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Solitary Trial	By : Solain Category: M through R > Predator Views: 7840 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Predator movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
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.X.
Time could have stopped then--the world could have halted in its rotation, the sun fallen from the sky, and neither cataclysm would have diverted my attention from the creature standing before me. Of the millions of thoughts and memories swirling in frantic disharmony in my head, two things became very clear�one of the beings that haunted my nightmares stood before me, and I was not afraid. I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again, finding no words. After a moment of struggling with myself, with the simultaneous desires to both approach Scar and run headlong away from him I shook my head with a frustrated noise. He hadn�t moved, except for the flexing of his fingers, and I wondered then what he was waiting for. A second later it dawned on me�he was waiting for the same thing he�d waited for all those times during our trials beneath Bouvetoya.
He was waiting for me to decide.
Decide whether I wanted to run, decide whether I was going to panic, decide whether to go to him and touch him as I wanted to. And suddenly I was angry, angry at being made to face such a choice now, when I wasn�t whole, when I wasn�t sure about anything. It was anger that drove me towards him, every step I took breaking loudly through the hard crust of the snow. He waited for me, an unmoving giant in the midst of clusters of pine and spruce. I stopped several paces from him, safely out of reach, and finally found the voice that had deserted me.
�Why did you come?� I asked, balking inwardly because I already knew the answer. He had come for me, though for what specific reason was something I didn�t know and wasn�t sure I wanted to. Scar remained silent and still; his inaction was unnerving. Nothing would happen here, I knew, unless I initiated it. And so it was I took the last few steps I needed to be directly before him. We observed each other in silence for a moment before I said softly, hesitantly, �Well?�
His head tilted, a gesture I had long since come to associate with curiosity or speculation. When he reached out with one hand to cuff me lightly on the chin I was irrationally relieved; his behaviour to that point had been alien, unfamiliar, making me wonder what had changed. I was beginning to have an inkling as to what actually had changed ... It was another moment of what seemed to be deliberation on his behalf before he moved again, stepping away from me. I frowned, confused, when he lifted one hand and pointed back the way I�d originally come. I shook my head, but he repeated the gesture, finally adding in a voice that I didn�t recognize, �See you soon.�
A promise that he would come for me? Why had he been out here, anyways? Even as I wondered that I knew the answer; he had been looking out for me. Perhaps I hadn�t been meant to see him, or perhaps I had. I was mulling this over when abruptly the shroud of his invisibility coated his form like water; I watched as he took several steps away and then he was lost from my sight. Instantly I was furious; how dare he? Why show himself and then hide again? Why did he follow me through a forest bereft of anything more harmful than a log hidden beneath snow waiting to snare me? Had he done this only to gauge my reaction, to see whether I would flee or accept his presence?
�Damn you!� I spat then. Turmoil was something I really didn�t need, but now I had it in excess. I spared one last glance in the area where I�d last seen him before spinning on my heel and marching back the way I�d come. Was he following me? Ghosting through the trees somewhere around me, ever the vigilant guard? I didn�t know, and in my anger didn�t want to know and so I refused to look behind me. Once I was back within my house I closed the door behind me and rested against it as my confusion, my fear, my anger and my irrational happiness at seeing Scar again vied for superiority within me. With a sigh I opened the door again and gazed out into the glaring white of the late afternoon, searching until my eyes watered. I saw nothing, heard nothing, but I also knew somehow that he wasn�t out there. Not yet, at least. I recalled then what he�d told me in another person�s words, and with another sigh I closed the door. He�d show himself later, I knew. All I could do until then was wait.
The day drew to a close, bringing with it a night clear and bright. As the evening wore on into the wee hours I waited in my traditional chair by the fire, but finally weariness that even the implications Scar�s impending appearance could not stave off wore at me, and I stood then and moved into my room. I slipped beneath blankets and stared at the ceiling for a long time, every creak and whisper made by my settling house prompting me to wonder if my visitor had arrived. Eventually my tiredness won out, and between one breath and another I was asleep.
.X.
Dreaming again�ebony monsters that moved with spider-like grace clustered in around me; Reed Weyland�s visage swam before me in familiar and frightening detail. Here he was again, standing before me with the spear, and I screamed as he brought it down, as I felt it puncture easily my skin, as the barbs at the tip caught and sliced me from the inside out�
It was almost as if I was physically expelled from sleep. I heard my cry trail away as my eyes opened, but also became aware of something else in that instant that gave birth to another sound of fear�a weight on my abdomen. When my eyes found the source of that weight I sucked in a startled breath as my entire body stiffened. Scar, devoid of his mask and illuminated by the light spilling in from the hall, stood over me; he had placed his hand on the flat of my stomach, as though to restrain me, to keep me down through the course of my dreamtime thrashing. Still riding the last vestiges of the emotions from my nightmare, I stared up at the hunter and wondered wildly at the fact that he�d chosen to wake me from my torment.
