ALIEN PLATEAU

Title: ALIEN PLATEAU
Author: batmouse
Genre: post-slash?
Pairing: R/M (No! not her! I mean Roxton / Malone!)
Rating: Violence? Romantic longing?
Summary: Malone runs into something that’s best left not run into!
Archive: Whazzat? A hive for arch-bees? Just joking! Go ahead, I don’t mind! Just let me know if you use the story somewhere, ‘kay?
Email: batmoused1st@yahoo.com
Series: No, well . . . kinda . . . maybe.
Notes: Notes for what? Passing in class?
Web Page URL: Still dunno what that is.
Disclaimer: Do you really believe I’d be able town somethin’ this cool?
Warnings: After violence, emotional longing for one man by another man. Not disturbing to me, but there are some undeveloped brains out there that it really freaks out. If wanting love is too foreign a subject for you, go away.

~~~oO0Oo~~~
ALIEN PLATEAU
by batmouse
~~~oO0Oo~~~

He'd been following the Honker for several hours now and in spite of how fast he was traveling, seemed no closer to catching up to the wounded beast than when it was first injured. Which had been just after sunrise. He'd gone hunting with a few warriors of a friendly tribe to hunt something special for the celebration feast for the birth of a grandson to the tribal chief. The creature they were after was called a Honker, one of those strangely crested duck-billed dinosaurs that roamed about in herds, eating tons of moss and ferns.

Okay, Honker is what he called the dinosaur. The natives called it K'Bah or its English translation: ‘Caller.'

At any rate, the Honker had been wounded by an ill-thrown spear, after which it had run for its life, hollering and screaming like someone was trying to kill it. Even wounded, it was fast and had left the small hunting party far behind. Luckily, it had run off in a direction away from its herd, leaving a bright red trail of dino-blood behind it. As if it’s big splayed clubbed paw tracks were difficult. A survival instinct, rushing off like that, that most of the plant-eating dinosaurs had developed. One of the herd gets taken down by a predator, the rest of the herd escapes, while the wounded beast carries on, drawing the hunter(s) after it.

Still, with all the carnivores around, it wasn't a sure thing that any of the hunters or Malone would get to the beast before it died of its wound, or some other meat-eater would hear it and claim it for its own. It could be a long painful and grisly death.

That would be inhumane.

The group tracked it farther than they'd thought it could go, pausing only for a long discussion before moving into forbidden territory that none dared enter. At last, the frightened natives turned back, urging him to return to the village with them, but he'd refused. Finally, they left him to push on alone.

They'd told him that the region he was going into was cursed. Weird-ling spirit-demons dwelt in that beautiful, but deadly land. Spirit-demons that chased you down, caught you, bound you and impregnated you with their evil kind or slaughtered you like so much meat to be wasted. They didn't eat you, they just tore your body to shreds and left it to rot.

Those the Spirit-demons killed were said to be the lucky ones. Those that lived, did so for only a short time, not knowing that they carried a demon-seed inside their bodies. The carrier thought themselves lucky, having escaped the Spirit-demons. At least, until the demon-seed awoke. The carrier felt a wrongness, then something moving within them. At first, it was just an uncomfortable feeling, then came the pain. Inside their bodies, their chests, as the demon-seed fought its way free of the carrier's body, tearing, clawing, bursting free, exploding its way out . . . escaping through the chest, splattering blood and bone as it sought toward freedom.

Nobody survived the demon-seed's gory birth.

Still, he pushed on, alone, in spite of his better judgment. He was going to kill that big honking Honker, even if it was the last thing he did! Spirit-demons or no Spirit-demons.

He stopped . . .

Something wasn't right . . .

Silence . . .

His heart nearly exploded out of his chest, when a terror-stricken cry blasted the afternoon air and the wounded Honker broke from a cluster of bushes and fled, honking with every thundering step.

Damn Honker. It startled him the hell out of him! Well, since he'd sworn to get some of that delicious Honker meat, he took off after the dang-blasted dinosaur, passing by the bushes where the vegetarian-saurian had been hiding.

He smelled something.

He paused, then crept closer.

