Not Alone
Lightning Strike did not like this place. It was too dry, and far too cold for his comfort. The hunt was not about comfort or caution or ease but he still preferred to hunt those places where it was pleasantly moist and warm.
He also did not like that he was where he was forbidden to be. It burned him, deep within his pride, but he knew that he was not ready. Not for this world, or this prey. He had only passed two mating cycles since he had earned his name and his mark, the distinctive jagged line that was burnt into the flesh above his left eye when he earned his place as an adult in his first hunt and was mirrored on his face mask, and only the most seasoned greatest hunters amongst all the clans were allowed to hunt this world. Even amongst the greatest hunters of his race those few that hunted these grounds died here as often as not, although they followed the oldest laws and only hunted in those places that the prey themselves sent their warriors.
There was no war here. No fight. No warriors facing one another. This place, this city was filled with the weak, the old, the young, and those like the corpulent prey that Lightning Strike now watched. It was a nest area, dishonorable to hunt within even if the world were not forbidden to one so unseasoned as he and those on his ship.
It was Burning Star's fault. The great hunter had come aboard the ship and forced them to a world none but he and his two brothers could hunt on because of the ancient beacon. At least the escape craft had not landed him near the Old Temple. It was built long ago in the middle of a great jungle, where the heat of the day made the pools of water from the nightly rains steam. Now, it sat miles below ice. As cold and dry as where Lightning Strike was now, it was a comfortable rain forest compared to the hellish conditions near the Temple. The prey had returned to the temple, they had issued the challenge, and damn Burning Star to the hell of cowards and hunters of the immature for choosing to answer.
He was dead, and he carried the Hard Meat spawn on board the ship in his chest. The ship was gone because of him, and the incompetence of those that went with him. Now Lightning Strike waited for rescue, on a world he was forbidden to step foot apon no matter the reasons.
He should not be there, and despite the blood lust and call to hunt screaming in his blood he would not fall to temptation and slaughter the prey. He will wait, he will bear the shame of rescue, and when he has proven himself greatest of all his kind he will return and hunt worthy prey amongst the natives.
His will was iron in its resolve to not break the taboos, especially as he watched the corpulent one and its mate. They were blessed with two spawn that had lived long enough to wander on their own, but treated them very differently. The larger one they over indulged, he had the makings of a warrior but without discipline or a better diet he would never be more than the largest and slowest of prey. The runt, they kept him from the food that would allow him to perhaps outgrow his runtish nature. They forced on him the work and discipline that would have made his nest mate a great warrior five fold and beat him for no reasons that Lightning Strike could see.
How these creatures could be the prey so fearsome that even the greatest of his kind would oft never return from hunting when they acted so he could not see. That he wanted to skin the corpulent one for his ineffective rearing skills had, he would admit only to himself, some small part in his own nature and birth as a runt. That he was born runt in a litter of 6, and was the only one to survive to the age where a future hunter was allowed his first weapons, was a testament to his will.
Beyond his fierce nature, and killer instincts, Lighting Strike was also curious. When his blood lusts were sated he still burned with the desire to know, to understand. It made him a better hunter. Of all those on his first hunt he was the first blooded, and the most successful, because he had burned with the desire to understand the Hard Meat years before he even began to crave the hunt. He could predict their every move, every action, and reaction more so than many of the guides that were part of that first hunt.
Now, he burned to understand this prey. If he could know them, understand them, then when he earned the right to hunt this world he would be amongst those that returned from his hunts here. That is why he moved closer, checking his cloak to ensure he was invisible as he approached the nest so that he could study the prey.
The runt was outside in the fenced in area near the nest. The sun had already set and the small thing shivered in the night as its family refused it entrance to the nest. Why? Why was it forced out of the nest? Why did it stay if it was not welcomed? He had to know these things! Curiosity burned ever brighter as it closed nearer the nest.
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Boy did not understand what he had done this time. That was not new. He often did not know the rules, or that they had changed when they did. The difference was that Uncle and Aunt would usually tell him what he had done to deserve punishment. When he needed to be corrected they would yell and berate him for what he had done wrong. This time they did not. At least this time they did not beat him. He even had one of his hidden pears, taken from a tree near the park he could pick a few from every now and then, hidden near the yard where he could get something to eat. At least, if he could get the courage to go get it.