Seconds ticked by; my heart labored so strongly that it was hard to breathe. I was acutely aware of Scar�s touch, of the fact that only the thin fabric of the tank top I wore for sleeping separated his flesh from mine. I could feel the pebbly texture of his hand even through the shirt, and when those fingers flexed suddenly I couldn�t help the startled sound that escaped me. We both became still, statues unmoving but for our breathing. The air between us was tangible with things better left unrealized, but it was too late fro that�Scar�s very presence here in this room, the fact that he had returned and shown himself to me, both were indicative of all that I was so afraid to realize.
I whispered, because I didn�t trust my voice not to break, because I couldn�t stand the silence any longer, �You can let me up now.�
A soft chitter answered me after a moment, but he didn�t remove his hand; I had already known he wouldn�t. Instead he slid it upwards, over my abdomen and then the curve of my breasts in a slow exploration. And it was there he stopped, head tilting slightly to the side; I knew then that he could feel the frantic pounding of my heart beneath his palm. I couldn�t breathe. It felt as though I was drowning beneath the weight of my fear, anxiety and something else�expectation. I stared up at the unique fierceness of his features and felt something almost like delirium grow within me. I once thought I�d come to terms with how I felt about him, but everything seemed suddenly very surreal. His hand moved again, sliding up to my neck, and then his fingers found unswervingly the mark on my cheek. He brushed over it once before pulling away completely; I sat up at his withdrawal, disappointed, relieved, and completely bewildered. When he reached for me again and grasped my wrist I let him, and when he tugged I unthinkingly slipped from my bed to follow. He led me out of the room, back into the den where light shone night after night as a beacon for me. As I crossed the threshold he pulled hard on my arm, twisting me around so that I stood before him; he then released my wrist. I watched him expectantly, apprehensively, could feel the intensity of his amber gaze. For a long time, it seemed, we stood thus; I knew he was studying me, but why? I studied in turn, observing the body now bare of all but a thick belt and metal codpiece, the face, hidden normally behind a mask, that had never frightened me, the mark etched into his forehead �
And I knew then what he found so fascinating�the similar marks on my body, the imperfectly healed wounds. I stood stock still under his visual inspection, wishing I was wearing something more substantial then the tank top while at the same time experiencing a small frission of anticipation and exhilaration. His head had tilted to one side; I shivered under the impersonal gaze of that impassionate mask. When he began to move, slowly circling around me, I clamped down on the urge to run, to hide, and simply stood. He was behind me when I heard his almost inaudible trill; I half turned my head to look at him but froze when I felt the touch of his fingers. I knew what scar they traced; acid blood from the alien queen had once bathed my back, leaving my flesh marred and twisted. Once upon a time they would have been repulsive to me, an imperfection, but now they were simply and foremost a testament to life�I had survived against something not of this world. I had thought scars rendered your flesh insensitive, but as one of his talons lightly scratched the edge of one, a shudder wracked my spine. I sucked in a startled breath and moved away from him, away from his touch.
He snarled softly at me as I turned to face him, indicating he didn�t appreciate the distance I was trying to put between us. And abruptly my sense of unease, of anticipation, grew. I could have done many things in that moment, but I opted to do the one that scared me the most. With fumbling fingers I gripped the hem of my shirt and pulled it swiftly over my head before letting it fall to the ground at my feet. I waited then, terrified at what I�d done and what he may do, resisting the urge to cover my exposed skin. Finally I turned my back to him, inviting him to continue with what he�d been doing before I�d shied. This time he touched my marred flesh in a slow, thorough perusal, talons tracing the twisting lines in sequence. He stepped around me to examine the evidence of other wounds, lifting both my arms to touch the long vertical ridges left by the claws of the aliens. He laid one palm flat against the large, rough surface of what had once been a puncture wound in my shoulder and touched with the other hand more claw wounds on my ribs. His demeanour was that of curiosity, almost, were it not for the tension I saw evident in the lines of his body. When he�d finished he tugged at the drawstring of the loose pants I wore.
The meaning was obvious; I took a deep breath and shimmied quickly out of them, kicking them away once they were off. I felt a furious blush coming on and focused my eyes then on the wood of my floor; being naked in front of Scar was exactly as unnerving as I�d expected it to be.
.X.
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Solitary Trial