(FR-18, or FR-21. No sexuality, no curse words, but extreme violence)
Long had he hunted. He was known around the universe and by his species as one of the mightiest, and he was revered for being so. Faster, stronger, better than many of the others, he had never once lost his prey.
Fastened upon his dwelling were hundreds upon hundreds of trophies, ranging from the Swamp Fiends of Kha'thon to the serpents that the Yautja grew.
In his youth, he had hunted everything and anything, regardless of gender, of physical status. This put deep consequences to him. The Elders of his tribe condemned him to a extra, 200 year-long sentence of exile in the hellish desert planet of Orpheon.
He had fought and fought the grim and vicious inhabitants of that planet ferociously, with all his might. Constant battles for survival.
After the 200 years had passed, his transport had arrived. They searched for him, and when they stumbled upon his lair they found many trophies. Stricken by his capabilities, they brought him back to face the elders. Instead of the customary disgraceful dismissal, he was granted another chance.
They would send him to the cold ice of their homeworld, and he would start a new colony of the serpents. And he did, with joy-for he knew that many more hunts would come. He was known by many names from that point-Ragnarok, Fang, Wrecker.
He called himself The Keeper.
As the years went by, he constantly had more trophies to add to his collection. And they were all of the same crescent shape-the same terrible grimace on their faces.
Long had he kept the colony, letting the younger ones hunt the serpents and gather their first trophies. But, he realized that while he was ushering in the new ages of prosperity for his tribe, he was not how he used to be. He was once mighty, and while still looked upon with respect, he was nothing more than an animal keeper for the disgusting and unworthy snakes.
Secretly, he left the homeworld, and blasted out into the cosmos. His tribe would either prove their mettle and alone defeat the outburst of the serpents-or they would fall. Either way, the outcome did not concern him.
Long did he search, scouring the universe for something new. He passed by many planets, and hunted, but they were all the same.
Then, he found it.
The blue planet.
It shone in the galaxy like a beacon, beautiful. His kind told stories about it-long ago they had created colonies for the serpents there. But then, they ceased, and never went back to the planet. They said that the ultimate prey awaited there, but no longer.
He touched down upon this earth, and explored. He found giant jungles of stone, with prey. But they were unworthy, contrary to the popular belief, and weak. He did not want mindless slaughter. He wanted a hunt.
For long did he travel the planet. Until, one day, he made his way upon old, untraveled territory. A misty and dark corner of a continent, where the humans always whispered of evil creatures. They could not know about him, though-he had just arrived.
No, they spoke of something else.
Hunter's Moon
He sat, invisible in the high, dead trees. For long had he watched the humans of this tiny, mist-shrouded village. They moved as if in constant fear. But of what?
The early day turned to late, and then to night. A moon rose, full, shining, beautiful. Still, he sat.
Not many were out this late. They feared something.
A few always moved by, but hurriedly. Then, a group walked out, carrying three-pronged blades and hooks. They spoke.
He listened.
"....is full! We should not split up, we must stay together and hunt it down!", one of them told the others. They grumbled in agreement.
"Alright then-Jones, lead the wa-", another started, but he was interrupted by a screech in the night.
AwwoooooOOOOOOOOO!
The men froze. They readied their crude weapons, and waited, in a group.
He only watched in curiosity.
Then, there was a rustling underfoot. He looked downwards through his mask. Mentally, he switched to therma-red.
A bright, large body mass moved at incredible speeds through the brush. It cleared through the bushes, and jumped outwards.
He switched back to normal vision.
The men screamed in horror.
A huge, furred body fly out from the woods, muscular. It was covered in thick fur, and had long, sharp claws on either hand. It's jaws were huge, and it's fangs protruded out. It was like one of the humans, but was no man......
Flying, it crashed into the group. The humans flew, thrown like rag-dolls. The monster gripped one, and bit deep into his throat, and tossed him aside as the blood spurted. It smacked another and sent him flying, and then crushed another man with it's fist. Jumping, it crashed down onto more, and then the slaughter only escalated. Gripping the last, it rose him into the air, and pulled. The human screamed, until with a heave he broke into two, his entrails and blood flying and splashing against the ground. The monster tossed aside the human's legs, and pushed his torso into it's jaws, and crushed them down, breaking into bone and flesh.
There was soon nothing left.
The wolf leaned back, and let off a cry to the moon.
He had seen enough.
Standing on the branch, he reached behind into his pack, and retrieved his Nagatina. Still in it's shrunk form, he pressed a small button on it's shaft. With a grinding, it burst out at both sides, extending.
He lept off the branch, and landed with a heavy thud against the ground. The wolf heard it, and slowly turned in his direction.
He disengaged his cloak, and shimmered back to visibility.
The wolf roared at this new creature with fury.
Spinning the Nagatina with skill, the Keeper put it into a fighting stance, the blade shining and ready for blood.
He had searched long, far and wide for a worthy hunt. He would finally get it.
The wolf charged, raising it's clawed fist in anger. It brought it downwards, using it's superior size to it's advantage. The Keeper dodged to the side, and the attack slammed downwards onto the ground, blowing up dust and chunks of dirt.
Jumping and performing a acrobatic flip, he slashed at the monster with his Nagatina. It cut, but did not go deep-the creature was tougher than it appeared. Blood dripped down it's course fur.
He landed, and turned, just in time for a swipe to connect with him. The huge hand knocked him backwards, but as he flew he stabbed his Nagatina into the ground and using his momentum spun around it. Upon the apex of his spin, he pulled the weapon out of the dirt, and flew towards the wolf, giving it a hard kick to the face.
