Sweet Jesus, five hours of non-stop battle. I’ve never killed anything for so long as I did today. I had to switch out my power pack fifty-seven times and must have killed over two thousand of those alien horde bastards. Not to mention taking out a few other assholes who pissed me off. Stupid shits, don’t you dare touch me when I’m going hardcore. Lot’s of those fuckin’ homos and trans-bitches feeling me up as I’m trying to get my kill-on. That will teach them. I ain’t got time for your over-sexed mania.
Even though this planet’s rotation has an extra hour to it, the night seemed to set in awfully fast. I bet that massive moon in orbit must have a hand in blocking out the sun a bit earlier. Kinda weird how it looks like there’s a human skull shape to it. Sets the mood for this place, that’s for sure. So anyway, my blood was no longer pumping for the thrill of giving death, I had all been spent of that rush hours ago. What now? Well, now I was just fucking tired, hungry, and really needing to take a shit.
There was a lull in the fighting. The creatures seemed to pull back for the time being. Long enough for us to regroup and figure out who survived. Not many, that’s for sure…
“You still alive cocksucker?”
The guy I met coming into this trench at the beginning was still around. His scratched up face seemed to have few new deep cuts added to it, along with human and alien bits splattered over him. He laughed at my scowl and shook my hand.
“The name’s Taft! Good to know there’s another like me who just love blowing shit up instead of fucking it.”
Taft was reasonably fit. The tattoos on his arms gave away his allegiance to white supremacy. Still, the man was friendlier then most. I shook his hand with a tight squeeze and wiped the blood back onto his torn jacket. It seemed to be missing the sleeves, and a few pockets. No doubt from all the people and aliens clawing at him in these pits. I didn’t even bother telling him my name. But suddenly, he just gave a weird look and grinned.
“Oh, one of those, huh?” He chortled. “Strong silent type. Well, shit son… that’ll change once you’ve been in a few skirmishes on this world. You’ll be buddying up with some of us in no time.”
“The fuck I will.” I snorted. “I don’t swing that way fellas. I may have in the past, after few drinks and meth… but I prefer the smooth taste of vagina.”
He laughed out loud and slapped me on the back. The other men and few women survivors came up from behind, sharing in the laughter, and cavorted about as if to demonstrate what I meant.
“Oh, you are going to love it here, man.” Taft stated, after the ruckus. “If you survive long enough to enjoy it.”
* * *
Those that were in charge of our group, or self proclaimed high ranking officers (of a sort), allowed us to fall back to the main camp and refuel ourselves. I could barely keep my gun in hand anymore, I was so beat. The journey to basecamp seemed long, and I started to take note of the leftovers joining me for the trip; a handful of beefy lookin’ women, two scrawny ass pedo-boys, and at least five of the hardened killers like myself. The ones smiling back at me were undoubtedly the serial kind. Only they would be grinning ear to ear after that kind of workout.
We said nothing to each other on the way, not that there was much to chat about in the first place. We all looked tired, dirty, with the look of bewilderment as the war continued on without us. The other squadron of convict soldiers rushed past us with renewed vigour, they looked excited for the next wave of attacks that were sure to come in the coming minutes. More power to them, I say. I’ll be back in there soon enough.
The closer we got to the camp, the more I got a scope of our numbers in this battle. You want to talk about a combined prison feel? This was like stepping into the super-max convention of tens of thousands. You had to wonder of just how twisted humanity truly is to have this many sickos put here. The planet wasn’t anything super pretty. Not even with us all as the backdrop. The place was torn up from battle, and looked more like burnt out quarry with bits of vegetation sticking out like a bad haircut.
The camp itself was pretty much what it was. A few tents propped up, a guy stuck slinging food onto dinner trays and some sleep-sacks littered about for those that wanted to crash. They had a make-shift bathroom off to the side of the camp area. Someone stuck a sign up that said: “Enter at your own risk”
I wonder if that was meant to be a joke about the smell, or the fact that you could become a victim if you ventured into that dimly lit stretch of outhouses. The blood smeared on the door made me think the latter. I’d make my own hole and shit in it, no need to gamble on my first day. The women prisoners probably had it worst than the men, but, who knows in a place like this. Judging from our lot, it could be anyone’s rape funeral out here.
* * *
The chow wasn’t bad, had a familiar taste to it, but I didn’t want to know what. I think the cook was scoping out his next ‘catch of the day’ among those that came in. He seemed eye our bodies a little too much as he slopped the dinner on our plates. Thankfully, I was probably not in his category of lean meat, so I get to live another day, I suppose. My trench group sat together at a table, and told tales of our various adventures and killing sprees. Most wanted to talk about The Alien Horde, and just how easy it was to gut them with knives and bare hands. You had to wonder why we were down here at all if it was that easy to rip them apart.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“It’s like… I dunno… touching jellyfishes…” The brute of a woman called, Sheba stated to us all. “They look tough on the outside, but… more of a soft, rubbery skin you can just peel back, you know?”
“Colonist pussies…” One of the Pedo-boys snarked, “They couldn’t be bothered to give it a try. So they send us all down here to do the dirty work for them. Shit, they don’t even have any weapons! Just those tentacle things…”
“Bet you’d love that, Ted…” Taft snickered at him.
“Fuck you, man!” Ted sharply snapped back. “I’m making a point here.”
“That’s what she said…” Sheba giggled.