Something was...different. It was not quite wrong but...not right either. He had felt it all day, like some one was watching him only worse. It filled him with dread. Like there was something dangerous nearby. He knew there were no such things as monsters. They were like the dreaded M word, not real and mentioning them would get him a beating that would leave him unable to move for days. No there were no monsters, but if there were he thought that this would be what it would feel like if they were near.
His every sense was on alert. He strained to see, or hear, or even smell all he could in the dark cold night because he was sure that there was something out there. Was that a twig breaking? Did the neighbor's tree just rustle because of something other than the wind? What was that hum, and faint clicking noise? He was nearly paralyzed and felt as if he were going to wee his pants in fear when it happened.
There was a flash of light, as if a barrier around the yard had flared to life. It reminded him of the space show that Dudley sometimes watched, when something struck the force fields around the ship. Boy really wished it had been like that when he saw what had caused the flash. It was shaped like a man, but bigger, and had seemed to appear out of thin air mid-leap over the fence. Even Uncle would look small as Boy did next to the thing. It was green and yellow, and was nearly naked, with its hair in dreadlocks and a blank metal face with glowing eyes. No, that was a mask...a mask that had a lightning bolt etched on it in just the same place as his scar!
He went from wanting to scream, and run, and hide too...not knowing what to do as soon as he realized that the thing had a mark on its mask like his scar. His had reached up to rub along his forehead near the only mark on him that did not fade within hours staring at the thing.
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Lightning Strike landed softly, far more so than most of his kind could, and let his pride in his stealth grow for a second till he heard it. That soft intake of breath. His mask showed the runts heart beat that had been slowly rising suddenly jumped and he turned to see...that it was staring right where he was. Its eyes were cast wide with what he knew must be strong emotion though he could not guess which one...and then with dread he realized it must be fear.
His cloak had failed! Impossible! There is no way that should have happened. Quickly his mask showed him readings, when he leaped the fence there had been an energy spike that shut it down. These prey did not have that technology! They had scanned the world, there is no way they could have a way to do that! But, they did!
He prepared to retreat. If he left the area, went as far as he could even without the cloak he could hide. If the spawn called out, even if it told its kind what it saw he could reach a place that they would not look for it. That is until it made a noise.
It was not screaming. Or yelling. It did not seem, as far as Lightning Strike could tell to even be making terrified noises. It was soft, almost whispered and a single simple noise. That made him stop. To turn back to the spawn and focus on it, and repeat back the noise.
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"Wait."
"Wait. waiiiit. Waaaaiiitttt."
It was his voice. A recording of some kind. Played back at different volumes, then pitched higher, then lower, then stretched out and distorted. The..the thing was watching him. Was it trying to communicate? Or was it mocking him? Boy would be on familiar ground if it were the latter. But...what if it were the former?
"What are you? Are you a monster, or an alien, or a...a Demon?" Boy had been called all of the above by those in his neighborhood. Aunt herself told people he was a demon. The thing...the creature...whatever it was had a mark like his...was that what he could grow up to be? Was what his Aunt said true and...and he was really a monster left on thier door step and one of his own kind was there too...too...for some reason?
"A demon. A DemoN. A Demon? A DEMON." It repeated back to him in the same way. Was it still mocking him? Or just parroting what it heard? Or...could it be an actual answer? It seemed to hesitate, looking off in the distance as if it heard or saw something there and then turned back to look at Boy and then...up at his forehead. It noticed his scar at last and cocked its head almost questioningly.
The thing reached a hand up to grasp its mask and remove it. It had a face scarier than Boy had ever expected, burning eyes and mocking clicking mandibles with huge sharp teeth and....and a scar just like the one Boy had. It was even in the same place.
He had always liked his scar, it made him different than other people and in a way that was not freakish. Even if Aunt told him he got it in the wreck that killed his drunken useless parents. That this thing, so large and so strong and powerful and scary and dangerous but...for some reason not dangerous to Boy, had one made him feel...special.
Boy was ready to ask the...the demon he guessed to take him with it not to leave him behind with Aunt and Uncle when the yelling started. Yelling, and then streams of light started flying.