"What in the name of . . . ?" He whispered to himself, when he looked into the bushes, "What the . . . ?"

Whatever it was, it looked like a mid-thigh tall fleshy egg. He would've thought cabbage, but the leaves looked thick . . . but, fleshy, like . . . like that of a T-Rex. It stood on its more rounded end, the `top' part was opened like a blossomed flower, revealing smooth pinkish insides. He sniffed, then wrinkled his nose, taking a step back. The flesh-egg smelled like old meat . . . left to rot in the sun.

Whatever it was, it had to be dead. It smelled like it.

He started to continue after the Honker, when his boot scuffed against something. He swore and leaped back. It looked like a . . . a giant pink spider! With a long bony tail! He recalled the tails of those dinosaurs he'd seen back in the London Museum . . . that's what the bony tail reminded him of . . . except, this thing had tight pink flesh stretched and shrunk over it. The longer he looked at it, the more he thought that it looked like a pair of hands, connected at the base to a spine that became a long boney tail.

There was no meat on the spider-hand creature.

Nor did it have a head.

It was dead, at any rate.

What the hell was it?

Nothing he'd ever seen before, that's for sure. But, ugly as sin. He shuddered.

At last, he moved on, taking one last look at the thing and the giant flesh egg.

~~~o0O0o~~~

The Honker had run as if it hadn't been wounded, but at last the adrenaline was wearing off and the dinosaur was tiring out. He knew he'd catch up to it soon enough. But, he'd have to be quick about it. Considering how far he'd traveled, he knew he wouldn't be able to take very much meat back with him, if any at all. Besides, the smell of the fresh blood would attract all the carnivores that called the plateau home.

He paused.

Why aren’t there any meat-eaters around?

Surely, the scent of fresh blood should've attracted them long ago.

Where the hell were they?

And, all that frightened honking . . .

~~~o0O0o~~~

The Honker stumbled into the small clearing. Exhausted, it had run a long time in its terror. And . . . now, it knew that something was wrong.

It felt . . . heavy . . . inside . . .

Panic!

Something was going to happen!

It froze . . .

Something was moving . . .

Raptors . . . pack hunters, emerged from the forest. They had the Honker surrounded. Trapped.

The Honker was easy prey. It was wounded . . .

But . . . different.

Something was different about this one . . .

No matter, it would still be good eating.

About to attack, they paused.

The Honker started to shake. Convulsing.

The raptors backed up a bit. Confused.

