Me too, Saffa. America is full of people like them, unfortunately. And they ain't going away anytime soon, I'm afraid.
New chapter.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Om Nom Nom Nom!
When Noelle had returned, she didn't immediately demorph. Psycholepterran are useful as battle morphs, if only for their mesmerizing abilities. She looked around, and spot the the others gazing at something, looking revolted.
She looked round and saw that the Xenophage had decided that it played with its food long enough. It was devouring Niss in an overly loud and overtly oleaginous way. It was a revolting, vile thing to hear, much less see. The symbiote had been paralyzed with the incendiary neurotoxic salvia -- which apparently "enhances the flavor" to the Xenophage.
All the RAFians had froze in disgusted shock. This was the inevitable outcome, but it was still an unpleasant sight. You could turn away an not look at it, but you could not block out the sounds -- the oily slurping, the frenzied voice clamoring over "how good it tasted" --they were very pervasive.
Noelle morphed back, trying not to watch, but as soon as her stalk eyes reformed, they were drawn to the sight. Sometimes having stalk eyes were a pain.
Soon (but not soon enough), it was over. Niss was gone. Eaten. Being digested. What a way to go. And yet, somehow, Cloak had the distinct feeling that Horse would not be fazed by this, at least not as much as they were, having been frequently swallowed whole by the Pootang.
It was done and it was satisfied with a full stomach . . . or fuller than it was before. But it was a sensation that apparently did not last long as it then attempted to attack the RAFians again. Seemingly unprovoked, with unnecessary aggression.
"Hey, what a cotton-pickin' minute here," Hunter said, forced to holster his guns, having ran out of ammo. He would have to rely on claws and teeth now. He continued, "You just fed, on nine symbiotes in one no less, so why attack us?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you," it rasped. "Just die."
"No thanks."
"Good, resist. That would make the act of slaying you all the more gratifying!" it rasped rapturously. "Resist me! Fight me! Then die!"
Then it became clear to Cloak. Cloak understood the Xenophage's reaction to attack them. The Realm Walker uttered, "Predatory instinct."
"What?" Gaz said, still firing Laserbeak's shots, but they weren't anymore effective as the ones before.
"Predatory instinct," Cloak said, moving about the battlefield gracefully, attempting to use the elments against this beast, but it would not be dazed or anything. It was more slippery than an eel or a politician. Cloak continued, "Abby, Noelle, Safga. You've all morphed predators, you should be well acquainted with the concept. As should you, Hunter, being a anthropomorphic wolf, and you, Gaz, being a vampire."
"But I suppress those instincts," Gaz pointed out.
"Doesn't change the fact that you're
aware of them." Cloak said, pulling of some moves and techniques that only one with feline agility and flexibility could pull off. He proceeded, "It is this instinct that drives predators to opportunistically hunt when a prey animal presents itself in such a way that it could be overpowered."
"Stop lecturing and die!" the Xenophage grated harshly.
"You clearly know nothing of my physiology," Cloak said, addressing the monster. It had the unintended consequence of confusing the monster, who was thinking that it had something to do with lecturing instead of the Xenomorph being physically incapable of killing Cloak.
