The Nature of Predators - Becoming a Predator (2/10) (Patreon)

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CW: mention of suicide

Memory transcription subject: Narlem, Krakotl Exterminator Fleet Comms Technician

Date [standardized human time]: October 1, 2136

My skull, which was heavy as a stone, crashed back against the pillow while I screamed to my heart’s content. The ear-piercing noise continued until I felt physical pain in my vocal cords, and my voice had run itself ragged. Exhausted, I buried my face in my forsaken hands. This was the worst situation imaginable; like I’d said yesterday, I’d rather be dead than a blood-craving human. A dull ache was setting into my temples from the stress, which reminded me that I needed to calm down and think. How on Nishtal could this have happened to me? It was too authentic and detailed to be a nightmare, plus I was more lucid than I could be in a dream state. That predator…Gavin’s wish must’ve been received by a wicked deity like Maltos.

“No, no, no!” The words that tumbled from my throat were strange and unfamiliar, yet there was no Krakotl speech left in my memory banks to salvage. The human register I spoke in was booming, yet hoarse after that screaming bout; my own speech sounded threatening to my ears. “How do I…understand these words at all? This doesn’t make any sense!”

If I had been devolved into a filthy Terran, that meant I needed to get an immediate read on my surroundings. Earth was a perilous, predator-infested shithole, where creatures from the species I was stuck as murdered each other left and right. My first goal had to be scouting this dwelling for potential threats, or other primates who lived with this beast I’d been transposed with. I scanned the apartment, having to utilize jerky pupil motions for the slightest shift in focus. There was no trace of any being who could kill me on a whim, mercifully; I couldn’t interact with actual humans. The flat was a few hundred feet at most, with a bed and a cramped living area.

The next step was to come to terms with how hideous my appearance was, and that meant I needed to find a mirror. I resigned myself to head to the adjacent bathroom, though it wasn’t clear if Terrans wanted to look at their own reflection. I slung my weighty legs out of the bed, gulping at the gargantuan task of trying to walk on these lanky slabs. Both feet pressed against the wooden floor, and my chest burned from an elevated heart rate. I transitioned my weight onto my limbs, before attempting to walk toward the water closet. The rotund heel of my foot planted against the floor, before the ankle rolled to the side. Pain shot up the sensitive tendons, and I crashed to the ground in a heap. Curses I didn’t recognize spewed from my lips.

“Fuck! Okay, Narlem. Try again.” I tested weight on the tender ankle, and wobbled as I tried to stand. The creature was too tall to balance like a Krakotl; as I lifted the injured leg off the ground to walk, I tripped over my clunky feet on the landing, faceplanting. “Ugh. For a killing machine, its body is awkward. How do they chase prey?”

I dusted myself off with a dispirited sigh, spreading my legs far apart and bending my knees to ensure I couldn’t fall. This stance allowed me to move forward with microscopic shuffles, until a mirror was visible in front of a bathroom sink. I positioned this abhorrent form facing the reflective surface, and looked into an evil visage that didn’t fit my internal nature. The creature had brown skin similar to a Farsul’s fur color, but it was the sight of “my” own eyes leveled at me that drew a horrified yelp from my tortured, dry throat. Primal terror left my muscles trembling, my breathing quick but shallow, and my palms warm with slimy secretions. The monster in the mirror’s pupils dilated, and dizziness compounded my existing symptoms.

Avert your eyes. This sanity-draining fiend can’t be me!

I collapsed to the floor, panting, and pawed at my throat. Knowing I couldn’t look in the mirror again, and dwell on how there was no getting away from a demon that was me, I crawled on all fours; it was much easier and more intuitive to move this way. My mind raced from powerful chemicals that had flooded my system, rendering it difficult to concentrate on anything else but my savage appearance. As logical thoughts became gradually accessible, a startling realization occurred to me. Humans had a chemical reaction for fear, so it wasn’t just my recollection of Krakotl sentiments.

“That’s a good starting point!” I encouraged myself aloud, cringing at the sound of my voice. “Test which emotions you can still feel. It’ll help to know which ones to simulate to…retain empathy.”

There were a few that were easy to skip, since humans obviously possessed them: anger and hatred being the main two. The primary way I could think to test pity and disgust levels was by meditating on the most gruesome Arxur briefings. It was worrying what inclinations I might stir up, but it was better to know now. I brought up images of prey species being ripped apart, and was relieved not to be flooded with happy chemicals. The memories were still aversive to me, though that could be because I, a Krakotl, viewed it in a negative light. There was no telling how seeing suffering in person could tease my bloodthirsty senses.

The bloodlust wasn’t a constant drive in the predator’s mind like I expected, but this creature must be well-sated. I was very lucky to have retained my persona and thoughts, rather than lose them to mindless instincts. Perhaps it was possible to hold fast to my civilized values, and resist the temptation through a Krakotl’s distaste for suffering…the question was for how long. What happened at mealtime? My eyes shot to the flat depression that was my stomach with disgust, realizing that it felt a little empty. I should not think about that. I wasn’t going to feed its vile desires now; surely I believed in Inatala enough to avoid succumbing for a few days.

