There is one thing that I have prided myself on, even though it seems to constantly get me in trouble: I can sleep through anything. To go along with this, I can also function on a relatively high level of mental capacity without ever waking up. This little trick I usually end up using when I fall asleep on the couch and someone tells me to go to bed.
  However, even when I knew about these two aspects of my sleeping pattern, I was very surprised that I drifted awake crouching in a weirdly lighted space. In fact, the place around me wasn't just strangely lighted. It was downright bizarre. There was no distinct shadow on anything, just a kind of hazy cold color that somewhat outlined the shape of everything around me.
  That was when I noticed that I was also seeing far too much at once -- it was like having your eyes stretched around your forehead. To be precise, that was exactly how it felt, like I was receiving visual information through my head directly.
  This was strange enough when I started flexing parts that I knew my body just wasn't supposed to have. It felt like I had far too much flexibility about how my 'face' and neck turned. My arms felt long and kind of doubled, like I had a shorter version curled up against my chest and longer ones resting on the ground. There was a twitch down the end of my spine that went all the way down what I assumed was a tail.
  My mind took the information and added it up: Strange vision, weird place, feel odd. Okay, it was a dream, not like I hadn't had ones like this before, it's just that I wasn't expecting one quite so... real feeling.
  Okay, so you're having a dream you're something else. What am I dreaming myself as?
  I try to say this but it comes out of my throat as, well, something like a vibration, I think, though I can't quite tell exactly what. This was also accompanied by a feeling that was almost like exhaling, but also reminded me of throwing up. However, it wasn't unpleasant.
  After my attempt to speak an oddly quizzical kind of... 'taste' seemed to float around me. A quizzical flavor? It was like something from one of my stories, where a future alter ego of me is turned into an ant morph. Well, I did seem to have six oddly proportioned limbs. I try to wiggle my fingers and discover that I have two sets of hands. Okay, this along with the tail likely ruled out an ant morph.
  I tilt my head and try to give my entire body a jiggle to find out just what moves and how it feels. This sets off awareness of just how massive I must have been. The overall feel of my body was just huge. I shake my head again, feeling the weight, the way the air drags on it. I had a lot more mass there, some kind of growth going from the back of my head.
  I reach my longer arms up to my face and feel carefully over it, then down my body, to the base of my tail and up again to the oddly smooth crest that grew out from the back of my head. My hands are each quite easily capable of covering my mouth, which seems to be all there is to my face besides a somewhat smooth section where my vision was coming from.
  I had lips or something, I could feel flesh that covered my jaws, and flexed them experimentally with my hand brushing over them and my teeth. Jeez all I had were teeth. And it seemed like my hand was especially hard, and slick with some kind of goo. So was my mouth, the flesh felt very durable like a shell of some kind but also flexible like skin under the gooey stuff on it.
  I also did indeed have another set of arms, much smaller and agile then my longer forelimbs. And my chest and neck seemed to feel almost like a ribcage. The bone and flesh blends of my exterior continued all the way down to my pelvis, were my vertebrae-like tail spread out.
  I flinch just a bit, when I prick my lower lip with a claw from one of my thumbs as I'm bringing my larger hands back up my body and over my face. I try to stick my slightly bleeding lip in my mouth, and find that the muscles just don't move that way.
  Okay, so I try to lick the blood off my lip. That sets off a very weird reflex. My mouth opens, and then it's like a spring coil in the back of my throat goes off and I feel (and kind of see) a length of flesh with what looks like a set of teeth on the end snap shut, about a foot in front of my mouth.
  That sensation of my other set of jaws slamming shut brought a little giddy feeling over me.
  Okay: Large crest, massive exoskeletal body, long tail, four arms (two large two small), extra set of jaws, completely messed up senses.
  "Cool, so I'm dreaming I'm the Queen Alien." The sound of course comes out as some indiscernible kind of tremor in the air, it felt very odd.
  Right, can't talk, the Queen Alien can't talk. But wait, this is my dream, why not? I try to focus on being able to talk, but it still comes out as some kind of odd feeling in the air with a confused flavor.
