First off, Merry Christmas! If you don't celebrate Christmas, Happy Holidays, then! Either way, I'm super hyper on candy, and I just REALLY wanted to post this!

The concept for this story was inspired by a dream I had a while back that was freaking amazing, and seeing as I finally found the time to finish the first part I really wanted to post it because I've never seen a concept ANYWHERE like this, and I think it would be cool to get it out there and see what people think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Alien or anything associated with its creators. I own only my OCs. All rights reserved to their respective owners.

Rated M for: Language, graphic violence, gore, and explicit sexual content. You have been warned!


I had to run. I had to get away. There would be no hope for us otherwise.

My feet burned with every step. Pained by the hard, rocky ground, and my chest ached with the force of each breath. I was cold, hungry, and unimaginably tired, but I pressed on regardless. Thunder crackled above me, and lightning illuminated the path just long enough to see the ground as I cracked my foot into a stone and fell, scraping my palms, knees, and elbows on the rocks.

I couldn't stop crying. My body begged for me to stop, but I couldn't give up now. I couldn't.

Inside, I felt my baby stir.

I was afraid for our lives, but none more so than that of my little one. They would do such horrible things to him if I stayed; I knew it in my heart and in my mind. I wasn't going to let them hurt him. He was mine. I pulled myself together and ran along the rain slicked ground. Clutching my gown tight while navigating the dark forest of stones, feeling the ache of my baby in me. I would never give him up. Never. Neither Heaven nor Hell nor the gods themselves could take him from me, and I'd be damned before I let those bastard scientists get their mitts on him.

He was mine—my lovely little one.

Wind whipped in my face. Freezing rain pelted me like thousands of tiny needles, and over the roar of the storm, I heard the call of dogs and their masters. They were getting closer, now. Couldn't be more than a hundred yards back.

I was growing more desperate by the second. There had to be a way out of this. A way to escape. A way to keep my little one safe even if I knew I wouldn't make it out of this alive. It didn't matter what happened to me in the end. I didn't care. Just so long as he would survive, my life didn't matter.

An agonized eternity passed as I feared I was trapped in the canyon maze, but then the walls disappeared, and I ran for freedom only to slam on the brakes. My heels dug raw into the earth, and I waved my arms frantically to keep my bearings. Looking down at the deep, dark chasm of the cliffs beneath me. I barely managed to right myself and stumble away, chest aching with fear and adrenaline. Heart raced a thousand miles an hour.

Cliffs to my front and the maze to my back, I searched for a way out when I felt my baby stir again. Woken by the fear in my heart. I held my bosom and cooed to him softly, "Your mother loves you, little one. Sleep, now; it's not safe for you, yet."

As if he understood my words, he grew still and continued his blissful slumber—a slumber I wished never to wake him from. My heart fluttered at the thought of my precious little one—so sweet and innocent. I almost wished he would never be born, that way he would never leave me. We could be together forever.

Just as I thought I spotted a way out, the muzzles of dogs emerged as they came dashing through, barking and snapping and growling frenziedly. Foam frothed at their lips, driven to their limits in pursuit of me. I went for another way, but more appeared there and soon I was surrounded, backed against the cliff face. Teeth bared like ravenous beasts, hungry for the kill. I felt my chest heave with a jolt of painful fear, and I knew my baby was crying.

"Back!" one of the trainers called, and the dogs drew away. Still, their teeth gleamed white in the dark.

The rest of the men caught up with us then, some running and others driving. Some carried guns, some electric batons, one even brandished a flame thrower with the fuel tank replaced by liquid nitrogen. It was only then that I saw Weyland step off the back of an ATV, cloaked in a big, black rain coat.

He tried to approach me, arms raised in either a show of peace or to keep the rain from his eyes. Calling over the storm, "Eva, you have to stop this! You don't know what you're dealing with! Come back with us and we can help you!"

"Liar!" I shouted, shielding my body from his eyes. "I've seen what you do with the others! You'll only hurt him! You'll do horrible things to him and then kill him when you're done, like some freak lab rat!"

"Please, Eva, you have to hear me out! It's dangerous! You don't know what it is—"

"I know exactly what he is! He's mine, and you can't have him!"

Lightning flashed and was followed immediately by a deafening clap of thunder.

My chest ached. It was hard to breathe. In the back, I saw a man emerge with a glass case at his side.

My baby was crying. He knew his mother's fear. Instinct told me to flee, to run with him and keep him safe, to set him free and let him live, but there was nowhere left to go.

The roar of the wind was growing louder, now. It howled like loud speakers in my ears. Thunder shook like an earthquake inside. Bolts flashing behind my eyes. I had to get away. I had to. But with the people and the dogs, there was only one other way.

I turned around.

"Eva, come away from the cliff . . . !" Weyland yelled, but his voice faded under the howl of the storm.

