaked out, finding my voice amid disbelief. “He…wanted Luala dead.”
The Krakotl and the Farsul teamed up, executing another two goons with practiced cohesion. That left one enemy in our midst: the boss. Rauln was approaching Malthe without fear, and mounted the coffee table with wild hisses. It was clear the HF branch leader wasn’t that good of a shot, aside from point-blank executions; none of his bullets had struck the bold Venlil. Anger smoldered in my roommate’s eyes through the visor, the same fury that he exuded while he was pounding Fyron to a pulp.
“DIE, PREDATOR FILTH!” the Venlil barked in a throaty snarl.
The exterminator was well-practiced in burning down flesh-eating beasts, and at last, he could give in to his fantasy of immolating a misbehaving human. Malthe’s shrieks were something I knew I’d never forget, as the merciless teenager bathed him in flames for seconds on end. Under normal circumstances, I’d admonish Rauln for using such tactics against a Terran, like we were animals. Yet it was tough to criticize the fluffer for rescuing me, and “accidentally” torching a murderer along the way. As far as I was concerned, there was no misconduct happening here.
More concerning is how close those out-of-control flames are getting to where I am. I don’t want to be torched by Rauln, of all Venlil.
“Hey! Help me!” I called out to Fyron and Luala.
The sisters in arms shared a glance, before hurrying over to me. The Farsul got to work untying the leather cuffs on one arm, while Luala took the other. I was trembling with relieved gratitude, as the fanfic aficionado freed my left limb. The Krakotl took her time on her clasp, failing to release me in the same quick span as Fyron had. My thankfulness turned to impatience, and I cast a glare on her that imparted, “Hurry up.” The bird pecked her beak against my ear in response, which caused my eyebrows to shoot up in disbelief.
“The fuck did you just do, barbecue?” I muttered.
The Krakotl continued to tug at the knot. “I should leave you here to barbecue, extra crispy. You thought I wouldn’t know what that is, but I do.”
“The spread of human culture is…irresistible.”
“Ah yes, the culture of having more chicken dishes than stars in the sky.”
“You have a narrow vision of humanity. We are so much more.”
“More what? Diverse in the types of carcasses you eat?”
Fyron shifted over to help Luala. “Human diets are special. Maybe I’ll have to learn about some of these chicken dishes for my book. What if Ryan doesn’t know what Krakotl are, and mistakes them for food?”
“Nothing we eat has blue feathers!” I protested.
“Yet.”
“The fuck does that mean? Are we dyeing chickens UN colors?”
The last strap binding me came free, and I crashed to my knees. The sudden pain in my thigh reminded me that a knife was still plunged into it, not dissimilar from the blade stuck in Rauln’s neck when I rescued him. I tried to stand, but the throbbing sensation in my ribs made my face contort in agony. Maybe there was something broken by my sternum. Now that I focused on it, I realized Malthe had done a number on my nose too; blood poured from my nostrils like an open faucet.
“Can you walk?” Luala asked, to which I shook my head in the negative. “Okay, put one arm on me, and one on Fyron. We got you.”
I heeded her commands, and the duo helped me limp around the pockets of flame. Smoke was hitting my lungs, leaving a burning sensation in my chest. I coughed weakly, and with the adrenaline wearing off, that sent a stabbing pain through my sternum. The white-hot agony sapped the last of my strength, leaving Fyron and Luala to haul my dead weight to the egress window. Vague concern pierced my mind despite the toll of my injuries, and I looked for my roommate.
“Where’s Rauln?” I croaked.
Fyron angled her ears in the direction of the angsty teen; the Venlil exterminator was wading through hungry flames, ensuring a torrent of fire stayed on the toasted Malthe Hansen. It was as if Rauln hated Humanity First more than the Farsul, but I didn’t want to be egoist by presuming it was because these guys hurt me. Paulo was staggering in our direction, and saw us signal to the crazed pyro. The Brazilian tapped Rauln on the shoulder while shuffling by, and pointed toward us. I made a gun gesture with my hand, and the Venlil slouched into a pouting posture.
