Species - Retribution part 1

1

The burning obsession of finding out his purpose in life wasn’t bothering him at the moment. The Outbreed was having far too much fun trying to plait the still warm entrails.

The task calmed him, it stilled his mind.

It was not as easy as he first thought, The pipes, which he had ripped from the discarded corpse, were long enough, strong and very flexible but he couldn’t get his fingers to carry out the delicate weaving technique needed to finish his artwork.

He slowly came to the conclusion that killing must be better than sex, not that he had ever performed the task of mating or ever will. He had experimented with himself recently and he supposed it would be pretty much the same. The Outbreed had done quite a few things recently, like dispatching seven heavily armed Velicion warriors, The corpses were hanging above him on meat hooks that the previous owner of this forgotten building kindly left, which the Outbreed found convenient and useful. The pipes were beginning to irritate him now. No he shouldn’t think like that, he should find it challenging. Although The Outbreed did see it as ironic that he could quite easily slaughter a small number of Velicions who are twice weight of him and three times taller than him, natural predators. Toughened hide, sharp teeth and formidable talons. The top of the food chain. Yet he couldn’t even plait three lengths of tubing together.

He looked down at his naked little body and chuckled. ‘I am a harmless herbivore. I am no threat to you’

Maybe he should try the guts from another body. He did have another six bodies to choose from and plenty of time.

2

The vast double doors slowly opened. A small mud brown, furry creature padded into the Governor’s eating room. As usual the crude pictures, which hung on the grey stone walls from both sides showing his species and other unfortunate victims craved up, dismembered and mutilated, still unnerved him. How often had he wondered if the paintings sprang from someone’s sick and twisted imagination or were actual scenes painted from memory? The slave had once heard a rumour that the pictures actually portrayed slaves been punished in this very house. He didn’t really believe that. Maybe it was another one of those stories the elders told to the young slaves to make sure they behaved. He couldn’t ask any of the others, they wouldn’t talk to him, for some reason they thought he was favoured and so consequently whenever he was in the company of the house slaves they fell silent until he moved away. He tried to keep his eyes averted and to concentrate on his task. Each day here left him physically and emotionally drained. A day closer to his final fate. Every slave knew that their life would be short from the day they were born, it was something you lived with. He was always told that life, specifically his life, was precious and not to waste a single day which was very hard to believe when every day could be your last. He dared to look up for a second, his current master appeared to be in a better mood today, and perhaps he would live a day longer after-all.

The Bayan slave tried not to tremble as he laid the heavy platter down before his master. He cast his eyes to the marbled floor and hoped that the meal would plead his Vel-Dion Governor.