  All right, so I'm dreaming I can't talk. So what. I've had dreams I can't move. The area around me seems completely devoid of movement.
  Odd, being a big massive alien all alone seems kind of wrong. I should have warriors and guards and things. I mean, this would be a really dull dream, even though it's realistic.
  I look around; the weirdly messed up vision was starting to make sense. The lack of shading was a bit hard to deal with, but after getting over that and the fact of having a much wider field of view (probably something like 200 some degrees), things seemed to make sense.
  It was a rather big place, had to be since I must be around fifteen feet tall. It looked like some kind of aircraft hangar.
  Rather fitting for dreaming you're some alien, but I would have preferred a space ship, I think to myself as I take a tentative step. My body seems kind of reluctant to walk on its hind legs completely. Well, I suppose my imagination hadn't abandoned me after all.
  I drop to my longer arms, and immediately feel more comfortable about moving around. Yes, I had always thought that the Queen would have functioned better as a quadruped for faster locomotion. That is, when she didn't need to be doing something with her longer arms like killing people...
  The very thought of blood suddenly sends a mild shiver of delight through me.
  Wow, wait a second, I've never had a feeling like that before. Maybe sometimes I'd want to hurt someone, but never a sensation of near absolute delight about bloodlust. Not with actually intending to do it anyway, maybe as a kind of act but never really meaning it. I think.
  I shake my head again then stop and turn it to the side, tilting my mouth along with it, so I can get a straight look at the doorway to the hangar.
  It looked like someone had slammed it down into the stone floor so hard that it half crumpled from the impact, and sent cracks through the concrete or whatever it was they used for the flooring in hangars.
  I look around again. It doesn't take very much head movement to see everything to some extent, but I do it anyway to get the best picture of as many details as I can discern.
  Hmmm, seems abandoned. And no high-tech stuff either. Looks kind of modern.
  I tilt my head, a gesture similar to what the Queen does in the movie. So much for originality.
  Then I suddenly stop and scratch at the side of my neck. I find a dent that itches but doesn't really hurt.
  What's that? I mutter to myself in my head. I scratch at it a little, it feels kind of like a scrape or some other mild injury.

  I flinch from the massive explosion. (what was that? a gun?) I feel the impact something small and hot hit the side of my neck. (a bullet? maybe a stone or shard of metal? yes, likely a bullet) I let out a massive exhalation of almost liquid rage into the air, the vibration of it echoing through my throat.
  The prey is making so much extra vibration! The sound is giving away its location even as it stands right there, while two other smaller, simpler, prey echo sharp snaps of sound at me.
  Stupid things! I snarl in my mind, the hate of it billowing from my mouth in an acrid scent. Then I take in a breath, savoring the fear and anger.
  I don't give the foolish prey a chance to attack again; I swing one of my larger clawed hands practically through him. The idiotic creature is easily thrown into the somewhat flat surface of the box nest it came out of, a whole body-length away. (body-length? my body's length? i'm outside... box nest. no, it's a house... in the prey's yard?)
  After that's settled, I turn on the two deliciously fearful quadrupeds. I slam my left hand over one of them, thrilling at the delightful crack of crushed ribs. Then I snap my tail down into the thigh of the other, not even bothering to pull it off of the stinger of my tail when I walk off. I savor the sweet, warm flesh of its companion before flinging both corpses at random targets.
  I will have to find a place to flee, hide, somewhere for me to begin my nest.

  I stumble and would have fallen over if I hadn't been balancing on all four of my 'legs'. The images were like a memory, but it was very odd, like it was someone else's memory.
  I shake my head. Great. Here comes the weirdness my dreams always end up in.
  I brace myself for random events and spiraling looping chaos, but it doesn't come. All that's there is the completely messed up vision of a hangar, and the taste of my own confusion in the air.
  I scratch at the place where the bullet hit my neck. It itched horribly, like there was something lodged in my skin.