“Fuck you too, ya big bitch!”
That caused her to snap and reached over to the guy. She managed to pick him up with one hand, and toss him to the next table. That pissed off the others there, who then took their sharp forks and knives and repeated stabbed the stupid fucker to death. He wailed and whined for a bit, but once he was dead, the others returned to eating… right over his dead corpse. I shrugged my shoulders and at my unknown meal.
“That’s one pedo down…” I gazed up to the other scrawny guy at the other end to the table. “One more to go…”
Taft, always one to shift the conversation, continued to talk about the aliens.
“Look, Ted did have a point though. Those creatures aren’t really a big threat. I mean, he’s there’s a lot of them, and they do come in huge waves, but… for the most part, they’re really just dumb sheep being flung at us. What’s the deal here? Why do these assholes need us to kill them all for them?”
“Because we’re a cheap army.” Sheba grunted. “Why waste good people, just send in people that are already heading for the death chamber.”
“Still doesn’t make sense to me.”
“You’ve got to be shitty me here.” I finally spoke. “How long have you guys been battling these things now? Years? Decades?”
“I’m not that old, ya fuckin’ tard.” Taft grimaced. “It’s only been a few months for me.”
“Same…” Sheba nodded.
The others sitting beside us all agreed as well. Each of them had only arrived a few months ago, or earlier. So as I did the mental math, I began to realize that nobody here had been here long enough to even know when or how long this war had been chugging along. As I continued to think upon it, I felt something in my mouth after my last spoon full of chow, and plucked out a small bone I’d been chewing on. It had the slender size enough to be female in origin, but could have easily been from something else entirely. I chucked it over my shoulder and eyed the group waiting for me to speak.
“Well, shit… I guess we’re all doomed to die here regardless. Nobody’s been here for years it seems. Just a few months and then…” I made a slashing motion of my thumb to my throat.
The group seemed to agree with that. But, Sheba, she seemed to be the only one to disagree.
“Naw, I wouldn’t say so. There’s been one guy…”
“Shut the fuck up, Sheba!” Taft scowled at her. “We don’t ever talk about him.”
“Him?” I cocked a brow. “Him who?”
“Nothing…” Taft grumbled.
Sheba slapped her hand to the table firmly.
“He’s got to know about the legend. Everyone here knows about him. Stop being such a stuck up racist bastard!”
Before Taft could utter an insult back, I turned to her and held up my hand to fend him off.
“What legend? What are you on about? I just arrived, I don’t know what you two are bitching about.”
Taft and Sheba glared at one another for moment. You could almost see the conversation they were having, if they had telepathy, that is. Taft conceded and averted his gaze. Sheba turned back to me and explained.
“There’s a guy out there. A big black dude… The Demon, that’s what most call him. He likes to paint his face white in the ashes of the alien’s burnt carcasses and stalk them a night.”
“That’s just bullshit rumours…” Taft scoffed.
“But, some have seen him from time to time.” Sheba continued on, ignoring Taft’s glib comment. “They say he’s hunting for the main nest, a place where these creatures reside. He’s been trying for years to get close, and he’s the only one that’s survived this long without being slayed by those beings.”
“The Demon…” I stated, as if I need to burn that name into my memory. “He’s been here for years, the only one, right? How long? Doesn’t anyone know?”
“No,” Taft sighed. “He’s been here well before any of us, something tells me he’ll be here after we’re gone too. Lucky nig…”
“Shut it!” Sheba cut him off before he completed that insult.
Sheba was probably more sensitive to his racist comments. She seemed to be of that variety of skin colour. Maybe not a fully black woman, but with some heritage, along those lines. I didn’t care. Black, white, yellow, green, red… fuck, it’s all the same to me. She was looking pretty good though. I did start to have some thoughts about pinning her to the ground and shoving my cock up her tight ass. Meh, maybe later…
“So where is this Demon now?” I said, trying to remove the mental image of me raping her over and over. “Is he… close by?”
“Don’t know.” She shrugged. “Last anyone say him with ten weeks ago. He was out by the wastelands. That way,” She pointed behind. “Two miles out, that’s where we dump some of the bodies. The cannibals like to live out there, feasting on their flesh.”
“Aw, shit…” I recoiled in disgust. “There’s more of them?”
“Yeah,” Taft smirked. “Tons of them, they like to harvest and stay wild out there. Can’t say how many, really… they like to breed and fuck the corpses out there. So… could be lots, could be just a handful now… nobody knows. But,” He paused raising a finger up. “Anyone that has gone near there, hasn’t really… uh… come back… or at least, with all parts accounted for.”
He raised his other hand, and that’s when I noticed the missing two end fingers.
“Bastards are rather quick. I’ll give them that much.”
I looked down at my meal. The large lumps of whatever swimming in the grey-ish broth. Then I glanced up at the cook. Who turned to see me and smiled back. He had sharpened teeth, like a piranha, and licked them slowly our eyes locked on one another.
“I think I’ll take my chances taking a shit at the outhouse.”
Sheba and Taft snickered at my comment. He nodded at me and handed me his gun.
“Whatever you do, don’t piss out the glory hole on the back of it. Let’s just say… these aren’t exactly meatballs, most of the time.”
I quickly glanced back the cook, now gone from his post. I took Taft’s gun and made sure the weapon was charged. This should be interesting—indeed.