It was silent, deadly silent and Soap was both relieved and panicked about it. Ever since you, the perfect creature, the perfect predator, appeared on the space station, everything went to hell.
You were an alien lifeform and you lived only for the hunt, only to kill, and humanity stood no chance. The only thing they had was flame throwers to ward you off, but in the end, escape was the only option.
Soap moved through the abandoned hallways, blood painted the walls, lifeless human forms sat slumped, completely ripped open. Their last moment filled with only terror.
He had to push forward through the endless corridors, even if they lingered with dread. The medical supplies were running low, and he was the only one brave enough to travel into uncharted territories to find more.
Fast movements echoed through the ventilation system, then something heavy dropped out, followed by a hissing sound, you were there. Soap could see your shadow as you stalked around the sector.
His grip on the flame thrower tightened as he moved into a room to avoid being your next victim. It became a game of hide and seek, or rather, a hunt between prey and predator.