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Day 13 In the Cell: Finally, some slack.

It has almost been two weeks. We have been given nothing, we have done nothing. But, we have learnt a lot.

Four days ago, I took some of the cloth from the medical bed and cleaned up some of the blood from the walls. If nothing is going to happen, then I may as well spend my time wisely. Upon inspection of the inspection room above (how ironic), I noticed the other scientists writing in notebooks rapidly. I though I may have been a test subject. It would explain the room, and as to why the other Xenomorph weren't trying to attack me. I found that very odd, and so assumed I was injected or bathed in a liquid. When I turned back to continue my business, I noticed a large, black shape reflected off of the cleaned steel. I thought silently that this may have been what they were testing - camoflage devices. However, when I turned, there was nothing there - but the shape still lingered in the steel, copying my every move. Thoughts were constantly being pumped into my brain, whether I was going insane, whether the camoflage had side-effects, or even if this steel had tiny LEDs displaying an illusion.

I continued this menial task, day unto night, leaving no time for rest. However, when our captors returned, I looked at myself, as they were to me. Black chitin, covering me. What they had done in this, I have no idea. But I wanted revenge on something. Anything. I realised that I was a test subject being held with these strange predators, but I had become the thing I feared most - Death. Of course, it sounds cliché, but it's true. I have never needed to fear up until this... planet.

Now the ultimate dissector has become the ultimate vivisectionist. A flash of relisation hit me as soon as I felt the rage too, and so I felt inclined to smash through the glass and tear someones throat out. But it's bullet proof, and five guards are always kept in there.

Instead, making sure my anger flowed through to my fists and tail (if possible), I approached the door and tried to tear a hole into it. Of course, this failed, but I made a reasonably large mark, which saved me of embarassment. Again, I hit. Again and Again. I could see, well, not see but sense, that more guards were entering the room. When I had finally made a crack, others started to copy. The guards ended up hurrying out of the room, probably making their way to my chamber. After about ten minutes, a gap the size of both of my fists had been opened. From there, it was simply tearing this open and rushing out as fast as I could. The door was extremely thick, clearly made to withstand bullets, kicks and maybe even acid. It was meant to take a beating like this, but for some reason it collapsed. By inspection of the inside of the door, I saw that metal sacs, probably made to support the door in case of an attempted breach, were deflated. Someone was on my side.

At present, I am hiding inside an air vent, waiting for one of the other Xenomorph to pass. I don't know why, I just feel like it's safer to be in groups, whereas I used to love solitude. Unfortunately, after about an hour, nothing came. Not even a soldier, passing from underneath. Nothing. I decided to exit to the corridor beneath, and hope to find some kind of work station for study. Preferable my own, since I know that I had what I need inside. A measuring cylinder. I have my other parts, now I just need something to measure them out with. wanted to make a kind of acid so I wouldn't need to constantly try to break through doors or find another route.

I feel fragile in this state. I say state in hopes that I'm not like this forever, but I feel weak - but my actions prove almost the opposite. It is strange, though, having to kill things to survive. It's only been a day, and already I've killed three times. That may not seem like much, but there are probably only a few scores of humans remaining.

Day ???: The Smell of Blood

Since I've broken out of the cell, I don't know what day to refer this as.

Every now and then, I have to crawl through vents and shafts to access places like storage or other labs. At other times, it's because I need to get away from a soldier. Either way, I get in tight, cramped spaces with almost no room to move.

Later, while wandering through dormitory rooms, a comm system announced that evacuation ships were preparing to take off. Perfect! Now. Just to find the main shuttle bay.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Day 13 In the Cell: Finally, some slack.

It has almost been two weeks. We have been given nothing, we have done nothing. But, we have learnt a lot.

Four days ago, I took some of the cloth from the medical bed and cleaned up some of the blood from the walls. If nothing is going to happen, then I may as well spend my time wisely. Upon inspection of the inspection room above (how ironic), I noticed the other scientists writing in notebooks rapidly. I though I may have been a test subject. It would explain the room, and as to why the other Xenomorph weren't trying to attack me. I found that very odd, and so assumed I was injected or bathed in a liquid. When I turned back to continue my business, I noticed a large, black shape reflected off of the cleaned steel. I thought silently that this may have been what they were testing - camoflage devices. However, when I turned, there was nothing there - but the shape still lingered in the steel, copying my every move. Thoughts were constantly being pumped into my brain, whether I was going insane, whether the camoflage had side-effects, or even if this steel had tiny LEDs displaying an illusion.

I continued this menial task, day unto night, leaving no time for rest. However, when our captors returned, I looked at myself, as they were to me. Black chitin, covering me. What they had done in this, I have no idea. But I wanted revenge on something. Anything. I realised that I was a test subject being held with these strange predators, but I had become the thing I feared most - Death. Of course, it sounds cliché, but it's true. I have never needed to fear up until this... planet.

Now the ultimate dissector has become the ultimate vivisectionist. A flash of relisation hit me as soon as I felt the rage too, and so I felt inclined to smash through the glass and tear someones throat out. But it's bullet proof, and five guards are always kept in there.

Instead, making sure my anger flowed through to my fists and tail (if possible), I approached the door and tried to tear a hole into it. Of course, this failed, but I made a reasonably large mark, which saved me of embarassment. Again, I hit. Again and Again. I could see, well, not see but sense, that more guards were entering the room. When I had finally made a crack, others started to copy. The guards ended up hurrying out of the room, probably making their way to my chamber. After about ten minutes, a gap the size of both of my fists had been opened. From there, it was simply tearing this open and rushing out as fast as I could. The door was extremely thick, clearly made to withstand bullets, kicks and maybe even acid. It was meant to take a beating like this, but for some reason it collapsed. By inspection of the inside of the door, I saw that metal sacs, probably made to support the door in case of an attempted breach, were deflated. Someone was on my side.

At present, I am hiding inside an air vent, waiting for one of the other Xenomorph to pass. I don't know why, I just feel like it's safer to be in groups, whereas I used to love solitude. Unfortunately, after about an hour, nothing came. Not even a soldier, passing from underneath. Nothing. I decided to exit to the corridor beneath, and hope to find some kind of work station for study. Preferable my own, since I know that I had what I need inside. A measuring cylinder. I have my other parts, now I just need something to measure them out with. wanted to make a kind of acid so I wouldn't need to constantly try to break through doors or find another route.

I feel fragile in this state. I say state in hopes that I'm not like this forever, but I feel weak - but my actions prove almost the opposite. It is strange, though, having to kill things to survive. It's only been a day, and already I've killed three times. That may not seem like much, but there are probably only a few scores of humans remaining.

Day ???: The Smell of Blood

Since I've broken out of the cell, I don't know what day to refer this as.

Every now and then, I have to crawl through vents and shafts to access places like storage or other labs. At other times, it's because I need to get away from a soldier. Either way, I get in tight, cramped spaces with almost no room to move.

Later, while wandering through dormitory rooms, a comm system announced that evacuation ships were preparing to take off. Perfect! Now. Just to find the main shuttle bay.