  I would have blinked if I still had eyes. Instead, I let out an exhalation of something like 'ooh'. I had just dug the bullet out of my neck armor where it had lodged from the impact, and damn it, that was painful! I look down at the floor, where the bullet lets off minute explosions of sound as I assume it clatters on the floor.
  My dreams have never had pain in them like that.
  I lean back on my haunches, my tail left lifeless in coils on the floor, as I carefully try to discern the shape of my right foreleg's hand. I flinch as I jab the claw of the other foreleg's index finger through my hand.
  And I think I let out a little scream, I couldn't tell what the sound really was, I couldn't properly hear much at all, just location, range, volume. But I could smell my own pain in the air from my yelp. And it made me mad.
  Someone had attacked one of my children. Wait, no, the signature of the scent was me. Someone had attacked me!
  This brought my exhalation to a vicious quick paced series of explosions expelling my rage into the air.
  The blood dribbling down the claw that I had jabbed through my hand splattered with a hiss on the floor below, eating away at the material, slowly with the first drop then faster.
  I yank my claw free from my hand. Someone dared attack me!
  I'm already standing up on my hind legs, my clawed hands snapping together, the injured one only able to half close, my head tilting from side to side, tail ready to puncture the warm flesh of the one who had dared to attack me.
  Wait. I. I stabbed. Myself. I look down at my injured hand, then at the index claw of the other, the dribbled blood quickly loosing its acidity as the goo that seems to be omnipresent on my body fills over the hole, seemingly neutralizing the acid.
  I shake my head. But. That didn't make sense. I would never have stabbed myself, there had to be something else that did it. I had to find what did it and tear it apart, feeling its luscious blood pour over my flesh.
  NO! I'm not like this!
  I shake my head; confusion billows from my mouth like steam. This was what I was! I wasn't anything else.
  But, no I'm not this, I'm... I try to remember, but I can't. I can't recall at all what I was exactly.
  I shake my head. It was there, I knew it when I woke up, but now it was gone!?
  I had to collect hosts for my future children. But I also had to go somewhere, somewhere that didn't involve the nest, to... get something?
  I shake my head, as if that would dislodge the memory from my mind, but I still can't recall.
  Where was I supposed to go? It was very important, as important as starting the nest!
  I let out another cloud of frustration. Then I hear sound. It's a terribly explosive vibration easily detected through the metal walls of the hangar, a continuous detonation. I try to decipher what it is through my skewed senses, but can't bring it clear.
  Something. Big, there were rotations. Several. Smaller and larger ones.
  It was so close to the hangar, coming closer. I could decipher the telltale beating of hearts and quick-paced breaths of many living things through the explosive roar. And then the roar dies down slowly, the feeling of rhythmic impacts on ground with the heartbeats and breaths. Four of them, four living things. Hosts or prey? Or... danger?
  I find myself crouching back against the back of the wall. A possible threat had found where I had planned to begin the nest. But I needed to do something before that, what was it? It was important.
  I hear a rattling vibration, and the door I had slammed into the ground shakes.
  I take in the interior of the hangar. There were several hangar doors I think; it had very likely been abandoned. No way for me to get out without going by the four heartbeats and where the massive explosive roaring was emanating from.
  I look over towards where a door is opening, I let out a puff of fear. I didn't have any chance if they cornered me, if they were stronger then me. The size of whatever I had heard first was massive.
  It was simple then: rush by them. If they try and stop me, I fight back. If they take me down, I would be as dead as if I stayed right here.
  Wait, no, I'm not a killer!
  But I have to kill to survive. For my children to grow, there will need to be many deaths. But I had something to do besides that, what was it!
  The door is opened cautiously. I can practically feel my blood coursing full of acids, ready to burn away any who dared strike me. But as they entered I got a whiff of something odd, their scent was strangely blocked so I couldn' t detect any emotion. Just some oddly offensive tang in my mouth, no flavor in the air. I could hear their breathing muffled by something, and their shape was not exactly like a human.