“I have to find a way out. The hungrier this thing gets, the less I’ll be able to control its instincts,” I mumbled. “Shit, if I’m hungry, what happens to the first animal I see? I’m not used to or prepared for the instincts that’ll stir.”

I shuddered; it would be horrific to snap back to lucidity with my teeth in a dead creature’s throat. That also reminded me that the other humans on this world would be engaging in such behavior, because that was a normal method of survival to them. My predicament, beyond the ticking time-bomb that was my increasing appetite, was blending in with these monstrous predators. Sentimentality, visible fear, or any other failure to prove my strength would cause the locals to notice something was amiss. There would be no undoing this disaster if I was culled for empathy. It was crucial that I crafted a strategy to act like them, without compromising my most sacred values.

Basic functionality would be necessary to convince anyone I was an able-bodied hunter. Learning to walk would enable me to traverse my lair; hopefully, I could be prowling around the apartment in a single afternoon. Dusting myself off, it took minutes practicing how to balance through primate bipedalism. Figuring out that extending my arms like wings helped, allowing me to take a few wobbly steps forward. After a few minutes, I was zipping around with the occasional stumble. The more my brain was taken out of the picture, the better I could walk. The human’s muscle memory kicked into place, and even arms-down locomotion became second nature to me inside of an hour.

It’s terrifying how easily I can get used to being a predator. I guess I needed to, but still. Time to tour the apartment objects, and see if I can figure out why I was placed in this Terran’s body.

I strolled back to the bed, which had a human-sized indentation on it. My gaze was drawn to an empty bottle on the nightstand, which seemed to be for pills, judging by others like it with tablets inside. My hand grabbed the container, pulling it toward my eye so I could attempt to read the label. I wasn’t sure whether reading the predators’ lexicon of harsh scribbles would be possible, but the meaning jumped into my brain as if it were in Krakotl. These were sleeping pills that were picked up yesterday, and yet the bottle was completely empty. The bushy strips of hair over my binocular eyes furrowed, as I found a folded up note behind the empty bottle.

“To Caleb, who I know will find this. I’m sorry,” I read the untidy scribbles with disdain. “This was the only way I could be sure this would be the end, and not leave a mess for you to clean up. Try to understand my decision…and know it wasn’t your fault. The truth is, the world is better off without me, and I can’t live with the knowledge of my own inadequacy and selfishness. Whatever waits after my last breaths on Earth, I know I’ll be happier there than I was here.

Your loving brother,

Nathan.”

My eyes widened with surprise, uncertain how to react to this revelation. Even the predator whose form I inhabited hadn’t wanted this identity? I could sympathize with that, though I hoped I wouldn’t be trapped here long enough to resign to suicide. Then again, its reference to inadequacy was more likely recognition that it would be put down for its weakness—of course I couldn’t get a strong predator’s form. How was I supposed to survive here for any length of time, or hold my own in combat? My physical awareness would have to extend to unseemly areas I didn’t want to look into.

I placed the note back on the nightstand, uncertain what I was supposed to do with that shred of knowledge. So far, I’d already learned much more about a human’s inner workings and feelings than I ever would’ve wanted to. It would’ve been better if Nathan had succeeded in its quest to terminate its unholy mortal coil, rather than passing the torment of its self-serving desires onto me. Inatala, didn’t I understand enough of what it was like to be human for Gavin’s wish to be fulfilled? All I wanted was to go back to being a Krakotl, capable of love and decency.

I heaved a weary sigh. “Maybe, by seeing what it’s like to really be human, Gavin was hoping for me to grasp how miserable their lives are. Hello, universe? I get it.”

There was no reply from the heavens, just the continuing pain of my overused vocal cords. I missed my voice box, which could craft much more complex and pleasing sounds. I found an open bottle of water on the nightstand; outside of the current circumstances, I would’ve never put a surface blanketed in predator saliva inside my mouth. However, it wasn’t like flesh remnants weren’t already sloshing around behind this beast’s lips. That thought triggered a gag reflex, and I forced myself to swallow rather than spit the droplets out. Existence was revolting, thinking about how defiled every part of my body was.

I gulped down the water, trying not to think; it eased the parched pain. Why did I deserve to have to tend to a beast’s welfare, just to keep my soul alive? It was tempting to stuff a pillow over my head, and pretend that I was still back on my ship celebrating this planet’s eradication. What would my father think, if he saw what his son had come to? The thought of any prey sapient seeing me in this form snapped me out of my self-pity. A growling hum rumbled in my throat, as I considered how I could research Earth’s customs. By attempting to live like them, no matter how much I had to degrade myself, perhaps that would complete the terms of my punishment.

There’s a holopad over there. Hopefully it unlocks by facial recognition, so I can try to browse their violence-ridden internet and acquire information.