The Honker coughed up a great gout of blood. It shook and shuddered violently. It rose up on its hind legs, balancing with its tail, like a tripod. A horrible choking screaming roar tore from its throat and its green eyes rolled wildly in their sockets. The cry startled the pack hunters, as the Honker dropped heavily to its knees . . .

~~~o0O0o~~~

From the staggered uneven tracks, he knew he'd find the Honker soon. It would either be exhausted or dead from its wound and blood loss. Up ahead, he could see what he was sure was a clearing . . .

Yup, it was, there was the Honker.

He broke through the last of the underbrush and stopped short, staring before him. There was the Honker, but what he could see of it something had already gotten to it. It was lying strangely splayed out . . . in a great splash of blood. It was . . . dead.

Around its corpse were the torn and dismembered body parts of other dinosa . . .

Wait. I recognize those chunks of meat . . .

There were at least four different raptors laying spread about . . . or parts of them. They weren't cut, sliced or chopped up, but were torn to shreds, by something stronger and more savage than a pack of hunting raptors, the most fearsome predators on the plateau.

But . . . what could've done that to a healthy hunting pack? Could they have fought and killed each other over the Honker carcass? But, that didn't make sense. Raptors had a pecking order. They were led by a big female . . .

Who . . . what had killed the raptors?

His senses went on alert.

Silence.

Frozen with fear . . .

The jungle felt still.

He glanced around, then carefully began to back up, into the surrounding jungle. He needed to make it to cover, if he was going have a chance of escaping whatever had killed the . . .

He nearly leaped out of his skin, when a roar and a scream tore the air, A bloodied and injured raptor staggered into the clearing. It looked ready to drop. Its sides were clawed, bleeding from the neck . . . . and one of its forearms was just a bloody stump.

Exhausted, it looked like it had been trying to escape somethi . . . A shriek that called to mind the sound of tortured metal tearing broke the air . . . and something big and hideous sprang from the jungle. Its hide was shiny and black, like that of a beetle or a black widow and it looked like its body was made of bones. Its eyeless head was elongated. Smooth on top with rib-like ridges running along the back of its head's underside and its mouth was filled with rows of sharp needle teeth. From its back were six long growths that looked like pipes. Three on each side as if they were stunted wing growths.

How could something so . . . so . . . boney live?

How did it see?

Could it see?

Apparent, even to him, it was quick and deadly. Whatever it was, it was a killing machine of the first order. He couldn't see that . . . creature (?) . . . bone-dinosaur (?) knowing what mercy was.

With a leap as graceful as a gazelle, yet as deadly as a falling executioner's axe, the bone-dinosaur was on the raptor's back. The raptor shrieked in pain as a set of six digit claws raked it along its sides. Two more raptors sprang into the clearing, one catching the bone-dinosaur's armored forearm in its powerful jaws as the creature prepared to strike the wounded female again. With a loud crunch and a twist, the raptor tore the limb from the monstrosity . . . and both screamed in pain!

The bone-dinosaur over the loss of a limb and the raptor as the creature's greenish blood, like a powerful acid, began eating away its jaws and head. The raptor died a horrible death, while the bone-dinosaur turned back to the big female it had pinned.

It opened its mouth and seemed to hiss . . . then, another mouth (?) . . . set of teeth (?) dripping clear saliva like pouring water moved slowly out if its primary mouth. A sudden quick movement, like the striking of a cobra, the extra set of teeth struck, with bone crushing force, punching into the base of the raptor's skull. Brain and blood spattered and the female died.

The last raptor, a slightly smaller female, spun and fled. The last of her pack, she had to survive and to do that, she had to escape.

The creature leapt from the shuddering corpse and vanished into the surrounding jungle after the last raptor. Intent on killing the last female.

As if he were a puppet with its strings cut, he stumbled backwards and fell. He quickly scrambled to his feet and headed back the way he'd come in a flat out run for life.

Somewhere behind him he heard the raptor's death cry. It sounded ugly . . . and something told him that the ugly eyeless bone-dinosaur was coming after him!

Plants, branches and twigs tore at his flesh and clothing in his mad flight to get away. For a time all he could hear was the sound of his boots hitting the ground as he ran and the labored breathing as air flooded his lungs and escaped in harsh breaths was loud to his ears..

Then, he heard it. Running through the jungle behind him, off to one side, then the other.

Its speed was incredible . . . unless, there was more than one . . .

No! He refused to think that thought!

He skidded to a fall, landing on his backside.

Somewhere ahead of him, came its nerve killing shriek.

No. it couldn't be.

He jumped to his feet and took off running in another direction.

He screamed . . . it was looming in his path!

He ran, tearing his clothes further on branches and bushes.

From out of nowhere, it slashed at him.

His flesh stung from the claws.

What was left of his shirt, hung in tatters from his shoulders. A pants leg was missing and the other was torn open, revealing him thigh to the hip.

He stopped. Hiding. Where was it? It had killed those raptors quick and easy. Why not him? Was it playing with him?

How did it . . . where did it come from?

Where was it . . . ?

Hssssssssssssss . . .

Eyes wide, he looked over his shoulder . . . and there it was, its head slowly entering the bushes where he was hiding! He took off, most of his pants and what was left of his shirt dangling from the bone-dinosaur's strangely elongated fore claws . . .

He ran hard and fast. His lungs burned and his body felt like lead . . .

Woops! Almost went over that cliff!

The fall wouldn't hurt, but he'd scream all the way down until the sudden stop at the bottom ended his worries. With all those jagged rocks at the cliff base, he knew he wouldn't feel the impact, let alone survive.

This way!

He took off. As he ran, he found that the creature wasn't chasing him, but was just following along! It hissed or made noises or threatened him if he didn't step lively enough.

A chill crept through him. He was being herded. Most likely into a trap. To his death. But, what scared him the most, was thinking that the bone-dinosaur had a purpose for him, other than a quick death.

Could the bone-dinosaur be . . . intelligent? That thought alone chilled him . . . to the bone . . . That wasn't funny.

