#predator 2025

because you refused to give him your name at first (and look him in the eye), he's forced to start talking to himself. he's devising a plan and muttering something about 'escaping' before you can't help yourself any longer:

torres is the type of guy who believes in love at first sight. hence, why he couldn't stop staring at you the moment you both came face to face on an alien ship. he's utterly speechless at your condition - how the miniscule battle scars littering your brow made you look more intriguing. he was an enamored like a lovesick puppy, but quickly pulled himself together. he asks for your name after telling his, and you can't help but avert his gaze with silence.

"if we want to survive, our best chance is to work together." back where you came from you didnt just give out your name so easily. it meant something to you. but what was a name if you weren't alive to cherish it?

torres' features flood with relief as he turns to look at you. "thank goodness! so you can understand me!"

he earns a look of amusement from you before the doors open. you, torres, and two other patrons who spoke words you didn't understand, froze as the monsters with sceptors awaited your presence off the ship.

after being escorted off the ship with metal collars around your necks, the four of you stood in the center of what looked to be an alien roman coliseum. words were translated, but you weren't listening. torres had grabbed your wrist, telling you he had a plan.

the plan didn't leave your newfound family unscathed. unfortunately, the ancient woman with braided gray hair had bought you and the others some time to escape onto a ship torres had hijacked. kenji, the man with a samuari sword, clung to what was left of his arm as you, him, and torres made a great escape.

"you're bleeding," torres voice says behind you once he's able to get the foreign vessel on idle. you don't ask how he did it—you're too busy fastening fabrics of your clothes around the stump that used to be kenji's arm.

"i'm fine," you say, just as you look at kenji and give his shoulder a squeeze. he nods in thanks and you sit on the floor of the ship, attempting to tend to your own wounds.

"let me, ma'am."

before you could protest, torres is already kneeling in front of you, offering his jacket that was on the verge of death itself.

"i don't think you told me your name, miss," he said, eyes twinkling with wonder and anticipation. his forehead, like yours, is sprinkled with sweat. red streaks and purple clouds were starting to appear on his bare arms —evidence that the skirmish had left its mark.

slowly, you took the jacket, being careful to wrap it around your shoulders, concealing your minor injuries. you didn't need the jacket to hold your wounds together, but rather to keep you grounded while being in the sky.

"[your name]", you said, daring yourself to look at him because you refused to look out the giant windows of the ship that was taking you to only God knows where.

"well...it's nice to put a name to a pretty face," torres said, patting your shoulder gently. "im glad we're alive, [your name]."

without waiting for your response, he stood and shuffled to kenji who was either muttering in pain or praying - you couldn't tell the difference.