*****REWORK OF CHAPTER 1 ******

Author's Notes: ** Hey. I'm new at this. I've never written about the AVP universe, so go easy on me. I'll learn. And hopefully you'll help me along the way. If nothing else, I want to leave you with something that was worth spending time reading. And please, I won't beg for reviews to get my story to the top...Just review simply for my pleasure. Let me know I'm not writing this and reading this all alone.

And as always, I must warn you that although I would simply LOVE to own the Aliens/Predator universe (or better yet, a Predator of my own), I don't and sadly never will. I am also not making a penny off of this story, either.

Pale moonlight filtered down through the canopy of the woods and for the life of me I could not remember how I had gotten here. Focusing my mind only lead to more frustratingly obscure memories . I knew my name, how old I was, and that I lived in the city. A city, though its name and the details escaped me. The most recent memory that fringed at the surface of my mind belonged to my childhood, but my body defied the betrayal of my thoughts. I was not the little girl trailing her parents, toting a balloon behind her through a museum.

I picked myself up off the ground and listened a long while before the agonizing strain on my lungs forced me to remember to breathe. That I could remember that. Breathe first. I then took several steps forward before the sound of leaves crunching and twigs cracking beneath my feet rooted me to the spot. The sudden noise split across the deafening silence of the woods and had most likely, to my horror, alerted every creature lurking in the shadows of my presence.

As disoriented as I was I was sure that I wasn't inebriated. I could remember that feeling – the spinning before the downward spiral. This wasn't like that. Intoxication might have explained my winding up in the woods and a large gap in between whatever revelry had occurred between then and now, but my mind, affected by something other than a libation-induced stupor refused to process the totality of my circumstance.

In the midst of my own mental debating, dozens of explanations vying for validation, I heard that noise that could strike fear into the heart of even the bravest of soliders. Footsteps. Sweeping, gentle footsteps and the hair-raising sensation of someone watching that followed. Instantly my body dropped in temperature. I was suddenly aware of how could I was. How my skin was prickled and my fingers, numbed by the temperature of my environment I had until now been indifferent to, were shaking.

Despite the involuntary shivering of my extremities when I lowered my head I hadn't expected to see bare breasts or bare feet. And before I could even wrap my empty head around that one there was that god fucking awful noise again and the realization that I was going to die naked. They were going to find my body months from now without a single fiber of clothing to provide my spotters the comforting knowledge that I had at least been granted a measure of modesty before my death, even if the fabric had long since rotted along with the rest of me. Hard to say if they would even be able to tell the difference between where the tattered fabric started and where cured muscle ended.

A gust of warm, sickly moist air washed over the nape of my neck. Outwardly I was as stiff as rigor mortis, but inwardly I was curling into a ball, hoping if I was still and quiet enough – every muscle straining to restrain my chest from heaving in panic - that whatever was behind me would pass by me unaware. But the suspense was worse than the actual breadth of silence; the chasm of listlessness that begged to be bridged.

Turning slowly a scream hitched itself in my throat when my eyes met the visage of a dark form behind me. Stumbling backwards and losing my footing in the fury of my frenzy, I hit the ground hard but didn't have time to lick my wounds. I kicked my feet at the figure drawing nearer, grabbing fistfuls of leaves and hurling them at it – anything, anything to deter it from coming closer. How pathetic I must have looked squirming on the ground in a toddler-like fit with leaves as my only weapon of defense.

"Shhhh!" it's voice hissed sharply. Not "it"…Female. It was a she and suddenly what I had believed in my panic was an extra pair of heads set just below its actual head were breasts. "You'll lead them straight toward us."

"Them?" My voice was a squeak.

"Them," she said, reaching her hand down to help me up.

I hesitated a moment before recognizing the lunacy of my reluctance. She was a woman. Women didn't hurt other women in these kinds of situations. Or so I told myself because I couldn't afford to alienate myself at this present moment. And so I grabbed ahold of her extended hand and hoped my faith in the bonds of femininity had credence.

"Pick up your weapon," she said. Her hand snapped over to where I had woken up.

"Weapon?"

For a second I was sure she rolled her eyes at me, but I couldn't discern between any deliberate movement and the shadows that filled her features from the fractured moonlight pouring down from the dancing treetops above.

"Look, all I know is that when we were dropped here we were given weapons and told to kill anything with a red "x". That these things…" The woman shivered. "…with the red "x"…their goal is the same as ours and if we want get out of here alive we have to kill them first."

All mumbo jumbo aside… "How do you know this?"

"There are others here like us. I saw it happen. A woman killed one of those things…" Again, her body quivered. "And then there was a flash of blue and something appeared in the trees. Perched up on the branches…Looked like a human, but much taller. Jumped down twenty feet and landed like it was nothing. Didn't hurt her…just took her."

She took notice of the skeptical expression I was sure had contorted my features into that of a scrunched nose and creased forehead, but she didn't care enough to even attempt to convince me that any of what she said was true or even possible.

"All I know is I'm getting the hell out of here. And if I have to kill one of those things to do it…Hell, all of them – I'll do it." She lifted a machete I hadn't noticed had been resting at her side and gave me a nod.

I was half expecting her to bring that thing down on my head when she scampered off as quietly as she had arrived. Feeling like I had been the butt of some terrible joke I stood a long time without moving, hoping at any moment someone would jump out from behind a tree and unveil their hoax. I, being so overwhelmed with relief, would then pounce on them before showering them with kisses. And after kissing and hugging what at the moment had been the most wonderful face I had ever laid eyes on I would proceed to beat the living shit out of them.