He stopped.

In a small clearing was a collection of those . . . those giant meat eggs.

The creature behind him hissed.

He took a step.

The meat eggs smelled like . . .

One of them opened . . .

Blossomed . . .

He stopped.

The creature hissed . . .

He didn't move . . .

The creature hissed again . . .

It was closer.

Pink boney fingers began to move inside the meat egg. Trying to climb out . . .

He still didn't move . . .

Yet, he knew to stay where he was, was to die . . .

He was suddenly aware of something . . . but, he didn't know what it was. Something was going on . . . something was happening . . . something was trying to tell him . . . something . . .

Suddenly, he knew!

He heard it.

His brain . . . his instincts were telling him to move and move now!

He ducked and ran through the clearing, not realizing that the slurping whooshing crack of the whip sound that had passed over his head had been one of those pink spider-things. It had flown over his head, only to end up wrapping its long boney tail around a tree, anchoring it there! Its long boney fingers (?) . . . spidery legs (?) had clutched the tree trunk in a death grip. He didn't know it, but that spider-thing's target had been him, he didn't know that the tree could've been his head! Until he took a glance back and saw the spider-thing hugging the tree trunk making slurping sounds.

He took off again. He ran, bobbing and weaving his way through the egg forest to emerge on the other side. And with a weird-ling cry, the bone-dinosaur was on his trail. He could hear it catching up to him. He got a sudden flash of an idea. It was mad. Insane. Before he could think about what he was going to do, he spun and circled back around and headed for the meat-egg nesting area, the bone-dinosaur hissing and angry on his trail. He hoped that it didn't have brain enough to figure out what he was doing!

He came to a skidding stop in the center of the cache of eggs and stood unmoving. A couple of eggs opened up and long spidery fingers began to move about inside the egg. He heard the bone-dinosaur behind him. Stalking him. Closing in for the kill. He felt his heart pounding loud and hard. Either the spider-things would get him or the bone-dinosaur would.

He took off, just as the spider-things leaped and the bone-dinosaur charged!

The spider-things had launched themselves into the air, missing their intended target, but clamped themselves onto another. As one, they fought to reach the bone-dinosaur's face and mouth, while the creature flipped and twisted about the clearing, slashing and grabbing, trying to escape the spider-things. All the while, destroying meat eggs in their battle for supremacy!

He could hear the ruckus that the bone-dinosaur was making as it battled the spider-things. Obviously it had some issues with the spider-things. But, at that point, he didn't care, he only knew that the longer the battle went on, the more time it gave him to escape.

And, he was going to escape!

He was sure he made it! He was free! He'd escaped the bone-dinosaur!

He got awa . . .

Then, he heard it.

The heavy smooth sound of a running beast . . .

It was closing in on him!

He could hear it getting closer!

The heavy tread of its clawed feet . . .

Oh, shit! I’ve gone the wrong way!

The thunder of an enraged hiss . . .

It was behind him . . .

He'd forgotten about the . . .

It wasn't close, but it was coming fast.

Dammit!

His hand hooked around a small tree to stop himself from going over the cliff!

Damn! Damn! Damn!

He was breathing hard.

He looked back at the forest.

He could hear it coming!

So, this was how I die! He thought.

It was getting closer!

He didn't want to die . . .

Here it comes!

Oh . . . shhhhhhiiit! ! ! ! !

Without a thought, he turned from the cliff and charged toward the sound of the bone-dinosaur's approach.

He was really desperate.

He'd barely gotten two steps before it broke into the cliff side clearing.

If he was going to die . . .

He wasn't going to be on his . . .

His foot slipped!

The creature leaped at him . . .

He fell backwards, his booted-feet arcing skyward . . .

He knew he was going to die . . .

The creature hissed triumphantly as it sailed toward its falling victim.

He knew he was going to die for real!

It emitted a startled grunt as its body met its prey's feet.

The momentum of the creature's leap and its weight sent a jarring jolt up his legs as his up raised boots met the hard surface of the creature's boney chest.

The bone-dinosaur's secondary mouth shot out of its primary mouth and snapped at him, trying to bite his face as it arced over him.

Foul saliva splashed onto him.

The speed of its leap, connecting with the smaller creature's booted feet had deflected the bone-dinosaur's flight.

Startled by the sudden blow to its chest and its quick change in direction, the creature let loose a cry of anger.

The human grunted from the impact and the force of the creature's momentum flipped him over on his stomach. Startled, he turned to look . . . to see where the creature was . . .

Where'd it go?

Then came the sound of a boney-meaty something slamming into unforgiving rock. He scrambled to the cliff's edge and peered over the edge . . . and began laughing in near hysterical relief, then . . .

"Eeeugh!" He wrinkled his nose at the sight of the ruined body of the bone-dinosaur lying in the center of a great splash of putrid smoking bile. His stomach roiled as realization came. The greenish-blackness splashed from the bone-creature's body was its blood and it was smoking! It smelled acidic . . .

He felt a new unexplainable fear crawl over his scalp and down his spine. It made his hair stand on end . . .

Was . . . was . . . the bone-dinosaur . . . . moving?

But . . . it was dead!

Its body smashed and shattered against the jagged rocks . . .

Wait . . . wait . . . it was moving!

Aw, come on! That’s not fair!

Oh, God! It was . . .

Huh?

It was sinking into the earth . . . almost like its blood were eating away the very ground it lay on! Almost like its blood was acid.

"Dear, God! What hell was that thing!?!" Suddenly not caring, he scrambled backwards, away from the cliff's edge. All he wanted to do now was get away from . . . wherever he was . . . but he was so tired . . .

Suddenly feeling heavy, like his veins were filled with lead, he didn't have the strength to get up. To get to his feet and get away . . .

His chest hurt . . . and burned . . . from all that running he'd done.

The bone-creature was dead. He was safe. He was alive. He was . . . so, so tired . . .

He collapsed face down, not ten feet way from the cliff's edge.

Breathing hard and exhausted, he felt himself losing consciousness as his body started shutting down to heal itself . . . Everything was starting to darken around him as he . . .

