Scar the Predator

Somewhere in the pyramid.

There was no better way to describe it. The pyramid's layout had been completely scrambled, and even the marks left along the way were no help in telling one place from another.

The expedition team Charles and Lex belonged to was in grave danger.

First the Aliens had attacked. Then the Predators had begun hunting them.

Nearly every member of the expedition had been killed, their bodies dragged away by the Aliens to serve as hosts for Facehuggers.

At the critical moment,

Charles, of all people, had found a conscience. He pushed Lex ahead, telling her to go while he stayed behind.

Everyone else had been killed. They both knew a humanoid monster was behind them,

but Lex still could not believe her boss had volunteered to stay.

The triangular mark carved into the stone wall now sat crookedly on the ceiling above them.

Lex ran her fingertips over the cold stone beside her. The passage had been wide enough for two people to walk side by side, but somehow it had narrowed to a slit they could only squeeze through sideways.

The place had lost every trace of the pyramid's orderly design. Each step felt like walking through a shifting maze. Even the air was thick with dust and a faint, strange odor that made her chest feel tight.

Charles coughed behind her. The old man gripped the medicine bottle hidden in his pocket.

As the expedition's backer, he had always carried himself with a cold businessman's air. Now he pushed Lex toward the passage behind him, faint sparks flickering at the nozzle of his flamethrower.

"Go. I'll hold him off." His voice was raspier than usual, and he was still fighting the urge to cough. "I'm already... terminal. Even if I get out, I