Arachna awoke to the sound of pounding.

"Help, please, don't eat me...ahh—"

Slam

Something vibrated against her frozen box. Where was she? The freezer in which she rested shook. It didn't sound like gunfire as much as a heavy object slamming into her repository.

Slam

In an instant, she was on her side. The entire fridge had toppled over, lying prone like a Yumen casket preparing to be delivered into the ground. Frozen boxes of Yumen food collided with the abdomen. Ouch.

Shots rang out around her.

"There it is," a heavy voice said. "The loose dactyl we've been tracking."

Bam, bam, bam

Several stray bullets pummeled her freezer revealing tiny peepholes that streamed in light from the kitchen. Bodies of chefs and soldiers lay on the ground, their chests gouged out, blood pooling all around.

In an instant, the lights went out. Arachna could still see in the dim light.

"Where'd it go?" a marine said. He was joined by three other soldiers, guns raised as they walked into the room. Their bulky armor clanged as they walked by hanging pots and pans, pushing them over.

"Activating nightvis—gawahh" a marine said as a lighting fast tail flicked down from the ceiling above and pierced his visor, impaling him through the head.

"Up top," another voice said.

Flashes of gunfire erupted, illuminating the room like the flicker of a thousand stars in the black of space. The marines spread their fire, covering every corner of the ceiling.

Beaky? she said psionically. Had her dactyl friend come to rescue her? Unable to cloak, he was using the darkness like a Krath instinctually should.

"Where'd he go? Did we get him?"

"I dunno, stay alert."

Dactyls were skilled in melee combat like underlings but their fanlike wings made it hard for them to maneuver in small spaces. Panic coursed through Arachna's thoughts as she feared for Beaky's life.

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Are you okay? she said psionically.

There was no response.

Flashlights strobed through the room as the three soldiers searched for the missing dactyl. She desperately hoped that Beaky was okay.

If only she could get out of this locked freezer, she'd come out and help—her hands.

She peered down at her two frontal limbs. So it hadn't been a dream. The chitinous layer that had formed two bulbs was gone, peeled away like the exoskeleton of a molting insect.

No time to savor the moment. With her newly metamorphized hands she searched the side of the freezer. There had to be a lever or button or some sort of pressure point that she could grasp. There it was. Perfectly fitted to a Yumen-sized hand.

Click.

A latch opened somewhere inside the mechanism inside the freezer's door. A failsafe unlocking mechanism in case a Yumen were ever trapped inside. She couldn't believe it. Arachna was free.

Beaky was not far away. I will distract them and you run, he said. She could hear his twin heartbeats pulsing rapidly back-and-forth as he crouched on the floor using the freezer as a barricade. His wings were riddled with bullets, acidic blood rushing out onto the floor.

She wanted to fight but she knew instinctually that Beaky was right. There were three large soldiers and she likely would be of much value. Beaky, on the other hand, was a fully-grown dactyl.

But she also felt that this would be Beaky's last fight. He wouldn't last long once the Yumens found him.

Bam, bam, bam.

A shower of shots rained down, riddling Beaky's wings with holes. He reacted instantaneously, drawing back. As he did, the clanging of loose metal utensils on the floor gave away his position.

"Finish him."

More shots ran out.

The three marines trained their shots on Beaky. She sensed his pain. The dactyl was bearing a lot of it.

In an instant, Beaky's eyes glowed red.

Cacaw.

He emitted a pulsating psionic wave that rippled through the room, undulating like waves in an ocean.

"Ah, what is that?" a marine said, his voice high-pitched and weary.

Cacaw

Beaky repeated his attack, more forcefully this time. His psionic blast pushed Arachna's freezer over, scattering kitchen utensils, tables, unopened packages of food, and everything else away from him like ground zero of an explosion.

The three marines were laying on the ground. Two were out cold while the other clutched his head in pain.

"What did you do?" Arachna clicked.

Beaky hissed, pulling himself up and crawling forward.

"Must finish them," Beaky clicked. "Before they recover." The tired dactyl was pooling blood. What he needed was Xitherium, or some other form of sustenance to help him regenerate from his wounds.

"Help," one of the marines said. "It hurts. I can't see. What happened?" He pulled his helmet off, struggling to recover his senses. A foggy layer of blackness congealed over the man's eyes.

Beaky stood over him, peering into the blind man's face, smalling his next meal. The blackness slowly faded from the soldier's eyes. As he regained his vision, his expression changed from one of relief to one of pure horror.

As he opened his mouth to speak, Beaky plunged his razor-sharp bill into the man's throat.

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