~~~o0O0o~~~

"Malone!?!" Roxton's voice pulled him back to consciousness. He heard the sound of booted feet coming closer. The sound of a rifle being lain down beside him . . . Then Roxton's strong hands lifting him. Turning him over. Embracing him. Holding the blonde man to his chest.

The smell of Roxton's sweat. The scorch of heated flesh on his. The feel of lips kissing his cheek. The rasp of unshaven cheek on his . . .

Tears fell freely from Malone's eyes, as Roxton held him. Comforted him. Whispered sweet nothings to him. How he missed their times together. Their secret times, when they shared their bodies, their feelings, the warmth and hardness of their bodies. The times that ended when Marguerite had threatened to expose the two men, if Malone didn't break it off. And Malone had. He'd left behind a note, telling truths and needs, but not the real truths and the real needs . . .

And now, here Roxton was, holding him. Loving him. Telling him of how he'd gotten the truth out of Marguerite and had come for him . . .

~~~o0O0o~~~

Malone cried for real.

His hands clutching the grass under him, not bothering to look up.

To see if he were still lying face down beside the cliff . . .

He was just getting tired of that damned dream . . .

Of Lord John Roxton abandoning all to come after him. To come after him and take him home. But, he knew that that would never happen.

Even though the two men loved each other, they had society to face and society just didn't give a damn about two men who loved each other . . . As long as they ignored their feelings and got married and raised a family and . . . dammit all!

Malone forced himself to get up and move on, wishing that the bone-dinosaur had gotten him. Ended his pain once and for all. But, he couldn't do that. He couldn't die. Not yet. Something told him that he had something to do before his end came. Before he could rest from his sore and aching heart.

On his feet, Malone moved off into the gathering evening.

He had to find his gun if he was to survive . . .

Not knowing he was being watched . . . by something not of the plateau . . .


end?