An eternity passed before it became apparent that no one was going to jump out of the darkness and let me in on the joke so I walked back to the tree and stared down at its base. Well I'll be damned, I mused while looking down at what I could only imagine was a spear. Though when I thought of spears I thought of a wooden pole with a poorly sharpened rock fastened to the end of it, not this. This was sleek, black metal with a stinger-like barb attached to the end of it. After oddly admiring it I picked it up, snapping around just as a faint, distant screech filled an otherwise vacuum of silence. Whatever was making that sound wasn't human, but whatever it was, I had determined that it wasn't going to make a meal out of me.

Carrying this heavy spear wasn't the first obstacle I encountered after picking it up. First was the glaring fact that I had absolutely no idea how to carry it. Trying to hold it horizontally at my side lead to the front bowing forward and rutting into the ground. Resting it against my shoulder would prove futile in the event something sprang out at me as the tip was at my head and the spear itself too long to quickly flip around and make any meaningful jabs at whatever was charging at me. So I settled for holding it straight across my body; left hand just below the blade and right hand at the center.

And then I wondered if I had always been this weak. Had my mind never been able to function under such pressure? In such dire circumstances? I didn't even seem capable of recalling events that had occurred only hours ago. And all the while that awful screeching was growing louder and none of what was going on inside of my head would matter once I came face to face with it. Death was no respecter of persons and it sure as hell didn't excuse ones that couldn't even recall their own names.

And then death had a face – or at least the face I envisioned when that shivering, machete-wielding woman spoke about 'them'. I gripped my spear tighter, not sure if I would use it to keep some distance between its snarling teeth or just whirl it around like a baton, hoping to land a blow or two on its head or scare it enough to think twice about snacking on me.

But this thing was whimpering. Crouched down on the ground and draped in an eerie blanket of darkness, I couldn't tell if its size was the behemoth I perceived through fear or if shadows were playing more tricks on me; bending my perception to mask what it hid in its dark embrace.

"Please," it said desperately. Again, not an It. A She.

I stepped closer, still determined to jab this heavy, primitive javelin at its – her – throat if it came near me. I wanted a better look. And damn if Machete wasn't right. Right there, in a pool of moonlight, was a big "x" on her chest. But was it really red? Didn't blood look black in moonlight? But I had never seen blood under the light of the moon. I had no frame of reference, no context in which to form a meaningful conclusion; one that was vital to my survival. One that escaped me as conveniently as my short-term memories.

Though Machete had been right about the letter (maybe not the color, but at least the letter) she hadn't been right to lead me into thinking that these creatures we were supposed to kill were horrible, ghastly aliens with tentacles and horns, foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. Good God, this was a human! And by the looks of it a very pregnant human, no less.

"I just want to go home."

Her voice was softer than a whisper and I wondered – with a deep measure of doubt - if I had really just heard her speak or if I was beginning to lose my mind. Or if it was possible that I had already lost it.

"My baby…Just…"

I also wondered about the woman Machete was so adamant had been taken from these woods after killing these marked 'creatures'. Did this woman get to go home because she had killed without hesitation? It didn't make sense why Machete would lie. We were both naked in the woods toting weapons that would split skulls, tear out hearts, or otherwise maim and destroy. We both wanted to get back to our lives in one piece.

I lifted the spear and muttered to myself, slowly trying to talk myself into actually putting this barbaric weapon to use. I wanted to live. She wanted to live. Maybe I wouldn't have felt so torn if she wasn't pregnant. If she wasn't, would she still be on the ground begging me to spare her life? Or would she be waiting for the moment I became distracted before lunging and digging her fingernails into my throat and ripping it out? There was no way of knowing exactly what was going on inside of her head and I wasn't so sure that what was going on inside of mine was so reliable.

"Damn it!" I huffed before throwing down the spear.

I couldn't do it. Every part of me wanted to…to live…But I just couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt her. It was wrong. Murder was wrong, but murdering a pregnant woman was even worse. A mortal sin. Unforgivable. One that if there really was a hell I'd have a special spot next to Satan himself for it.

I dropped down in front of the woman and put my hand on her shoulder. Her skin was ice cold and she was trembling. Not shivering, trembling. Up close she even looked like a good person which made me wince at the thought of nearly killing her just a minute ago. She looked like the sort of woman I might ask to adopt my baby if I found myself pregnant and alone and penniless. It made me wonder what the fuck she was doing out here more than I wondered about myself.

"Let's get you and your baby out of here."

I didn't know where the hell I was going to take her, but I did know that Machete was still out in these woods and that she was now this woman's biggest threat.

As we began to wade through the dark I caught a burst of blue light out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head and squinting, I saw faint movement from within the network of branches no more than a yard away. Though not looking at her, I reached out and put my hand on the woman beside me to make sure she was still standing next to me. I had seen the blue light and the form within the treetops, yet I hadn't killed this woman and since my hand was clearly resting on an upright shoulder I knew Machete hadn't either.

And I waited, again hoping to see a familiar face emerge from behind the dense trees. But the movement didn't come from behind the trees and I had a feeling I didn't know anyone that could drop twenty feet down and land on their feet. I just knew I didn't.