The Nature of Predators - Becoming a Predator (7/10) (Patreon)

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Memory transcription subject: Narlem, Krakotl Exterminator Fleet Comms Technician

Date [standardized human time]: October 3, 2136

Even if a shower made my physical form feel less disgusting, by cleansing sweat residue and grease from my skin, it couldn’t wash away how revolting I felt inside. The fact was that animal entrails were being digested in my stomach now, which had quieted its complaints after the horrid food reached it. I was a full predator just like these humans were, and nothing could clean my conscience. Minutes were spent scrubbing my sharp teeth with the toothbrush, attempting to wash every trace of meat from my mouth; I pulled my lips out with my fingers to inspect my gums, making sure all of the evidence was gone.

Despite my self-loathing, I had been so exhausted when I collapsed in the bed that I drifted off at once. The deep slumber was wondrous, stripping me of the weight of both my sins and my lumbering body. When I awoke, the newly-settled night sky from the window had been replaced by dawn sunlight. There was a faint note of disappointment as I yawned, still feeling human limbs when I stretched. Wasn’t Caleb supposed to wake me up when the “Texan chili” was ready? Part of me was worried that someone had attacked my brother while I snoozed, and that I’d find his body out in the kitchen.

I rushed through my necessary functions after a long rest; the gluttonous stomach of a human, with monstrous nutritional needs akin to a Mazic, was already empty and growling again. My feet took cautious steps back out to the living area, where I found Caleb sipping on a steaming cup of brown liquid at the table: coffee, I presumed. It was a relief to see the most Narlem-friendly predator on this rock still in one piece. His lips curved up slightly when he saw me, on instinct. Though that expression would’ve given me pause days ago, I knew from living in Nathan’s form that it was an admission of happiness.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Caleb pointed to an extra mug of coffee by an empty seat, arching an eyebrow. “You look much better. Sorry I didn’t wake you, but you were sleeping so soundly, snoring up a storm, that I figured I should let you rest. Thought you needed it, and after you slept twelve fucking hours, guess I was right.”

I accepted the offer of coffee, slowly ingesting the simmering liquid. “I did need the rest. I feel much better…physically. Anyhow, I’m not sure if I like this stuff. It’s bitter.”

“That’s okay. It’s mainly about keeping a routine at some point. Getting yourself moving, you know, starting your day the same just ‘cause. I was going to wake you if you didn’t get up soon, check that you were alright.”

“I exerted myself learning to walk and exercising, plus my emotions were drained. I don’t feel like I’m about to collapse anymore, so I guess I’m alright as I can be…for still being a human today.”

“Well, just existing and going, ‘Holy shit, my eyes point forward!’ can’t be exciting forever. That’ll be mundane soon, um, I hope. Now, I want you to take a deep breath, and tell me what you smell.”

I inhaled through my nostrils, feeling a rich, acidic aroma tinged with spices hit my olfactory organs. “I smell something that makes me hungry.”

“Attaboy. I had the chili brewing on the stove, and I was thinking I’d fill you up with a big, fat breakfast. Why don’t I just pop in some toast, and then we’ll dig in?”

“Okay. Thanks.”

The predator hopped out of his seat, and moved over to a boxy appliance that had two mouths. I watched in horror as Caleb plugged it in, and fed it bread; I almost spilled my coffee with fright when it regurgitated the grains, launching them upright. My confusion intensified as I noticed my brother set a proper utensil by my side. Was this a test to see if I’d learned my lesson by eating with my hands yesterday? Hunters didn’t use silverware like civilized people; why would they care about messes or elegance, when it delayed them shoveling food in their mouths? Hands did the trick just fine, or better yet, a beast could just shove their snout in the dish and skip that step altogether.

Caleb heaped a generous portion of a reddish-brown goop with chunks in it onto a plate with a ladle, before tossing a piece of now-charred bread next to it. My mind harkened back to the asphyxiating incident from last night, recalling that the unbearable pepper was the main ingredient in this dish. I also thought I could see chunks that looked like flesh cubes in it, which made my ravenous stomach turn. This could become a habit in no time, but my brother would be offended if I refused this offering he’d gone to great lengths to gift me. I tentatively grabbed a spoon, and watched the Terran sit down so I could mimic his movements. The creature scooped his liquid with the utensil, bringing it to his mouth in a reasonable bite.

Earth is a lot less backward in many ways than I expected, despite being full of mangy beasts. They have basic grooming and proper structures, even pretending that you can civilize the consumption of flesh meals.

I eyed the snacking human warily. “I don’t trust those peppers. Is this going to burn my mouth?”

“Tiny bit of heat, but it shouldn’t be anything you can’t handle. Is that the only reason you’re giving me a weird look?”

