A New Means Of Survival (Futa Xenomorph/Female Reader

It started with a trickle, the odd missing person here or there, folk becoming ghosts, on a colony of this size it’s easy to brush these things off.

When a woman reports her husband missing, it’s easier to say that the lousy bastard skipped out on her, it’s easier than confronting the alternative.

The possibility that one of the members of such a tight knit community could perpetuate such a crime, that the neighbors could be anything other then the angels we’d like then to be. It’s too scary.

So the sheriff buried the investigations, no bodies were found so it was assumed that the missing simply moved onto greener pastures, not unheard of for people to run off to go to one of the core planets to strike it big, though how they got off the planet without anyone seeing them was a source of speculation.

The trickle turned into a stream, turned into a flood, entire entire neighborhoods being disappeared, no evidence of them packing up, no evidence of leaving the planet. All that remained being the children, left behind with only their trauma to accompany them.

The sheriff couldn’t ignore that, search parties were established, posters were stapled to a board of every public building in the colony, the empty seats in the restaurants and quiet streets became a grim reminder of the lost, a silent threat that this could happen to you.

The search teams came up with nothing, sometimes even worse than that as whole teams of volunteers would sometimes never report back to town after a long day of searching.

Inevitably the well of volunteers dried up, the harsh blowing of glacial wind being the only sound to accompany those who remained.

You could see it in the eyes of the bereaved, as each day you saw the glimmer of hope die down further and further until all that was left was a strange stasis, as if the world simply stopped turning, the tears were gone but the pain wouldn’t abandon them, they became numb, or were driven mad.

In the face of such grief the abandoned would start pointing fingers, determined to see justice for their loved ones, their husbands and wives and parents and siblings.

Strangely the children were the only demographic to be untouched, children were simply left to fend for themselves in the skeleton of their family homes or out on the streets of Juno.

The streets are quiet as I leave my home, my food supplies had run thin and I would have to make the trek to the diner or slowly waste away in my bed, waiting for whatever was out their to come and take me.

I clutch a wrench tight in my fists, so tight my knuckles turned white as I trudge through the snow swept streets, the arctic gale sinking through my clothes and sapping the warmth from my bones.

As I pass by the homes of the missing, the faces of children peer out at me, looking on with grim anticipation, wondering if this mad woman will make it to her destination or if she’ll be taking by that which haunted their dreams.

In the distance I spot the rime encrusted sign of The Hearth; one parts diner one parts bar and one parts motel since the sheriff disappeared.

A few of the survivors were hold up there; strength in numbers they said, which was nonsense of course, strength in numbers didn’t save the O’Malleys or the Chens, didn’t save the search parties or the sheriffs office.

But what were the alternatives? Hide in the floor boards, preying the boogeyman never comes knocking? Try to leg it out of town? And then what? Freeze on the tundra?

The door opens with a creak as the frozen wind cascades through the door and into The Hearth, already several guns are pointed in my direction before the scared looking faces of the diner recognize one of their own, swiftly lowering them.

“Christ girl, you scared the bejesus out of me…” says Trudy from behind the bar, placing her shotgun back into its nook beneath the counter.

“I ran out of food sooner then I expected… besides I’ll need a little extra to hold me over once I reach the tower” I say as I saddle up on one of the stools, directly across from Trudy who lets out a sigh.

“Damnit Kelly, there ain’t no use…! You’ll never make it there in time…” she says, annoyed to have to explain this again.

“And so what? It won’t make a difference if I’m snatched from my own home or on my way to the coms… and what if I DO make it..? I could call the company or hell, the USMC!”

“Kelly c’mon now… you’re smarter then this, this storm has been raging for days now, you know what that mean”

I do, the coms tower the company set up in the colony has always been sensitive, if a blizzard rages for any longer then a day it more often then not means the array is gonna be busted and need retuning.

Slowly I rifle through my bag a pull out a manual, sliding it across the table to Trudy.

“What is this?” She says, after a glance at the front, clearly not in the mood for any mysteries.

“I scrounged this off of the Jacob’s place, it’s like some company issued manual on how to fix up their tower, this combined with my skills, you KNOW I can fix that tower!”

She lowers her head, a glimmer of hope slowly creeping in through my words and into her mind, it’s no secret that I’m a damn good engineer, not the best but more then up to the task of fixing up a busted coma tower.

“…ok… say I agree that you could fix the tower… HOW exactly do you tend to get there…? It’s clear on the other side of the colony…” she says, wanting to believe but she needs more.

“These storms just about always comes in waves, when it picks up again I’ll be practically invisible out there, all I gotta do is be patient and time myself with the storm, easy” it was a damn good plan, the snow storms in Hadrun were no joke, it would be uncomfortable and I’d risk getting lost myself but if this works I’ll have saved the colony.

“Ok… fine… what do you need from me…?” She asks, finally buckling and surrendering to the hood that all of this could actually end.

“Just enough food for a few days, 4 at most… and… a gun if you can part with one…” I say drawing a strange look from Trudy.

I was never a gun girl, I could appreciate that they keep the wildlife out of town and keep honest people honest, but just being near one has always made me uncomfortable, let alone holding one.

“You even know how to use one of these little lady?” She says with a small teasing grin as she places a revolver on the counter, a box of ammo to accompany it.

“It’s like a torch right..? Just… point of shoot…?” I say half jokingly as I gently take the weapon into my hands, slowly tracing my thrums along the surface of the cold metal.

After briefly showing me the basics of gun control and safety she brings out a set of packages, containing freeze dried meals designed to have just enough to keep a colonist going.

“You sure you don’t got anything other then Prefab meals…?”

“That’s all I got, take it or leave it…” there’s a small somber tone in her voice as though she priming herself to never see me again.

I slide the meals into my pack before slinging it over my shoulder, it’s gonna be a long march to the tower.