Yo everybody this is Dakkaman777 here with yet another great AVP fanfic. Now for those of you who are following my story 'The Asclepheus' this is a Spinoff, meaning it is set in the same universe with the same species of aliens and the same backstory.

For those of you who do not know of my story 'The Asclepheus' you should check it out, because a lot of stuff that happens within it will affect this story too.

Now everyone I hope you enjoy this first chapter of my new story.

Dakkaman777 proudly presents


The Pale Hunter

I never thought my life would end up like this. I never asked for much, just to be accepted, to fit in, and to bring honour to those who loved me.

Yet here I am


Getting the shit kicked out of me.

I fell to the floor, blood dripping from my mouth as my behemoth of an opponent circled me like a shark. I could barely see straight he hit me so hard, all I could make out were shapes, shapes of large and ugly enemies gathered around me in a circle while the one I loved screamed her lungs out to me, unable to break free from the grasp of those bastards.

"Is this really all you have?" I hear my opponent growl at me, his clawed feet crunching against the burnt ground beneath him.

I spit out a tooth as I struggle to get to my feet. My armour is literally hanging from my body and blood leaks from my injuries. The battle chanting of those surrounding us rings in my ears as I try to get to my feet.

"Are you really so anxious to die?" my opponent asks, I can hear the superiority in his fucking voice. This bastard just can't shut his mouth, even when he has me bleeding on the floor he won't just shut his face and enjoy the fucking moment. He has to act like a fucking supervillain or some shit, instead of just doing what he wants to do.

I know he wants to kill me.

He wants to skin me alive.

He wants to put my skull on his wall after stringing me upside down.

But most of all I can tell.

He wants me to suffer.

He wants me to beg for my life like a dog.

I hate to disappoint him, but I'm not begging like an animal.

I wasn't raised to give up like a spineless coward.

I wasn't raised to die like a dog.

Then I realize the folly of what I'm saying. How could I have any hope of surviving this situation? I am beaten and bloody, my weapons are either broken or being held in the hands of the bastards surrounding me, and most of all, even if I did somehow miraculously beat him, one of his hundreds of friends would finish the job….but not before killing her.

But what the hell am I saying?

You guys don't know who I am, let alone how I got in this mess.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that this isn't the best way to start a story. My mother was the best in the family at telling stories, she would start at the beginning, taking me onto her warm lap while my brother would sit cross legged and wide eyed.

I guess I should try doing this like she would. And don't worry I won't be telling you this like it's my own fucking life story…even though it is in a way. I will tell it like my mother told her stories, like an observer, so you can enjoy all the details of what is going on.

I guess now that I think about it, my life story up to now would be worthy of the tales our mother told us. A story of tragedy, of heartbreak, of loss. A story of Wondrous places and fierce creatures, of honourable friends and lifelong enemies, but mostly a story of how I would grow up to call myself a Hunter.

A story of how I would grow up to call myself


The Pale Hunter