“I…it’s considered beyond dangerous to be around a predator at mealtime, when they’re hungry, indulging their base desires, and thinking about food.” I lifted a small helping of the chili, watching steam waft off the spoon. Why had Caleb elevated its temperature…to simulate the warmth of a freshly-bleeding catch? “You could become the meal in such circumstances, for the obvious reasons I listed.”

“Try the food. Go on.” My brother leveled his binocular eyes at me, until I nibbled at the chili. It was bursting with acidic and earthy flavors, and only brought the slightest sear to my taste buds. “Good, yeah? So Nate, are you thinking of eating me now?”

“What? No! Of course not.”

“No shit, Sherlock. The only thing I want to eat is the goddamn chili. We need to have some conversations about food, since this seems to be a…massive point of confusion for you. Why don’t you just ask whatever is on your mind about this, so we can try to talk about literally anything else?”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Fuck. This tastes so gratifying. I slurped down several bites, feeling liquid dribble onto my chin. The human blinked in irritation, before throwing a napkin at me. “Where is the blood in your food, and why do you boil it? That’s what we do with contaminated water.”

“Um…bro, you can’t eat a live animal or eat meat raw. There’s a fuck ton of bacteria. We’re not wild beasts; we can avoid that shit, plus, most of us find bloody food super unappealing. I guess it’s like killing microbes in water, ‘cause you woulda gotten real sick munching on that poor, live squirrel. You would’ve had a real bad time with that coming out the other end too, buddy.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks from that mental image. “…I see.”

“Good. So please, for the love of God, is there something else we could talk about?”

I tore into the bread after scraping the bowl clean, and considered other topics while I chewed. If I were to treat Caleb as I would a proper sapient, I should take an interest in something about his personal life, independent of me. Asking his interests wouldn’t yield anything useful, since my knowledge of Earth’s pop culture (assuming they had one) was lacking. My mind ran through snippets of our interactions together, limited as they had been. Realization dawned on me, recalling how he appeared to be a member of the gun-toting institution which apprehended me; his role was what saved me from the facility. Perhaps discussing what he did for work was a suitable topic? Any predator would be proud of strength and authority.

“Your job,” I mumbled, through a mouthful of food. “You carry weapons and can abduct people. Are you in the warrior guild? How many people have you killed?”

The human blanched. “I’ve never killed anyone. Um, I’m a police officer…we’re supposed to enforce the law, catch bad guys, and protect innocent folks from anyone that means them harm. That’s what I signed up for, anyway…”

“A-ha! You don’t have a separate civil service since you’re predators, so you call exterminators police! That’s why you carry deadly weapons and send people to predator disease facilities. Where is your flamethrower?”

“My flamethrower? I have no clue what the fuck you’re talking about, but exterminators are the people you call when bugs get in your walls.”

“Do Terrans not deal with wild animals? I guess it makes sense that you wouldn’t kill off predators, but there’s got to be some that are threats to your settlements.”

“I mean, we used to kill off some predators that farmers didn’t like, but that basically caused ecosystems to collapse. They teach that in middle school environmental science, man. Secondly, if there was an animal causing problems, that wouldn’t be us cops dealing with it—it’d be a job for the fucking dog catchers.”

“By ecosystem collapse, do you mean that prey animals got to live with the predators gone…and with your callous lack of empathy, you think that’s unnatural?”

“I mean that, without wolves, it had an effect on river erosion, because everything’s interconnected. Every part of nature exists for a reason, in response to other links in the chain. I don’t want to argue about this, Nate, so why don’t I clean up these dishes and we’ll find something fun to do.”

I squinted at him. “Don’t you have to go to work with your guild?”

“I called in today to take care of you. I’ll have to go back tomorrow, but first, I’ve got to make sure you won’t get into anything you shouldn’t.”

Caleb swept up the dishes, moving them to a sink. As shameful as it was to admit, that might’ve been the most delicious meal I’d ever had in my life; the appeal of flesh dishes was becoming clear. I shook my head, trying to clear that depraved thought. It was too easy to sink into their habits and ways, because if you listened to this Terran, their culture didn’t sound so terrible. I closed my fist, rapping my knuckles against my temple. My brain needed to be rerouted to the atrocities I knew that humanity had committed, from documented briefings.

Make Caleb defend why Terrans are so cruel and violent. He’ll convince you that they’re sweet and cuddly, if you let him, but you’re not that gullible, Narlem.

There was a reason the extermination fleet had been certain that this was the morally just choice, and the Federation’s findings vindicated our decision. I had spent my whole life wanting to be a hero on behalf of the Krakotl people; a few days trapped on Earth via a curse couldn’t be enough for me to throw away a lifetime of truth sourced from full sapients. My brother placed a hand on my shoulder, throwing his head toward the couch. Somehow inferring the alien body language, I made my way over to the sofa and flopped my bulky mass down. The pressing weight of Earth’s horrific past, hanging around in my mind, was enough to make me blurt out the query.