  Environmental suits? Would make sense. After all, who knows what I could do. Not that a bit of rubber or plastic would probably help.
  They walk in carefully. It must be dark for them in here, but I couldn't see any light from the little cylinder that one of them seemed to be holding like a flashlight. The flashlight (or whatever it was) had not yet pointed at me.
  Then it pointed right across my head. I try to keep perfectly still, but I can tell that they saw me because they jolt. It feels odd to rely on how they move to decipher their emotion, but the only flavor they give off is that horrid tang.
  There is a very loud vibration that shivers through my crest, I can't really decipher the sound so I try and back up further.
  Don't kill. Don't kill. Don't kill!
  I must sound like I'm breathing hard, or growling, because they start to pull up their weapons. I suddenly find myself wondering whether those are loaded with bullets or tranquilizers. I wonder if either one would affect me.
  Don't act threatening. They won't harm me if I don't kill. I hope I didn't already!
  I sense more of the massive sound vibrations. I turn my head towards them and tilt it slightly to one side -- maybe they're saying something. I can tell that several of them probably wet their pants from their heart and breathing rate... I can't taste anything in the air, not that I feel like I would want to, to be sure. But they could be talking, trying to make communication. Well, that was hopeless.
  They are a threat! They will attack! Kill them! my mind seems to scream at me
  No! I yell back at it
  I think I screamed out loud, because there was a heavy vibration from me and all the people there looked like they might shoot.
  Calm. Calm!
  It wasn't working. I was scared, not for myself exactly, I was scared for my 'children' that would never be if I died. I was also getting severely pissed off at these intruders.
  Calm. Calm. Calm.
  I shake my head and I must have made another threatening sound. They try to talk to me again. I think. Can't tell though.
  Calm. Calm.
  It felt... wrong to not be tearing these intruders apart. They were in my nest!
  But I didn't want to hurt them, so... Scare them away?
  No. If I scare them much more, they will attack.
  Stay calm. You attack, you die. Don't attack. Calm. That worked! I calmed down (sort of).
  Okay, I was calmed some. Now I had to walk up to them, and not look like I would kill them, even though I might do it anyway.
  Don't attack them. Attack, die. Calm, live, I repeated to myself.
  It worked a bit. I managed to take a step forward, hunkering down, trying to look non-threatening, my tail drooping low against the ground, all six of my limbs touching the ground, bringing my approach to a crawl.
  I hoped I didn't look as mean as I thought I did.
  There were vibrations, I could feel them. Probably talking. I stopped moving. I wobble my head a bit from side to side. They are still talking. I think one of them is looking at me, I can't tell whether they are or not. Are they talking to me or about me? I can barely decipher what the vibrations are, let alone what they mean.
  One of them seems to make a gesture at me. I tense up, ready to leap and run. I can't understand them, damn it! How am I supposed to tell them that I'm not going to kill them -- how would I go about convincing them if I could communicate?
  Wait. Maybe I can write? I look down at the floor.
  I think I puzzled them when I started scratching at the floor. Maybe they thought I was completely insane. I probably was anyway. I continued gouging my index claw against the floor. It wasn't working very well; I couldn't see what I was scratching unless I got a very deep groove in it, and that wasn't easy even with my claws.
  Probably concrete. I think I let out another hiss as I try and scribble on the floor.
  Then as I get more agitated, a thought comes to me, or more a feeling from being annoyed brings up an idea. My blood was starting to tingle from acid.
  It could burn into concrete. I just had to keep myself upset.
  Oh, that's going to be so hard! I think I gave off a snort of something of that nature. The vibration seemed like it could have been a short held back breath. I also discovered Sarcasm didn't translate well to scent.
  I flinch as they start talking again -- they were definitely talking -- and some seemed like they wanted to attack. I was certain I was scaring the hell out of all of them, judging from the explosive heart rate.
  I ignore them and -- Wait a minute. When I cut my lip I didn't do anything, but I lost it when I impaled my hand! Well, maybe just a pinprick is too little damage for me to notice. But just in case...
