I walk this empty street

  On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

  Where the city sleeps

  And I'm the only one, and I walk alone

  I walk alone, I walk alone

  I walk alone, I walk a-

  My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

  My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

  Sometimes, I wish someone out there will find me

  'Til then, I walk alone

  From by Green Day

  Jablib, Yulpa politician, Grenelka, 1-Janus-36 (Old Human Calendar: December 26th 2044)

  [memory transcription included in the file: “Operation: Spirit of Death”]

  [classified, for your eyes only]

  I lie in bed as the rain falls softly in the forest outside my windows, the stillness of my home it’s like a warm blanket. The pups are at the sanctuary learning to assist in their first sacrifice. I almost miss their joyous chaos, but I cannot lose myself in these wasteful thoughts. I need to use this time to prepare, the Spirit of Life demands action, for way too long we have ignored the predator infestation across the border, and we are clearly being punished for it.

  Each day, more students protest, their minds poisoned by smuggled media, more exterminators quit due to the increased workload, more predator diseased patients are discovered, and, above all, a new planet gets infested by the mold. I hear that in some distant colonies people are starting to starve, while discontent increases everywhere about the rationing.

  As I sip from a cup of tea that my sivkit servant left on the nightstand, I read the reports and shake my maw. A new load of suppositions and questions about our enemies. I tried to push for more direct action, to intervene before the cursed get too strong. I even convinced some ship captains, faithful to me, to cross the zone. All for nothing. Each time cowards sabotage my efforts, and no ship has ever returned.

  With the corner of my eye, I notice a shadow, barely visible. A spirit more than a creature of flesh and bone. A shiver runs through my spine, from the way it looks at me, I understand, it’s a predator. I try to reach my panic button…

  “I wouldn’t bother if I were you. Nobody will answer,” it growls, a paw moves to its collar, and its horrible snout emerges from midair, almost floating. A satisfied snarl on its lips.

  “So are you going to try to kill me, predator?”

  “I already did,” it says, looking briefly to my cup, a snarl growing on its lips.

  “So are you here to gloat?”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Yes, and to make sure that you die knowing that all your efforts were for nothing.”

  “So you are really buying time, deceitfully hiding your strength,” I mumble, my thoughts increasingly confused, my tongue heavy.

  “Of course we are, and you’ll die today knowing that one day, hopefully soon, everything you hoped for will be nothing but dust and sorrow. And this dumpster of a planet will be a shining ball of glass.”

  “Of course, you predators yearn for that. That’s all you care for: destruction and death,” I manage to whisper.

  The last thing I see is its white teeth near my ear.

  “Fiat justitia ruat caelum”

  A vague growl that my implant doesn’t catch. My brain barely perceives it.

  And then I fall. All is dark, like a starless night. The last thing I feel is a lake of despair.

  [transcription interrupted]

  [no more transcriptions for this subject]

  +++

  Recording of: Jo March

  Race: Harchen

  From the project: Unofficial Collaborators, the Silent heroes of the Republic

  It rained the day that my life changed. The day that I took my life in my hands, in which a weak prey died and a predator was born. It had been three circles since I was stuck in that hell, my life ruined, my dreams shattered, and my herd lost. I could see the disdain of the Zurulian and Yulpa doctors torturing me, a filthy refugee, not only stealing precious resources in a time of need, but also infecting with my presence the planet that welcomed me.

  Welcomed. Well, that’s a funny word, since The Destroyer had devastated my world, I knew nothing but running. When, finally, my family moved to Grenelka, and my father started working as an exterminator, it seemed like a new beginning. But it was there that I started to question things.

  It was a slippery slope, at first it was the desire to watch an animated movie; even the concept was incredible, given how expensive art supplies were. A few friends in a quiet cellar. With the constant fear of being caught. It was beautiful, but scary as only predators' art can be. But above all, confusing: how could predators have a story about family love and the need to escape as a herd to freedom?

  After that, I grew addicted to them and started watching increasingly dangerous movies. The one that shattered my world was called simply Medusa. When I bought it, the dealer gave me a strange look, but I didn’t get why at the time. I simply thought it was about a mythical creature from predator mythology. Oh, skies if I was wrong.

  It was the story of The Destroyer, from when she started her hunt after the Federation attacked Earth, through her actions in the war, and finally her ascent to Chief Huntress. The story concluded with her celebrating our defeat. After I watched that, I started questioning everything. Were we the victims or the perpetrators? Did we really need to attack Earth? Did my species doom itself by attacking Wriss? These questions pushed me to be more outspoken, to quietly look for more dangerous questions.

  But let’s go back to the moment everything changed. I remember trying to steady myself. Repeating this sentence in my mind over and over, I’m a predator, and predators feel no fear. I quietly waited for the shift change, before quietly cutting the bed sheets. I used a shard of glass from the window that broke when my former roommate banged his head on it, those desperate Venlil screams were long a part of my nightmares after they dragged him away.

  That tiny piece of glass had been the source of my hopes for months, first I quietly used it to weaken the bars on the window, night after night. While I observed the movements of the exterminators, trying to imitate an Arxur stalking its prey. And now it was time to act. To use the rain and the dark to hide my escape.

  The rope was ready, I started to push the bars quietly, they moved but way too little. I pushed harder and scrang they fell below. I quickly start climbing across the window, but I make too much noise. The door flings open and they rush toward me. I kick one and without thinking I stab the other with the glass. There is blood everywhere, the other rushes towards me and I think I hit him as well.

  The next moments are blurry in my mind, the next thing I remember is being in an alley panting. And there from the corner of my eye I notice something, or do I? I thought it was my fear speaking until something drags me behind a dumpster.

  A paw goes to my snout as I hear a low growl: “One sound and you are dead”.