This is part of a project to touch up and publish an older series of works I had done in the past, placing them on Literotica. There are quite a few parts, so they will seem repetitive as more are updated, and since they are not being completely revised, they will show their age. There will also be some questionable content, and due to said age, may not be presented in the most palatable manner, as much as I may have believed I did those years ago. Please keep this in mind.
* * * * *
Once upon a time, Phoebe felt calm and comfort from monitoring the various security screens of her station, seeing through the eyes of hundreds of cameras scattered all throughout the colony, able to pick out faces with the recognition software, see all that was going on in her home, catch those breaking the rules and generally be able to help maintain the order of her colony.
She liked it peaceful, and quiet, when things were going smoothly and she could just get lost in the daily flow of people through the halls her screens overlooked, not paying any real attention to what they were doing, just that they were doing things smoothly, peacefully. It was oddly relaxing to her.
Now, her cameras, what of them that remained operational, brought her only fear and horror; seeing fellow members of the CPA screaming as sharp hands dragged them into vents or flung them into the shadows, civilians snatched away and pulled where she couldn't possibly track them with the cameras, and seeing screens blackout as malfunctions or sabotage knocked them out.
Worse, switching to thermal imaging did little to reveal the nature of these creatures; they barely emitted any heat, vague flashes and silhouettes appearing as they grappled with helpless, burning white figures of humans... before something happened to them, and the humans just went limp, easy prey for the creatures, effortlessly carting them off to god knows where before they left the field of view of whatever camera she was looking through.
She'd been trained on how to coordinate the Security Agents of the CPA in the event of an attack or major incident, but she'd grown complacent. She panicked when it happened, and worse, her superiors were not conveying orders. It had been a sudden ambush, catching everyone unawares, and when they were most vulnerable, during system checks and maintenance. That's how they had avoided the motion trackers... though when they did come back online, it did nothing to improve the situation.
By then, the colony had been plunged into quiet chaos; communications had ceased, everybody dropped what they were doing as panic ensued, and they were picked off one by one, two dots on the motion tracker screens merging into one, and being taken deep into the ground, below the colony. Now, there were few dots creeping around the abandoned halls that Phoebe could conclude were humans... many more were roaming about the colony in ways and in places humans couldn't.
And all she could do was watch as the few remaining human dots on the trackers, sometimes with the odd appearance of a colonist on the security monitors, slowly dwindled and were taken away. She wanted to pick up her phone, access the PA system, and guide them to safety, but... where? The one place she thought they would be safe was not accessible to her, that place being the Weyland-Yutani laboratory. She could've guided them there and... then what? They wouldn't have been able to get inside, and they would be easy pickings.
She jumped as she heard gunshots on one of her camera screens, turning around in her chair so she could bare witness to one of the few remaining CPA agents firing his pistol wildly, any semblance of training gone in the face of the monsters that now effectively owned the colony, and she watched as he was grabbed in a blurry, dark flash, too fast for even the cameras to get a good look, dragged down a hallway where the lights had gone off, one final flash from his gun as he screamed in terror, illuminating a dark shape for a brief moment before the gun was knocked from his hand, skittering across the floor and coming to a stop against a wall, before his cries were silenced.
Phoebe sunk her face into her hands, stifling a sob. She wanted to help, but... she couldn't. She was afraid. Scared that she would give herself away, and give away those trying to make their way through the colony, no longer a place familiar to them, no longer a place that was safe. And even if she could muster the courage to speak, the PA and intercom systems were unstable as well, so there was no way that would even work. Most of the speakers were offline, the creatures seemingly disabling them wherever they could, their intelligence disturbing to Phoebe.
They behaved like animals, ambushing from the shadows and from angles people least expected an attack to come from... but they seemed to have an understanding of technology and tools, just enough to counter them and disable them. It allowed them to pass through doors that were not locked, and smash out light sources and break the speakers so they could prevent their prey from being warned in any sort of manner, before they walked straight into an ambush. She couldn't do anything, but watch... and, selfish as it was, hope she would be overlooked by these things long enough that any rescue vessel that came would be able to find her... after she warned them, of course... if she could warn them.
She rose from her seat, choking down a strained groan of frustration and fear, clenching her fists. She looked about the room she was in; several other desks and security stations filled the long, rectangular room, the nerve centre of the colony's security monitoring system. There was a similar, smaller room at the barracks for the on-site Colonial Marine squad, though she suspected they had fared no better, spying their Sergeant -- Degtaryev, she thought it was -- stalking through the halls with pistol in hand, but Phoebe had long since lost any visual contact with the woman, same with this one other marine who had managed to get into full kit... both were probably gone, or dead.
The Security room was... quiet. It was just her, the rest out getting lunch or doing errands, and running when chaos ensued. Mugs still sat on the desks, half-drunk and filled with cold, stale coffee. Papers, notebooks and PDAs remained on the tables where they'd been abandoned. The only food and drink Phoebe had being a portable mini-bar on a small cart, meant to keep those in the centre hydrated with water along with some dehydrated fruit. How long it'd last with just her here, she didn't know... but she suspected she'd be needing it... not like she'd be sharing it with anyone.
Everyone had been twitchy for a few weeks, since people started disappearing and no one knew where they had gone or how they vanished, which put pressure on the CPA since none of the cameras saw anything... despite the extensive coverage, there were still a
lot
of places yet to see a camera installation. The CPA was under pressure, a lot of questions were being asked, and there were no answers to them... and now, it didn't matter.
Phoebe paced back and forth, her brown hair falling down in front of her face, letting her know the hair-tie she was using had come loose. She paused, looked for it on the ground, and then decided she didn't care enough to bother; she liked her order, but tying her hair up wasn't going to make things better. She was alone, and without any options other than to wait... and hope to whatever deity existed in the universe that those things couldn't get through the door.
She walked over it, checked its locking mechanism, double-checked it, and triple-checked it, feeling like she was developing OCD there and then. She paced back and forth, grumbling to herself and wiping away non-existent sweat on her forehead, a bad habit she had when she was stressed out... and she was most certainly stressed out right now.
The woman walked over to a wall, and slumped down against it, tucking her knees up against her chest and groaning in frustration. She could do nothing, absolutely nothing, and it was eating away at her. Hell, she didn't even have a gun, the CPA not requiring her to pass any firearms training for a position as a security monitor. What was she going to do, throw mugs if they got inside?
She thumped the back of her head against the wall quietly, whimpering softly.
"What are you going to do?" she muttered to herself. "It wasn't supposed to be like this..."
She'd been here only for a few weeks, just before the first disappearances started, but she'd made herself thoroughly comfortable. She'd hoped to make enough money at this job to return home to Earth and get involved in an investment venture, and retire early.
She was only 41 years old, and with how long-lived humans were compared to around the turn of the 21st century, she was looking pretty good, as some of her colleagues had remarked, possessing barely a wrinkle on her face. But now... she wasn't sure she'd be leaving this place alive... or at all.
She sunk her face into her knees a second time, before she heard an odd sound coming from one of the monitors. Phoebe looked up with a confused expression, blinking. It sounded like... moaning? Grunting?
Curious, she rose to her feet, and slowly approached the monitor making the noise... and promptly let out a shocked gasp once she saw what was happening on the screen.
It was one of the colonists, some man unfamiliar to her, and one of those... '
things'
. But it wasn't trying to slaughter him, mutilate him or tear him limb from limb. It was atop of him.
And they were having
sex
.