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Energy weapons! The prey were not supposed to have those! Every Yautja knew the level of technology of the great prey, they and the Builders did all that they could to ensure that they did not become too powerful.
The first few shots hit him before he could respond, leaving a numb tingling sensation where they hit. Stunning blasts meant to try and capture! Did these prey know about the Youtja? No, this is impossible!
He started dodging and weaving as the blasts changed going from warning shots and attempts to capture to more damaging attacks. He dropped his mask as a wave of energy sliced across his arm. With a hiss of pain and a single roar he made the decision, he would keep to his decision and not hunt. He would not tear these prey who attacked him in half instead he would withdraw.
As he passed beyond the range of the energy barrier that had disabled his cloak it reactivated making him visible once more. He will miss his mask. It was the one he carried before he became an adult, its sensors were far less useful than one he will acquire to replace it, if he is not banished that is, but the micro computer built into it was still loaded with all the lessons of Yautja culture and how to hunt that every young one must learn.
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Moody was concerned. Either his old friend was going senile or thought that he was. Albus was doing all he could to convince those that came with him that the thing that attacked the Potter child was a Death Eater. Moody knew damn well it was not. No damned Death Eater was that size. Whatever it was he never got a good look, but it had to be at least part Giant because the only person that he had ever met that was near that size was Hagrid and that boy was more round and jovial than that thing. It was in better shape than any Auror recruit that he had seen in years, and that was just an assumption made looking at the damned things muscles before it started dodging nearly every spell and disappearing into the night.
The most disturbing thing about the encounter, at least to Moody, was that the others seemed to be buying the line of bull that Albus was laying down. Was he the only one that saw the spray of glowing green blood when he hit that things arm with a cutting spell?
While Albus set the others to checking the area and took the Potter child, and bloody hell now that he got a good look at him he wanted to give that scrawny pup a sandwich, inside to settle him and his guardians Moody moved to take samples of the blood the thing spilt. He was going to take this to every expert that would still talk to him till he found out whatever the hell it was. He was just starting to look for whatever it was the thing had in its hand when they intervened when Albus returned after dealing with the child.
Moody was really hardly listening to his friend as he lead him over to where the thing was standing to show him what he had found when it happened. He hardly had time to curse himself for getting comfortable with Albus around when he heard the spell behind him.
"Obliviate."
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Boy woke up in his cupboard under the stairs. It was early, enough so that Aunt and Uncle were not even awake yet. Something happened...he...was sure of it. He had been locked out, he was supposed to sleep outside but here he was inside and....his cupboard was not even locked.
Sure that he was missing something he left his little cuboard, and went to check on the back yard. He knows something happened there but...but he couldn't remember anything. Torn between trying to puzzle things out more and going back inside to start breakfast he noticed it. Something had disturbed his flowers. Checking on them he found it, a mask that had a lightning bolt just like his scar laying amongst them. Holding it over his face the mask smelt....odd. Not bad but it smelt weird and felt like air was blowing through it. Strange letters like he had never seen before could be seen through its lenses, moving floating around. While looking through it things suddenly changed. He could see himself standing outside at night time!
Boy nearly dropped the mask in surprise, but kept watching as events he could not remember played out in in the mask from the point of view of the person wearing it up until they took off the mask. It was so unfair! He knew something happened and he wanted to remember, he wanted to know, he wanted to understand why or how it recorded things he could not remember so much!
There was a spike of energy, and Boy suddenly felt a sharp stab of pain where his scar was and nearly passed out as his mind was assaulted. Memories, things he saw and did but never remembered after flooded his mind. All of the memories ended the same way, someone pointing a stick at him and saying some odd word.
Boy could hardly process what was happening before he could hear Aunt and Uncle starting to wake. He quickly hid the strange mask that he now was sure was some alien thing left behind for him in his cupboard. Once hidden he all but forgot about the mask while starting his chores for the day.
It would not be for several days till he would have the chance to study and play with the mask, and by then he would have forgotten his wish to know and understand. He would find the mask again and remember it, and be surprised now that when he wore it he could understand the odd noises it would sometimes play as a language. His mind would translate the weird letters into words he could understand. Knowing now the language of the Yautja he would learn from the mask lessons that would shape him, and his destiny to come.