I grabbed Nathan’s holopad off the floor, and was impressed with myself for crouching like a natural Terran. This item could be the key to my success, deceiving the deceivers into believing I was like them. However, the device refused to turn on when my squishy fingertip mashed against the power button; I deduced that it required charging, and looked for a docking station. There should’ve been plenty of time to research how to be a predator, yet before I could work on reviving the electronic device, something pounded against my door.

What if the oppressive government was here to order me on a hunting patrol? What if it was a fellow beast that Nathan had challenged to a contest of dominance, and this was why it decided it was inadequate against its peers? I wished I’d looked harder for those weapons. Dive-bombing wasn’t possible in this form. My eyes surveyed my wiggly fingers, judging how easy it would be to strangle a Terran that was fighting back. I didn’t have a better idea, but as a predator, I couldn’t not defend my territory. Not answering the door wasn’t an option.

Bracing myself for a confrontation, I felt the human’s overused chemical instincts kicking into gear again. I drew a shuddering breath, creeping toward the door on certain feet. My hands wrapped around the handle to fling it open, before raising open-palmed in a defensive gesture. A predator with a similar skin tone to me was checking its holopad as it waited, but its head snapped up after a few seconds. Its horrific eyes froze my bravado in its tracks; it was foolish to think I could fight back, while harboring a Krakotl mind. The creature, however, hadn’t lunged at me. It looked more befuddled than hostile.

“Were you expecting someone else…?” the stranger prompted. “You haven’t forgotten your weekly coffee run with your brother, have you?”

“Um…no?” My pupils darted across the waiting human’s form with uncertainty, before it clicked with something I’d read in the suicide note. Oh no. It’s going to figure out in no time I’m not Nathan. “Caleb?”

“Yeah, that is my name. Let’s get going, before the lunch time rush. Hurry up.”

“I’m ready. Lead the way.”

The Terran bared its teeth, chuckling. “Put some fucking clothes on, Nate. No one wants to see you strutting around in your boxers.”

Caleb seemed to be referring to the fabric covering a region of my body I was more than happy was out of sight, left to the imagination. It seemed to be wearing more pelts than me to conceal its furless shape, though I had no idea where predators would store such things or how to use them. My “brother” narrowed its eyes, and pushed its way inside my lair. It grumbled some complaint about me needing it to dress me, before shoving two cloth pieces at me that it pulled from a drawer. I held the first one up, studying it; Caleb’s eye whites showed, as its pupils rolled back in its head.

Not wanting to earn the predator’s derision, I gauged from its attire that the largest hole was how I put it on, while the others were for my head and arms. I tugged the chest garment over my broad shoulders awkwardly, and struggled to wiggle my arms up into the sleeves. It felt like the neckline was pressed against my throat. The second item proved more difficult to figure out; was I supposed to hop both my legs into it? Caleb gawked as I tried to jump into it, while holding it upright. Curses spewed from my mouth, as I crashed onto the floor.

“Your shirt is backwards, but that seems to be the least of your problems,” the human muttered. “What is wrong with you?”

I grunted in pain, flipping the shirt around on my chest. “There, better? I’ve got this under control. It’s as easy as putting on a spacesuit.”

Krakotl spacesuits opened from the back to accommodate us, and were closed by pulling a latch on the inside. I decided to stay parked on my rump, bringing each leg compartment over my feet. It took several tugs and shifting my weight around with strained contortions, but I got the garment up to my waist. The two flaps needed to be sealed together, though buttoning the halves together proved easy with human fingers. How the fuck did Terrans get used to wearing all of this garb throughout their daily lives? I was relieved that I’d managed to get that requisite done, even though the hardest part was venturing off for a “coffee run” with Caleb.

What type of animal is coffee?

Caleb inspected me from head to toe. “Dude, zip your fly.”

“My what?” I asked.

The human blinked with exasperation. “The metal cord below the button, you know, by your junk? Pull it up, dipshit.”

I heeded its instructions, hoping that I was sufficiently buried in pelts now to pass its scrutiny. The sooner we could complete whatever vicious task it had in mind, the sooner I could return to hiding and studying my enemy here. It shook its head, before ordering me to put two shells over my feet. Though it was difficult to understand emotional displays in humans, Caleb looked somewhat worried by my behavior. That meant it didn’t wish to harm me, which was reassuring for my immediate safety. However, if it believed there was cause for concern, that meant other humans could start questioning my value to their domineering society.

While we were out on this excursion, I needed to act tough and emotionless, despite how jarring it was to be this close to a predator. Mirroring Caleb’s behavior could be the difference between life and death on Earth; I intended to survive long enough to be restored to my proper state of being.

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A/N - Part 2! Narlem runs through panic and disgust, while trying to learn the total basics of being human, from walking to looking around. Our former Krakotl is terrified to be trapped on Earth, and worried about bloodthirsty instincts kicking in; he tries to test his emotions. He does find a dark note from "Nathan", showing that he has the ability to speak and write in human words, just in time to learn his brother Caleb's name.

How do you expect Caleb to handle Narlem...and what will Narlem do to "mirror human behavior" out in the world? After seeing "Nathan" unable to dress himself, what do you imagine Caleb is thinking?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!