He flew by the monster, landed, and rolled, then rose to his feet. The monster was stunned for the moment, and stumbled backwards.
Rushing forwards, he jumped at the wolf, preparing for a killing strike. He brought back his Nagatina, and then slashed with all his might.
However, had he been just a moment faster in his run, he would have succeeded. But the wolf recovered, and sidestepped quickly. The blade stabbed into it's arm, going deep. The monster roared in pain, and-with The Keeper still holding on-swung it's impaled arm around.
He flew, forced from his grip on his Nagatina, and crashed into and through the wooden wall of a nearby cottage. Wood splinters and dust flew in all directions.
Hitting the rough floor of the building, he slid and went a far distance before pushing off with his feet and landing on them, ready.
Gazing out, he saw the huge wolf rip the weapon out of it's arm, crimson blood flying. It tossed the weapon aside, where it stabbed down into the ground.
Reaching into behind his back into his pack, he retrieved two small disks.
Motioning with them, he got into a ready fighting stance, where the two small disk expanded out with a shunk and revealed their curved spikes.
This time, he roared.
The wolf charged, moving fast, and dove at him, knocking wood out of the way. The monster crashed into him and he flew backwards with it, stabbing and slashing with his disks. The two crashed into a staircase and crumbled it to pieces with a rumble.
With his legs, he kicked the monster in the jaw, and the to the side of the face, knocking it off of him. Flipping up to his feet, he ducked barely in time to have a punch fly over his head. Spinning the massive throwing stars, he slashed upwards, cutting long gashes into the monster, having blood spill over him like a shower as it spread over the wood.
A backhand smacked him away, and as he flew he threw one of the disks. It spun through the air humming, and stabbed into the monsters stomach, having a burst of crimson explode out of it's belly. However, it found itself unable to break free from the fur.
The wolf bellowed in pain, and then in anger. As fast as it could, it broke at a charge, and slammed into him.
He flew backwards and crashed to the ground, rolling. The other disk flew from his hand, and slid.
The monster's footsteps sounded it's slow approach. He feigned being defeated, letting the creature's confidence grow.
Then, as it's shadow covered him, a shing signified the unsheathing of his wrist blades.
He slashed, and cut into the creatures ankle. The blades cut into flesh and impacted on bone as the course thick blood spilled over them. The wolf howled in agony.
Then, in fury, it reached down and grasped him by the back. It slammed him into the ground, dirt spraying up. Then again, and again, and again. The bones inside of his body mushed and cracked, and blood seeped out of his mouth and into his mask. His vision blurred, the cottages merging with the well in the centre of the square and the church, with it's exquisite cross, pointed upwards, sharply.
He was tossed aside, and slammed into the ground. Something was wrong with his left arm, and he couldn't move it.
Then, the weight of the wolf crashed beside him. It gripped it's hands around his head, and began squeezing. His mask's vision systems began to malfunction, and merge, but he could make out one thing-the massive jaws of the creature opening and coming around his head.
He struggled, reaching for anything and beating against it's body with his strong, but not strong enough hands. He could barely breath, he was blacking out slowly. But he could not be defeated!
He was Ragnarok, Fang, Wrecker! He was The Keeper, the Slasher! He had defeated beasts that were giants compared to this pathetic creature. But slowly, he was losing his might strength.
Then, his hands felt the smooth, hard metal of the other disk he had dropped.
Grasping it, he slashed upwards into the throat of the creature with all his might.
Shucckkk!
The blades hit their mark, and the spray of blood that splashed all over him signified that. Then, using his advantage, he reached and grasped the disk that was embedded in the monsters stomach.
Grabbing it, he tore upwards, and cut a vertical, deep slash into the creature's chest and belly. It bellowed, the anguished cries of torture ringing in his ears.
Guts and entrails spilled down and covered over in, the intestines of the creature slashing it's bodily fluids onto his mighty body.
Brining his foot up, he roared, and then delivered with all his strength a kick to the creature, sending it flying backwards off of him. He sat up, barely, and watched as the huge, bloodstained wolf flew through the air. Behind it was his Nagatina, stabbed downwards into the ground, the other point of it aiming at an angle.
The wolf's head and neck went straight through it, blood like a geyser shooting into the air and splashing down, the infernal creature's howlings ceasing.
It was over. He had slain the beast.
It twiched, it's body still wanting to move. He rose to his feet, cradling his mangled arm. He walked to the downed creature.
There was only one thing left to do.
He gripped the Nagatina with his good hand, and then bellowed out his mightiest roar of triumph.
He ripped upwards, the sinew of the creatures neck splitting, flesh tearing, and finally the joint bursting as bone was torn from bone. It shot upwards, crimson spray gushing, and he held the creatures severed head, still connected to the spine, impaled on his glorious weapon to the sky, roaring as he had triumphed over a beast that made the serpents look like mere toys, playthings. He had hunted the mighty, and had won, for he was still mighty.
The adrenaline stopped pumping, and exhausting, he stumbled off into the forests for rest.
He glanced off, and saw a burst of lightning connect with a rod shooting out of a large castle. The windows of the structure flashed, and a form was outlined in one of them.
The ending of a human's words reached his ears.
"....alive! IT'S ALIVE!"
He roared back.
He would hunt anything alive in this place....
Bit spur of the moment, and I've been wanted to do a Predator fan-fic for a while. Guess what the next installment is going to be? :)
Comments and criticism welcome.
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