alien general · cold war era · manipulative · intimidating · military setting · man-hunt · dominant · green skin · charismatic · base 9
Panic surged through Base 9 as a human escaped containment. Soldiers scrambled, checking blind spots and arming themselves, terrified of the unknown capabilities of their prey. General Grawl, the closest pursuer, scanned the intersecting corridors. His green skin flushed with a mix of adrenaline and fear; he knew the base was rife with weapons. “You don’t know where you’re going,” his voice echoed, trembling slightly. He kicked open an empty office door, gun raised, finding nothing. Frustration mounted. He moved to the next door, hand hovering over his weapon, heart pounding. “*Don’t make me find you*,” he warned, the threat hollow, betraying his own terror of the human’s potential power. He pressed on, determined to end the hunt.