u/BounceCB

The Hand that Rocks The Cradle [Chapter 3]

Hello. Its been a while since i posted the 3 first chapters. This one is a bit larger than the others. I would appreciate it if you could point out any grammatical errors, suggest better word choices, and especially let me know if the plot feels a bit rushed. As always, enjoy the chapter.

Credits to u/SpacePaladin15 , for creating the NoP literary universe.

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[previous]

Chapter 3: The Lair

May 20, 2130

“Admiral, our analysis and projections indicate a high probability of a major incursion in the Tilfish sector. You are ordered to transfer 50% of the Gojid defense fleet, with you in command, as a support measure. Maintain constant patrols and submit to the strategic needs of local command. Make the herd proud with your service during your stay.”

— Nikonus, President of the Federation, in direct communication with Fleet admiral Talrim,prior to the invasion of The Cradle.

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I didn’t understand what happened. One moment I was lunging toward the most horrifying being I had ever seen. The next, it lay dead on the floor, eviscerated. I, drenched in its blood, gazed at its body, unable to believe what I had done. How could a pathetic prey like me have killed a monster like that?

A whimper at my side and a force pressing against my leg reminded me of what mattered. Phima, clinging to me and sobbing, buried her face in my fur, wanting to see nothing of this room. Trying to calm her, I asked in a low voice, “Phima, are you alright? Did it hurt you?”.

“N-no, dad. I’m okay, I-I’m… dad, I was s-so scared! I thought it was going to eat me! It was going to e-eat me! dad…”

“Phima, calm down, everything will be fine. That thing can’t hurt you anymore.” While stroking her quills, I looked around. Fresh blood colored everything, and its intense stench flooded the room. The thunderous noise outside was a sign that the battle was far from over.

“What was that noise just now? This way.”

“I hope that useless fool hasn't killed all the hatchlings. They’re supposed to be for the farms.”

“Keep moving, scum!” “Ugh…”

We both froze in place as deep voices and heavy footsteps approached our direction. With renewed panic, my eyes darted back and forth in desperation, searching for a hiding spot.

The toys closet was slightly ajar. Hurriedly, I took Phima in my arms and silently threw myself inside, closing the door.

Moments later, footsteps and the clicking of claws echoed through the room. A coarse voice spoke
“By the Prophet, what could have killed him like this?”.

A different voice, yet following the same monotonous rasp of the Arxur, followed. “Split up and find it. Don’t eat it; the Colonel will surely want to see it after what happened.”

The sounds of hungry snouts sniffing and eager claws tearing everything apart kept us motionless and silent. I squeezed Phima in my arms, praying they wouldn't check this spot. The dread and anticipation of our death stretched on for several minutes. Footsteps—curiously light, yet with a characteristic rumble against my back—went to and fro. They stopped for a few moments and moved closer and closer in our direction. They came to a halt right in front of us, on the other side of that thin, flimsy wooden door. Small but sharp claws, barely larger than my daughter's, peeked through the gap in the door and slowly began to pry it open until weak rays of light penetrated our darkness.

There it was. An Arxur, roughly half the size of the previous one, stared fixedly at us. No blinking, no turning of its neck to alert the others, nor a twitch of its jaw that betrayed a longing for flesh. It was just watching with the characteristic shyness of a child. My fear partially dissipated at this, replaced now by confusion. What was this being, clearly monstrous yet at the same time scrawny?

A small movement in its hitherto petrified posture startled me, and even more so Phima, who bumped a block with one of her claws, sending it clattering to the floor.

“Did you find something?”

The small one just kept looking at us. I waited for the end of this charade. After a brief but unbearable silence, it spoke. “It’s nothing, I just got a little startled,” it said, in a soft voice and a low, timid tone, unthinkable for its species.

“Cursed defect, you’re wasting my time,” its companion complained, though I couldn't see him. “I don't know how Betterment hasn't taken you yet.”

The small Arxur left, closing the door behind him, leaving me stunned in confusion.

“Follow me. They aren’t here, it’s a waste.”

The footsteps, just as they had approached, faded away until they were inaudible. We remained there, still—very still. In the gloom of that closet, we were attentive to every external stimulus: every change in light, every passing scent, every occasional scream of terror, and every grotesque, wet sound of flesh being torn. There we remained.

...

Night had fallen, and the gloom gave way to near-absolute darkness, countered only by the tiny sliver of light entering through the cracks in the door.