“Caleb, why are humans so cruel? Why did you slaughter, torment, and oppress each other if supposedly, according to your guildmates, predatory behavior is condemned and not desirable? If you have empathy and feelings, how do you explain that? There’s another side of you, and I’m tired of nobody admitting it!” I shouted.

The predator pursed his lips. “Now that is a barrage of loaded questions…holy fuck. People make choices, Nate. Power attracts the people who make bad choices. In your…imagined Krakotl life, why would you enjoy the thought of killing us all? You don’t believe that you’re cruel or cherish death.”

“That’s different. You’re predators. You’re a threat to civilization.”

“You know what, whatever. If you think nobody else could warp their thoughts to believe that harming someone meant nothing, or put their own aims ahead of other people; anyone is capable of doing awful things. It’s something you have to seek out and actively follow. I’ve seen criminals who’ve done terrible crimes, but they sure didn’t start that way. We’re not all like that. You and I aren’t like that.”

“I have no idea what I am right now! I have done things that I thought I could never do, these past few days, just for my own temporary whims and wants.”

“I think you’re lost, Nate. This is a chance to start over. And you know what? We could make some good out of this shitty situation. I miss seeing you smile.”

Caleb reached out with his hands, tugging the corners of my lips upward. I threw myself backward in horror, hating that his nasty, flesh-cooking fingertips had made contact with my saliva. Then again, my own carcass-contaminated hands had brought food to that orifice, so I supposed it didn’t make a difference. The human shrugged with a mock apology, before tickling right behind my knee. Involuntary laughs came from my chest, as I jerked my leg away on instinct; the strange scratches of his claws brought an odd rush of dopamine. It was like my body remembered a fun game that my conscious mind did not. My brother seemed quite amused by the stunt, continuing until I couldn’t breathe from my fit of hysterics.

“There’s the smile! I just want you to be happy,” he snickered. “So, guess what I just realized you don’t remember?”

I hugged my aching sides. “Predator games like play-fighting and sparring?”

“Nuh-uh. You don’t remember any of your favorite things: movies, music, TV! Oh, we all wish we could wipe our memories and relive that first experience with our most beloved entertainment. What do you say to binge-watching your favorite show? It’s something I could leave on when I have to work tomorrow, keep you occupied. Wouldn’t want you going stir-crazy with boredom.”

“Um, I don’t want to watch anything gruesome or war-exalting. What…what is this favorite show?”

“It follows a team of firefighters on Mars, and it’s called Red Dust, Red Fire. You and I loved watching it together…back when it was still actively airing, we’d text about it while we were both in college. Hell, you thought about applying to Dust Station to study abroad for a semester.”

“So….they just fight fires? No killing anyone?”

“It’s about saving lives. You’ll love the characters; fuck, you might open your eyes to the fact that humans have thoughts besides, ‘Me hungry, me eat.’ C’mon. If you’re not hooked after the pilot, I’ll do whatever batshit crazy shit Krakotl do for fun. Which I assume means building nests in the trees out of grass and straw.”

“That’s not what we do.”

Caleb bobbed his shoulders. “It’s as fair of an assumption as anything that you said about humans. So, what do you say, Nathan? Want to watch the heroes of Dust Station?”

“Um…” I didn’t trust that any predator-created entertainment could be remotely enjoyable, let alone have relatable characters or meaningful stories. However, I didn’t have anything better to do, besides worry about how soon I’d be hungry again and dwell on my transformation. “Sure. Why not?”

My brother switched on his television screen and pulled up Red Dust, Red Fire. I silenced an internal groan as I saw that it had sixteen seasons, which was an excessive waste of time to spend looking at predators playing other visceral predators. Their pursuits would be meaningless. How was I supposed to root for saving human lives, since that would mean more beasts existed to roam the stars and badger my people? Caleb passed me a blanket from atop the couch, and I curled up under the warm fleece with resignation.

At least this would be the perfect way to document how humans came short of full sapience, with their moral shortcomings and emotional failings. It was certainly better than being forced back to the streets, and having to act like one of them. I turned my forward-facing eyes to the television set, ready to see what passed as “entertainment” on this violent world.

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A/N - Part 7! Narlem is fed some Texan chili (which he says is the most delicious meal of his life), and takes the chance to ask Caleb a number of things; including humanity's food preparation rituals, what Caleb's police officer job entails, and the dark bits of Earth history he's seen from the Federation. His "brother" meanwhile, would much rather try to remind "Nathan" of the fun things from his life, including his favorite TV shows and how to be happy. Do you think this entertainment program will bring our Krakotl around? Is he making progress toward seeing the truth of humanity?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! Also, this is a milestone: the hundredth piece of NOP bonus content!