I grasped my bosom tight. My chest ached. There was a great pressure inside. My baby writhed with fear, and I held him, whispering soothing words. I sang my lullaby for him, a sweet and solemn tune to prove my love for my little one.

"I won't let them have you," I promised. My words disappeared into the gale. "You're mine, my little love."

I raised my arms.

It was hard to describe what happened next.

The world around us grew eerily silent. The kind of quiet that lets one know everything they've worked so hard for is about to come crashing down in a single instant, and it leaves their ears ringing in a deafening silence where nothing else exists.

I was aware of everything around me. The dogs barking, pacing anxiously amongst themselves in anticipation of something terrible. The men shouted things at each other like monkeys in a frenzy, and it was like the same invisible force that kept the dogs at bay now tied them down on leashes of their own. Weyland shouted something, but they couldn't find the will to obey. Something in their guts told them they were about to witness something horrific; something grotesque, mesmerizing, and strangely beautiful.

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened.

A great force heaved inside me. A dagger twisted in my chest, and there was the sound of something tearing. The taste of copper flared across my tongue. Speckles of light danced across my vision, consumed by tidal waves of red.

I crumpled, holding myself in pain, and was overwhelmed by an unimaginable force twisting and curling and clawing its way through my body. "No," I cried, and I felt my lungs being prodded and stabbed. "No, not here! It's not . . . not safe for you yet . . . ! Aaaaah!"

My baby no longer heard me. He no longer heeded his mother's pleas. He was too scared to listen now, too frightened to obey anything but his own need for escape.

He couldn't leave me now! He couldn't! He'd die if he did!

I made a decision.

I ran.

Past the dogs as they barked and cried in anxiety and fear. Past the scientists as they stared, dumb and perplexed. Desperate, I fled back toward the stone maze, but I made it no farther than the first turn when my baby lurched again, and I found that I could no longer move.

Crying, I rolled to my back and heaved.

There was a quick burst of crackling and my sternum came forward.

I screamed.

Lightning flickered red behind my eyes. Wind and thunder roared.

My body arched, clawing and digging at the rocks. My bosom contracted. All I could think of was the pain. The pain and wanting it to end. My body heaved and arched again, trying to free my baby from his prison inside.

Another crack. Louder this time.

I screamed again. Spitting blood from my lips.

There was one more push, and with the sound of tearing flesh and crackling bone my baby was free.

Oh, how beautiful my baby was.

His tiny, yellow body, reddened and stained with my blood, the rain seemed to cleanse him of the gore of his birth.

And he cried. Soft and shrill, like a tiny bird shrugging through the last pieces of its shell. Greeting this strange, frightening new world.

He looked at me, and although he had no eyes, he saw me.

The precious little darling, he already knew his mother.

"My baby," I whispered. My lungs were filling. It was so hard to breathe. With shaking hands, I reached up and held my sweet love gently. "My beautiful baby. . . ."

He hissed and whined and squirmed in my fingers, slippery and new with life. My body felt cold, and he was so warm. Stroking my fingers over his smooth head, slender and long.

I coughed, and a globule of blood came up. My eyes and arms felt heavy. I was so tired. Sore and exhausted, I wanted to rest. To sleep and be with my baby when the morning came, but there would be no waking for me.

A sea of icy cold water slowly washed over me. Consuming like the tides.

He stopped his crying after a moment and grew still in my hands, and he made little noises that reached my ears over the bawl of the storm. Trilling and chirring, his smooth, slippery head nestled into my palm, and a tear streamed down to my ear.

I couldn't breathe anymore.

The tide came in faster now, and soon I was covered completely.

"My baby," I whispered with my final breath. "Live, my love. . . . Live. . . ."


"What are you waiting for? Go get her!" Weyland shouted.

He grabbed a man by the collar of his vest and shoved him where Eva had run, watching in dismay as the girl vanished around a boulder.

The embryo was entering its eruptive phase and the fools were just standing there! He couldn't afford to lose this specimen; it represented too great of an investment to lose it, now!

Weyland and the men sprinted toward Eva's escape, and there they came upon the bizarre site of the newborn chestburster clutched in the lifeless hands of its host. The men scrambled to catch it before it got away, and at the price of three maimed arms and a slashed throat, the drone was finally stowed away safely into its specimen jar.

Only then did Weyland breathe a sigh of relief. Looking down at Eva's pale, mutilated body, he felt a strange sense of admiration for the girl. Through all the pain that came with being a host, she still managed to try and elude them. How courageous.

Shaking his head, he could scarcely imagine what could have been running through her deranged mind in those final moments. To mistake a xenomorph drone for her own child. . . . The mere thought of it frightened and fascinated him all at once. Her history of mental instability was no lie.

He muttered for only the wind and the dead girl to hear, "You put up quite a fight, Eva, and I respect you for that, but you forget that I control everything that goes on here."

