I do not own Predator

Summary: When you desperate anything will do, luckily he came across her. PredXHuman

Warning: This story will be graphic. Sexual situations, blood and gore, plus whatever is to come. I actually hunt so some of this is coming straight from experince so if you like Bambi and/or disagree with hunting animals i do not suggest reading.

Chapter One

The chill bit through her parka raising goose bumps along her flesh and although the wind was slight it had the bite of Mother Nature's promise of a cold and unforgiving winter to come. The sun was rising, she couldn't see it in the depths of the woods but she could feel it. The forest was waking and the impenetrable black her eyes had grown accustom to, was now a world of stark grays and shadows. The crunching of animals walking slowly on the stiff, dead, and snow specked grass reached her ears. She didn't move, her breath stilled in her lungs, eyes slowly scanning the trees looking for the source.

Three deer emerged from the forest following the path that they had been using all summer and possibly longer than that. The path led to a clearing less than half a mile away were they grazed. Two does followed by a young buck, its antlers no more than three inch spikes behind each twitching ear. All three walked at a leisurely pace behind one another, cautiously sniffing the air and ears rotating one hundred and eighty degrees. Deer are skittish creatures and to hunt them with any success involves patience. To be still for so long, before the sun even rises waiting for one opportunity, one opening, a chance that may not even present itself. The opportunity that she was waiting for was one of perfect planning.

Ten yards away was a large pine tree, thick branches stemmed from its trunk, and twenty-five yards past that is the path that her prey was traveling on. Coupled with a bend in the path and the ancient pine tree there was a blind spot where her prey couldn't see her position. Enough time to draw her bow and release a clean broadside shot when the doe cleared the tree. Adrenaline hit her system, heightening her already keen senses. The doe on the end was what she needed, the young buck too lean and the leading doe although nearly identical to the other was perfectly healthy. A limp, barely noticeable, on the trailing doe's front limb made her decision. The weaker prey wouldn't live as long as the healthy, picked off by predators such as herself and in the middle of the rut it would be better for the species for the weak to be eaten first.

The leader disappeared behind the tree, then the buck, and finally the trailing doe. She felt her breath slow, pulse rising, she slowly lifted the compound bow in her arms, arrow already notched, drawing the cable taunt leaning slightly forward allowing her chin to rest against her hand her right eye focused straight down the sights. Deep breath in and released in a huff of steam in the early November air, then followed by the crunching of hooves in the rotting leaves and grass. Glancing towards where the other three deer emerged her heart began to beat even faster if possible. The buck was large the way only the northern deer get its antlers thick and spread wider than its swivelling ears. Her inner hunter emerged, no longer was it about food, about eating, it was about satisfaction. The buck followed the path at a trot with obvious intentions toward the does, nose low to the ground in full rut. She held her bow drawn using her arm strength combined with the pulleys in the compound bows. Breathing slowly again she reassessed, the buck was traveling at a faster pace but still a reasonably easy shot. It disappeared behind the tree, she breathed deep once more, the buck cleared the tree still oblivious to the danger, exhale.


A clean shot, a clean kill. The arrow was silent upon release and the only sign she had hit her target was the deer bucking its back legs before taking off into the woods and the blood that covered the arrow when she pulled it out of a tree trunk a little past where she had been aiming. The buck ran thirty yards before collapsing, which was not surprising, a deer shot straight through the heart can run over five minutes before dying. The arrow hit right in the boiler room, the area behind and slightly up from their front limb where all the primary internal organs reside, and passed through completely. She followed the smatterings of blood toward the fallen prey, heart still beating quickly, she extended the aluminum bow to tap the buck's meaty hindquarters.


Unclipping the hunting knife strapped to her thigh she took no chances of the animals suffering and gripped the buck by the smooth antlers, pulling its head up off ground, she dragged her knife across the animal's throat. Red spilled across the soft patches of snow and dead foliage. The metallic tang hit the crisp air accompanied by the rising steam from the once living animal. She then quickly flipped the animal onto its back, she simply wasn't willing to waste precious energy dragging the heavy animal the two miles back to her cabin, she would field gut the buck here and it would lessen her burden by a significant amount.

She used her hunting knife to cut the hide down the center of the animal's body beginning at the hollow of the neck right to its sex, which she also quickly removed and tossed to the side. Then pulling out her bone saw from her belt sheath she then began to hack her way through the animal's ribcage with a small grunt. Breaking through at the animal's throat she then reached in its blood filled cavity the grip the slippery ribbed esophagus before severing it and moving down slicing the linings that hold the organs to the sides and back of the deer's cavity. Quickly inspecting the heart, its mass slightly larger than that of a human, she was pleasantly surprised to see it intact. Reaching behind her into her pack she pulled out a plastic bag which she then put the heart in after cutting it from its thick arteries. Steam was rising out of the deer's inside but the blood was thickening as it oozed out of the organ. She needed to work faster before the deer began stiffening. She cut the diaphragm, which was a lining of muscle under the lungs, also closing off the digestive organs from the heart and lungs. She then gripped the windpipe from the top of the animal and wrenched its guts out and through its hind legs spilling them onto the ground in a pile of gore. All that remained it the cavity was a pool of cooling blood.

Gripping the animal by a front and hind leg she awkwardly flipped the deer onto its front letting the blood drain. Scooping a handful of the fresh snow in her hands she quickly rubbed some of the blood off. She then removed her pack and rifled around before removing a length of rope, she then put the heart in her bag after tying the plastic in a quick knot. Tying the rope around the buck's neck she then spared herself a moment to glace at her watch. Quarter to seven she made out in the dim mourning light, she spared a satisfied smile not only for her successful scout of the path and resulting kill but also her quick cleaning of the animal. Gripping the rope over her shoulder and turning the buck on its side she began the walk back to her cabin.

