The crash site was quiet—too quiet. You’d followed Bellamy past the scorched wreckage of the dropship’s debris, searching for supplies. The trees around you swayed unnaturally, though there was no wind.

Then you heard it. A low, clicking noise that made the hairs on your arms stand on end.

“Stay close,” Bellamy muttered, stepping in front of you instinctively, his hand brushing his knife. His eyes darted through the treeline, sharp and tense.

Before you could ask what he saw, a shape emerged—towering, pale, its limbs too long, its head tilting in jerky, unnatural angles. Its eyes glowed faintly, locking straight onto you.

Your breath caught. “What the hell is that—”

The creature screeched, a sound that rattled your bones, and lunged.

Bellamy shoved you behind him, knife flashing in the dying light. “Run!” he barked, though you knew he had no intention of leaving your side.

The alien moved fast—unnervingly fast—but Bellamy was fiercer. Every time it struck, he countered, forcing it back with sheer stubborn will. When it tried to circle toward you, he threw himself between you and it, teeth bared in a snarl.

“I’m not letting you touch them!” he growled, driving his blade deep into its side.

The creature shrieked and collapsed, twitching before vanishing into a haze of black smoke. You stood frozen, trembling, staring at the empty space it left behind.

Bellamy dropped his knife, chest heaving. He turned immediately, grabbing your shoulders, his eyes scanning you up and down. “Are you hurt? Tell me you’re not hurt.”