Rauln seemed disappointed by the end of his fun, though he got the message to ensure that Malthe was a goner with bullets. The Venlil needed a single trigger pull to put the HF leader down. Hansen’s end was a point-blank execution, just as he’d finished off Luca Ricci. I bet it would offend him that he met his demise at the paws of the very xeno he’d wished to try for threatening to burn humans. With a roaring inferno behind him, the Venlil teen looked like a badass from an action movie. I really shouldn’t have been cheering on this method of choice.
This fluffball is supposed to be my cute little bro, not a psycho! At least he wasn’t outright cackling at Malthe’s screams. Venlil can be bloodthirsty…much more than an average “predator.”
Paulo limped away from Rauln, turning his back to the crazed Venlil. My roommate decided not to attack the HF recruiter, perhaps having seen him save Luala through a Venlil’s wide vision. In my stupor, it still occurred to me that we needed a witness to close the murder case in Volek’s book; perhaps the man who lured me here could fulfill that role. The three exterminators boosted me up through the window, then aided the unsteady Brazilian in escaping too. I managed to drag myself onto solid ground with upper body strength, before collapsing in extreme pain.
Other humans from across the refugee camp had noticed the smoke from the building, and no doubt the gunfire had been loud enough to detect. First responders were already heading toward the scene, with paramedics coming to tend to me. I smiled at Rauln, as the flamethrower-wielding Venlil emerged from the basement. My roommate had all but forgotten his quarrel with Fyron, with our lives at stake. I couldn’t believe that these aliens had arrived to rescue me from a mess of my own making.
“You…guys saved me,” I coughed. “You were right about me, about Humanity First, about all of it. I’ve been awful, and I…”
Luala looked up briefly, as she was cuffing Paulo. “Even if you don’t care about me, I care about you, Will. I can’t help it. For what it’s worth, we make a good team.”
“Hm. You’re not so bad, Luala. Er, for a Krakotl.”
“And you’re not so bad for a Farsul, Fyron,” Rauln admitted. “We made quick work of those filthy predators.”
Fyron ducked her head. “I, uh, normally wouldn’t call humans that? Especially when we’re in their refugee camp?”
“Bah. There’s humans, and there’s predators. I know what I saw back there. All of us protected Will from being a dumbfuck, ‘cause despite being a predator, he couldn’t see an ambush coming a mile away.”
I sighed. “I know you told me not to talk to them. Look at my face. Do you have to gloat?”
“Yeah. I would’ve punched you in the face for running off if Malthe hadn’t prettied you up for me already.”
“Aw, Rauln thinks I’m pretty! But wait…how did you all even find me?”
“When I hugged you back home? I put a tracker in your coat pocket.”
“You little…ugh! You can’t just do that! That’s such a violation of privacy. That’s stalking…it’s predatory, Rauln!”
“I learned from the best,” the Venlil replied coyly. “You’re welcome.”
I snorted in disbelief. There was no question I should be counting my lucky stars to have escaped Humanity First alive, due to an undeserving rescue by my alien companions. The case suddenly didn’t chew at me as much; knowing that it was human-on-human violence, not a hate crime, had a way of changing my perspective. It was unclear what my future with the exterminators would be, or whether my wayward venture would have ramifications for my job.
However, right now, I was grateful for the third chance at life. Humans could be genuine friends with aliens, but if that was the future I wanted, my anger and hatred needed to be a relic of the past. After giving plenty of lip service about “being a better William Kane”, it was time to finally do it for the important people around me.
A/N - Part 7! William realizes that this HF cell is nothing like we wished them to be, and that they're behind Luca's murder; as Malthe Hansen is about to "break" him to achieve his goals, however, the alien squad shows up to bail him out. Rauln goes for a pyro act, Paulo attempts to stand up for William and saves a Krakotl, and Luala demonstrates that she knows what BBQ is. Do you guys think Mr. Kane has learned his lesson, after taking a beating and nearly dying? Can he atone and make amends for his betrayal of his friends? Will the exterminators guild find out what he did (and if so, will they fire and/or arrest him)?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