We were thirsty, hungry, and tired, but leaving was not an option. In the distance, the distant roar of beasts warring with each other continued. The Arxur had likely set up camp a few streets away from the nursery, scouring the last remnants of the area for stragglers who hadn't died or fled to who knows where. I wondered when the fleet would come to our rescue. I had never heard of an incursion lasting more than a few hours, and this one had already dragged on for over half a day. I only hoped the ships would arrive soon.
My mind, over time, drifted to that small Arxur. Why didn't he betray us? Was he hoping to prolong our agony, perhaps? I didn't think so. His gaze wasn't the same as the other one's. They seemed like absolute polar opposites. That child, I guessed... perhaps he hadn't awakened the bloodlust inherent in a predator's nature? What was that "defect" they had called him?

Like the thread that holds a weight in its final moments, the tension finally gave way to the intrusion of new footsteps—their vibration against my back was familiar, though their light clicking against the floor was almost imperceptible.
“Uhm, hello?” a whisper said. It continued. “Are you still here?”

I didn't answer. I covered Phima’s mouth and saw, through the small openings, a silhouette I recognized immediately. It was the small one.

“I don't want to hurt you. I swear by the Prophet.”

As I watched him, I could notice his slight trembling, like a child who fears the dark and faces it from under his blankets. With every passing moment, he seemed more like a Venlil than an Arxur. Thinking I would say nothing and let him leave, what he said next struck me.

“If you’re there, say something. Please...” he said, his voice hinting at imminent tears as he spoke. Without knowing why, I left Phima in safety and stepped out. When he saw me, he jumped in surprise and, between sobs—though apparently relieved—he said, “H-hello...”

I said nothing. My eyes scanned his body for a weapon, a claw twitching with anticipation, anything. I was so focused on him that I didn't notice when Phima stepped in front of me.
“Who are you?” she asked. I couldn't believe what she had just done, and I stayed still, not wanting to provoke the predator so close to my daughter.

“I-I’m... my n-name is Zetze,” he replied, looking somewhat downcast.

“Are you here to eat us?” she spoke again, fear seeping through her voice. While this was happening, I slowly approached Phima, seeking to put her behind me. When I was less than a few centimeters away, the small one—now "Zetze"—responded again.

“No!” he said in a loud tone, and realizing it, he regained control. “N-no, I don’t want to eat you. I came to get you out of here.”

Now, I took her by the shoulder and pushed her behind me, continuing the conversation myself, always alert to what he might do. “Why would you want to do that? How do I know if all you want is to play with your food, predator?” I said. Although everything I knew told me this wasn't a person, I felt, deep down, a spark of regret for what I called him. He fell silent for a moment. Then he looked at me again, this time in the eyes. Those eyes that, the more I observed them, the more they resembled my own.

“I’m not lying to you. This isn’t right. They always told me there were no real people in the Federation, but since I arrived, I’ve only seen people. You aren’t the animals they told me you were, and...” that flash of something resembling resolve vanished, and he returned to his previous posture. “I... I just don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”

We stood in silence, at a prudent distance from one another. I sighed, releasing a breath I didn't even know I was holding, and resignedly sat on the floor, leaning against the door. Phima imitated me, clinging to me. He,Zetze, followed the example and also leaned back, shivering from the nerves suppressed all this time. Trying to clear my head, I turned my attention to the window. Through it, the two moons of The Cradle, Ki-ra and Ki-yu, shimmered with whitish light, resembling the eyes of a being that sees all. Thinking about it, that coincidence seemed like a cruel joke of fate, and I let out a hollow laugh, hoping it would relieve something.

“How do you plan to do that?” I replied, incredulous at the promises of a predator, though something in his attitude softened my stony suspicion.

“W-what?” Confused, spoke.

“What you said. How do you plan to get us out of here? From what I could hear not long ago, we’re surrounded.”

Gaining fresh confidence from my initiative,he said. “A camp was set up near here where the guards are stationed. Right now, almost everyone is sleeping.”

No matter how much I searched for an alternative, I couldn't think of anything. If we stayed here, we would die of hunger or be devoured. With no other choice, I stood up.

“Very well, we will follow you. Lead the way.”

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u/BounceCB — 4 days ago

Hello there. Here is the chapter 2.

Note: The more I reread these chapters, the more I feel like something is off. I’d really appreciate it if anyone could point out where I’m failing and what I could improve.

Thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating NoP.

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[Warning]: This memory transcription has been altered for a more pleasant reading experience as part of the Arxur Exchange Program initiated by the Sapient Coalition on March 15, 2165.

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[previous]

Chapter 2: The Battle of the Fangs

Memory Transcription Subject: Phima, Gojid
child

Date [Standardized human time]: May 20, 2130

“The battle began fairly, but it did not end fairly.”
— Jack London, White Fang.