She would skin her kill and then eat breakfast, she was already hungry from her previous task.

Only after she had walked into the brush and out of sight did he come down from the tree he had been watching her from. He crouched down and inspected the animals abandoned insides, prodding about with the tip of his compacted spear. Pulling the liver out of the steaming pile he was disappointed that woman had also taken the beasts heart as well. He looked towards the direction the three other animals had went, then towards the direction the human had disappeared in. Quickly he ate the cooling liver, gratefully for even the smallest bit of nourishment, and then quietly he began stalking his new prey. He had a score to settle.

She arrived at her cabin an hour later with her shoulders and legs sore from dragging the buck. However she was now wide awake in the warming sun and crisp air in the small clearing her family cabin sat in. Small but modern, it was only fifteen years old built on top of the ground where the previous cabin had burnt when a neighbouring tree had caught fire from a lightning strike. However it had stood unoccupied for the last two and a half years, and you could see the neglect with the tall grass and small saplings that had started to encroach on the clearing. Since her parents death she had been the last person who knew of the cabin up in the Canadian wilderness besides the few in the small town who kept an eye on it while they were gone. Memories plagued her here of her lost family and it was a bitter reminder of the happiness she had once been a part of. But it suited her current need for isolation and it would keep her safe. She couldn't be much safe anywhere else.

To the right of the cabin sat the shed where the generator and gas was kept, a large indented fire pit encircled by rocks sat in the center of the clearing directly in front of the cabin, and on the east side of the clearing slightly in the bush was two old hydro poles with a third as a beam on top of them. Hanging from it was two pulley systems, one that she now used to hang her kill up using the length of rope already tied about its neck.

Hanging it only so its hind legs rested on the ground she looked at the assortment of objects hanging from nails positioned along the poles. First using a hack saw, that was placed on one of the nails, she removed all four legs and tossed them one by one into the brush. Then taking out her still bloody knife she began to skin the hide off, beginning at the deer's neck, peeling it down the animals back and around what remained of the front legs. Once she skinned past the front legs she pulled the golf ball out of her camo pants pocket. Taking a length of rope of another nail along the poles , she wrapped the golf ball in the hide already skinned off the deer's back.

Tying the rope around both the golf ball and the hide it was wrapped in, she then tied the other end to the hitch of her quad already parked and ready by the tackle poles. Hopping on she turned the key in the ignition and began driving across the clearing at a slow pace. The deer began to lift up until it was almost perpendicular to the ground then the skin began to peel off the muscle and fat. Revving the engine once the skin sudden flew of the animal turned inside out like a wet whitish sock. The deer swung from the pulley back and forth like a morbid pendulum, its hind quarters hitting the trees behind it.

Turning the quad off she stopped it with a firm grip and then raised the deer as high as it could hang so the other animals couldn't get to it, then untying the length of rope from her quad and finally the hide. She picked up the golf ball out of the mess and smiled, she didn't golf but it was defiantly one of her favourite sports. Tossing the skin in the bush after the legs she was done for now, she would let the animal cool over night before deboning and wrapping the meat.

Starting the generator inside the shed the lights flickered inside the cabin before becoming a steady orange glow. It was breakfast time. Today, she thought, I deserve bacon.

It was easy to track the slow paced human back to its home, which he was also grateful for, his leg was still oozing blood out of the poor bandage job he had done using strips of lab coat rinsed in a puddle. His head was still pounding as well, he had left the human bandage job there alone, terrified that if he removed it his brains would come out.

Plus it was cold here and without his shift suit or really even any coverings at all his body was beginning to suffer from it. The only thing he managed to grab in his fleeing was his spear. Where "here" was he couldn't even say but he was free and it needed to stay that way at any cost. Or that meant another test and the next time it was unlikely they would keep him breathing for it. His stomach growled again regardless of the liver he had just ate, free for two earth days and he had barely eaten any more than his captors had fed him. They had kept him weak on purpose and when he finally escaped and had eaten, from an already dead animal to his disgust, only to regurgitate almost immediately.

So when he finally managed to stalk that animal with the antlers that was focused on the females only to have followed it into a soft meats ambush he was only a little pissed off. And by a little it meant he was going to gut the little child maker regardless if it made him a bad blood or not. This was about survival now. However she was interesting, she had killed and gutted the animal with a steady hand, but what really got him interested was when she skinned the animal. It was so... crazy.

This crazy female soft meat used this machine to just rip the skin off, it made him so curious, and would it work on a human? Perhaps he would try it. Maybe on one of those paukers who had captured him. And they would scream through it all. That made him flare his mandibles, what an idea, it gave him an excited chill. So he decided he would watch the human for a while and when she was preoccupied he would cut down the animal and make off with it. Once he was well fed and feeling stronger he would come back to make use of her resources. If he had a medi kit that would happen so much faster, he thought looking at his gimp leg, there was still a bullet in there he needed to remove.

The female had started a machine that generated power and gone inside the building. It looked warm in there, warmer than outside that was for sure, the sun was warming him in his tree outlook but his breath was visible against the chill. His feet and hands were becoming numb so he flexed them trying to make his blood flow to them. It was doing little however, and his thoughts turned toward the fur lined skin of the animal the human had tossed somewhere. On the other side of the clearing. He sighed, he would sneak around the clearing, grab the skin, and return to his tree. Climbing down slowly he hissed quietly at his leg. He landed heavily on the ground, wincing at the thud, so much for being stealthy. He was as clumsy as a youngling. He ran through the trees behind the cabin keeping low to the ground trying to land softly in the dead leaves. What he would give for his sandals, he thought as he stepped on an especially pointy rock, it didn't break the skin but it still hurt. But a loincloth before sandals, his poor boys were freezing down there.