The overpowering gale gradually begun to die, now, and soon it was nothing more than wind and a light rain. A medical examiner came over to get the official record of Eva's death, and Weyland made his way to the ATV where the specimen jar was being strapped down tightly. Its tiny captive squealed and thrashed inside, hitting the glass with quiet, pathetic, little taps, trying to escape.

In the end, it always works out in my favor, he thought.

Touching two fingers to the glass case, the drone stopped and looked right up at him. Even without eyes, he sensed its glare, and it hissed angrily. Tsssseeeee! Tiny teeth bared behind yellow lips, snapping the inner mouth viciously against the glass, coating it in slimy, clear secretion.

"Fiery lil' worm, this one is," said the man as he finished strapping down the case, not happy that he was the one to transport the little monster. "Might be a probl'm when it's grown."

"All the more reason to keep it alive and study it." Weyland stood straight. "Make sure it gets back to the research center safely. I want it healthy and ready for—"

A frantic shout caught them by surprise. "Mr. Weyland! Mr. Weyland, come look at this!"

Startled, Weyland and a few of the men ran to the source of the voice.

It was the medical examiner, Doctor Clark Malcolm, holding a stethoscope to Eva's bloody neck.

"What? What is it?" Weyland said, brow furrowed. Curious and concerned.

Malcolm looked rather disturbed, his hands shaking as he listened to what the instrument was telling him. "I-it's the host, Sir. She's still—She's still got a pulse!"

Weyland's eyes grew wide like saucers.

One man, equally surprised, exclaimed rather crudely, "Bitch has a hole the size of a grapefruit in her chest! How the fuck could she still be alive?"

"I-I-I don't know. It's faint, but her heart is definitely still beating." Malcolm looked up at his superior as if wondering whether all this was real. Surviving a chestburster, it was unheard of! Then his face hardened with some unknown emotion, and he looked as if he were pleading with Weyland. "But if we get her back to the center fast enough, I may be able to save her."

Save her? Save her after having a xenomorph burst through her chest cavity? He never thought he'd see the day. . . .

But then again, Weyland didn't even need to think about his answer. Eva's survival purposed an excellent opportunity for study. Not only to see what strange anomaly had possessed her to think in such a way—for thinking of a xenomorph embryo as her own child—but also to see if it were possible to recreate whatever it was that was keeping her alive.

He wondered for a moment if it were possible that their experiments on the embryo could have influenced this. How wonderful that would be if it were true!

He was quick to give out orders. "I want this girl back to base yesterday."

The entire area was then bustling with motion, people running to carry out the order. Dogs and people being packed in for the move; getting a vehicle ready with space and a lot of medical equipment.

Malcolm rushed to put his things away to help with the patient.

"Make sure she gets to the research center before us, and have the men there ready a containment chamber for the chestburster. I want hourly updates on Eva's condition. You're in charge of her, now."

Malcolm nodded, and not a minute later, Eva was on a stretcher loaded onto the back of one of the larger vehicles. Wires and intravenous protruded from all over her body, a tube down her throat clearing her lungs of blood and enabling her to breathe, using whatever he could to block the massive hole in her sternum.

As the vehicle pulled away, Malcolm watched as Weyland returned to the ATV where the infant xenomorph was locked inside. He gazed down at Eva's bloody, mutilated body. Her pale face, white with blue lips, deathly and ghostlike. It was one hell of a sight, and certainly not one for the faint of heart.

It didn't make any sense that she was still alive. People just didn't survive injuries like this. It simply wasn't possible.

What did they do to you? he wondered as they pulled away back toward the research center.

Fascinated, Weyland watched as the chestburster followed the fleeing vehicles with its eyeless face, tracking them. One in particular carried the dying body of its once host. Incredible, he thought. This one was something entirely unique from the other specimens.

He had to get the creature back to a lab and study it fast. Waiting was not an option.

Sensing a presence, the chestburster turned its head up and hissed vilely.

Whipping its tail high over its head, it leaned forward, pushing up awkwardly on its four, weak, little legs. It launched itself at the glass and made contact with a light pat, succeeding in shaking its enclosure but not in damaging it. It clawed the wall and attempted to climb, aiming its attempts at an air hole too high to reach and too small to escape.

"Amazing," he commended the creature. He leaned in close to watch it, entranced as it jabbed its inner mouth and tail towards the tiny hole. "Now, my wonderful mutation, let's see just how different we've made you."


I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to finish this story and post the rest. I know where I want to go with it, but seeing as I have other stories that also need to be worked on, this will most likely end up with a backseat until I can get around to working on it again.

Otherwise, I really, really, REALLY hope that you enjoyed the first chapter! As I said, don't know if I'll continue it, but I hope it's enjoyable nonetheless.

I have to know what my readers think! Please Review!