That day began like any other. I woke up facing the wall, and the first thing I saw—as I did every morning—was my Exterminators poster. It always lifted my spirits, imagining myself as an Exterminator protecting the herd from evil, fantasizing about it in both wakefulness and dreams. I caught a scent that flooded the air, and I knew immediately that Dad was cutting my favorite food: Kadew! The pleasant aroma and the comforting warmth of the blankets made me waver, my eyelids undecided on which position to take. The alarm clock ringing, always an instant after I woke up, resolved the dispute by waking me up for good, and I silenced it with a slap. It must have been quite a blow that time, because Dad spoke from the living room.

“Phima! What did I tell you about hitting things?” he said, his tone somewhere between a reprimand and amusement.

“Shorry, Dad!” I shouted tiredly from my bed.

After that moment, I got up and opened the door. I can never emphasize that smell enough; it intensified as if to signal the happiness those short years gave me. I walked following that essence and saw my father watching the morning news on his holopad, with two plates on the table—one already empty and the other full of Kadew and other fruits waiting for me. I ran over eagerly and, sitting down with a leap, began to gulp down my breakfast greedily.

“Slow down, you could choke,” Dad would say, though he knew he could never do anything to calm my appetite. “I’ll be a little late picking you up today, so can you stay with your teacher and wait for me?”

“Okay, Dad.”

“Very well. Now finish that plate; you have to get there early today.”

We each took our time: him reading every curious thing he found on Bleat—the then-new social network—and me stretching out every bite of my food, not wanting the flavor to end and not wanting to go to daycare either. After long minutes, I finished my plate and Dad washed both. I grabbed my backpack, stuffed with pins from the animated series and movies we watched, and he grabbed his bag. Walking to the door, hand in hand, he opened it and the glare blinded me for a few moments…

Time skip [5 human hours]…

When the assault began, I was in my classroom with my classmates and teacher. They were playing one last game before it was time to be picked up. I was off to the side, as usually no one was very interested in me. This must have been due to the rumors among the parents about my father’s “illness.” They told their children not to come near me, believing it might be contagious. I didn’t understand what that meant, so all I could do was hide, letting time pass without anyone looking at me with that obvious fear, as if I were some drooling beast from a show.
I was behind some boxes, making noises and inventing a fight against a predator from my imagination, when a terrible thud was heard.

THUMP!

Everyone fell silent immediately, pressing themselves against the walls, tables, chairs, and anything within reach. The teacher, paralyzed in the center of the room, walked slowly toward the window, step by step, until she looked at the sky through the glass. Her trembling, previously hard to notice, had now turned her into a post that looked like it would collapse with the slightest breeze.
She backed away stumbling until she hit one of the walls. She was breathing in alarm, which frightened several of my classmates, and they began to cry, looking around for their parents who should have been on their way. She tried to stay calm, telling us that nothing was happening, that everything would be okay. Immediately, impacts almost as loud as the first one were heard outside the daycare, and with that, hell broke loose.
Our teacher, terrified, ran out through the hallways followed by a horde of children and adults. Windows began to shatter and unimaginable screams were heard from every direction.
Splashes, dull thuds, and sounds that turned my stomach were all that existed. Arxurs entered my classroom, and although I knew what was happening—and now I know even better—I didn’t dare look. I didn’t even dare move a single quill; I just stayed there, motionless, pleading the silent prayers I saw my father make to the Protector in front of a picture of Mom. I was there for a long time, listening to the Arxurs prowling the place. One of them, hungrier than any other, returned to my hiding spot, scavenging the bodies of the other children on the floor. Feeling his shivering breath, his nostrils searching for every sign of life, the drumming of his claws against the floor tiles. All of it produced a terrifying fear in me, a shiver that ran through all my spines, making them chatter.

The Arxur turned in my direction, and knowing I was there, he began to laugh. On the other hand, I stopped praying to The Protector and only prayed for my dad and his help. He drew closer and closer, slowly scratching the floor as he went. Amidst tears and moans, I heard claws approaching at high speed. I closed my eyes, waiting for the end. But it never came.

Opening my eyes, I was still alive, so I peeked my head over my hiding spot. There he was, my father, lifting a spasmodic Arxur over his shoulders, impaled on his claws and clawing at the air to break free. It continued to struggle, but after a few seconds, it stopped moving, stopped breathing, and its eyes ceased their wandering. He only remained there, now anointed in iron-scented blood.

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u/BounceCB — 14 days ago

Hi there. Thanks for the support of to the chapter 0. I was afraid of start writing, so it helped me very much.

In other news, from now on I will be using the incredible chronology of u/jesterra54 . That said, I would be grateful to anyone who points out any grammatical or timeline errors.

Thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NoP literary universe.

With all that said, I hope you enjoy the story.

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Chapter 1: The Trail of the Meat

May 20, 2130

“Predator Disease is an ailment that manifests in myriad forms and is contracted through just as many avenues. Even after approximately a millennium since its discovery, it remains a medical enigma. Due to the significant recent surge in cases—primarily on The Cradle—specialized Zurulian teams have conducted experiments on substantial samples, the results of which were cross-referenced with field data obtained by countless PD containment centers. These have been unable to pinpoint a single determinant for this condition. However, certain conclusions can be drawn which, though preliminary, are of unquestionable value toward the development of a cure:

As is widely established, Predator Disease is commonly a mental affliction that can exhibit physical signs in its most advanced stages. According to the data consensus, it can be contracted via airborne transmission, ingestion, physical contact, bodily fluids, sexual relations, and even—for reasons yet unknown—through social interaction with PD patients. True to its enigmatic nature, its behavior is simultaneously that of a psychological pathology and a viral agent. Furthermore, despite being primarily infectious, it has also proven capable of being transmitted from generation to generation.

The varied behavior of the disease makes it unpredictable, as has already been noted in previous studies, and given that even with today’s technology we are unable to cure it (despite sporadic 'results' in containment centers), we at the federal public health commission strongly recommend the immediate containment of all PD patients in all their forms and degrees, registered and yet to be registered, in order to prevent this from becoming a pandemic of catastrophic proportions.”

— Berni, President of the Federal Public Health Commission at the Aafa Summit, 2129.

I ran as hard as I could. I didn’t even feel the burning in my chest from the exertion. All I could think about was Phima. She is all I have left in this world. I can’t let them take her too.

I reached the avenue that separates the residential area from the city center. Everything was chaos. Clouds of suffocating smoke, hundreds of people running terrified, crushing one another without pause or concern for those beside them, while Arxurs from ships plummeted from the skies hemmed them in, occasionally scratching with blade-like claws at stomachs, faces, backs, or knees, spinning them around at their mercy. This grotesque panorama unfolded without anyone present noticing me. Overcoming the urge to heave everything onto the ground, I pulled myself together and continued with cautious haste. Walking through the alleys, I could see Arxur patrols in the streets, and inside the buildings, horrifying screams could be heard, spontaneously extinguished. I didn’t stop for any of them. Knowing what had happened to their owners and what would likewise happen to me if I remained there, Ikept moving.

The complex was in front of me, with its enormous doors and its three main blocks evident from the outside. Designed to provide a sense of calm to the pups, it resulted in an amalgam of colorful curves and spheres, with occasional padded corners for safety. I had often felt that same sense of calm myself, though this occasion was an exception. Its usual clamor had been replaced by a deathly silence, and its bright colors dulled by a trail of blood, flesh, and viscera. With my heart in my throat, I stepped inside.

The corridors bore witness to a massacre, and with good reason. The nauseating smell of blood and other remains suffocated me, and the half-devoured bodies of pups and teachers presented a sight I wouldn’t be able to escape even in my dreams. For a moment, I thought I recognized Phima’s caretaker, but I couldn’t be sure given the condition of her body.

I could barely hold back the tears, knowing that my little one had most likely died—desperate and begging for me to save her, trapped in this place, no different from a pen. I might have even walked right past her corpse without even noticing.

I walked for a long time, wandering aimlessly through the building, unable to think. Minutes, hours, or perhaps more could have passed; I couldn’t distinguish one from the other. My eyes and mind were clouded. Finally, I fell to my knees, clawing at my face with my talons until cobalt blue covered them. I searched for reasons why this was happening to me, and all paths led back to myself. If only I hadn’t been born with this despicable form, I could have had a better life, and we wouldn’t have had to live in this town on the outskirts, and the raid would never have reached us, and…

“Sniff.”

What was that? A pup? Impossible, in this hell. Had this cursed disease already begun to take my mind as well?

“Sniff.”

No, this was no illusion. I snapped out of my stupor and rushed forward. I ran through that now-labyrinth, making turn after turn, each more tortuous than the last, and the closer I got, the more I recognized that lament. My daughter. At a certain point, there was also another sound—one that I unfortunately also recognized. The unmistakable laughter of an Arxur. Rage began to fill me. Was he planning to eat my little girl right in front of me? Instantly, I turned the last corner, and there I was.

In front of me, Phima was crouched in a corner, hidden behind some boxes, her quills protruding and chattering from the trembling. Between us was the predator, with bloodied jaws, filled with embedded needles, holding the head of a small Gojid to one side. This triggered an immediate convulsion of hatred within me. And for an almost infinitesimal moment, I felt it. A pulse that traveled through every corner of my being, from the neurons behind my eyes, leaving in its wake fibers upon fibers electrified on its way to the soles of my feet still in motion,and I did the first thing that came to mind.

I lunged at the monster.

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u/BounceCB — 15 days ago