  I decide to try and tell them to back up, so I reach out with my longer pair of arms, making sure my claws point away from the people. I move my limbs slow and smooth, and they make a bit of noise then back away from the gesture. I do it once more and they back away again. Okay, at least they're out of arm's reach now. I brace myself to lose it and prick the tip of my right forelimb's index finger.
  Nothing yet. I swear that what I did then was sigh in relief. Then I slowly smear the acid out to say 'CNT HR U'.
  It takes a little bit for the last letter to seep into the floor because the prick had started clogging up around then. Whew -- no psychotic tendencies! I was sure that it got their attention though, because they started making a lot of noise. I think they were arguing.
  Finally one of them makes a gesture. He wants me to wait? I can't tell exactly, maybe he knew sign or was telling me to get up. I was almost certain I growled at the one that was motioning at me and shook my head.
  Then I pricked my finger, flinching again, and quickly as I could wrote out 'x C WL 2'.
  Again, the last few letters were hardest because my finger clotted up, but this message was watched carefully as I wrote it out. Okay, so the injury was officially too minor to set off my psychotic protectiveness.
  Things were getting too confusing. They were getting agitated because I kept making some kind of upset noise. Not that I could really help it; their suits were making me uncomfortable about how to react to them. I was sure the hottest topic of their arguments was whether they should shoot me or not.
  After they had been arguing for what I estimated to be several minutes, or doing something noisy anyway, I waved my hand in the air and did my best to try and make a loud noise.
  I think it was a bit too loud because they all flinched and the ones with guns (I think) were halfway into taking aim and firing before one of them and the one with the flashlight stopped the remaining two.
  I shake my head and once again prick my finger and write out. I notice this time that my self-inflicted injuries were putting them on edge, but I put it off for now.
  'I FLW U' I think it got their attention. They talk for a bit, perhaps they had a radio? I wasn't sure. I decide they're taking too long so I sit back and wait, rubbing my poor index finger. It was quite sore after all the pricking. Well, at least I didn't lose it.
  Finally they start backing up, and the one with a flashlight (I was certain that's what it was) motions for me to follow. So I get up and start following them slowly, the other three are keeping their guns on me. That isn't a problem, just remain calm!
  When we get outside I discover what it was that was making the explosive racket: it was a truck. And if I thought the thing was noisy when I was in the hangar, it was downright deafening outside.
  Attack! Tear it to pieces! Silence it!
  I take a few steps towards the truck, let out a puff of aggressive scent, shake my head and then plant my feet and hands firmly on the ground. I had just put on a threat display; this didn't go unnoticed by my escort or all the people that had been outside. Somewhere around 16 or 17 of them, from the heartbeats.
  I think anyone who had a weapon had them focused on me.
  Calm! Calm, live! Attack, die!
  The truck was making too much noise! But I had to calm down, not attack.
  I give my head a shake ,then let my tail droop back into a position more relaxed then the curled-over-my-shoulder pose it had slid into when I nearly lost it.
  I turn to look directly at the one with the flashlight, then slowly lower my head back down and try and keep my lips covering my teeth. Don't get excited or angry! Just stay calm.
  I lay down and wait. They're talking to each other again, I can't tell what they're saying, but it was again most likely the subject of whether to shoot me or not.
  Finally someone motions for me to follow them towards the truck. Well, what else am I gonna do?
  So I follow, the truck was one of those big ones that you see driving down highways. I thanked whatever gods were up there for that.
  However, even though the truck was big I still had to literally crawl into it. Ouch, very cramped, but at least I wasn't too long for it even with my tail stretched out. The heartbeats of two people were behind me, two absolutely terrified people.
  And then the truck began to move.
  Calm, live! Attack, die! Calm, live! I repeat to myself as I hunker down and cover my vision with my hands, not that I could see anything but the flat walls of the vehicle.
  Oh god, that noise was torture: The wheels turning, the ground under the tires, the engine, the ground moving -- we hit a bump. I almost screamed and tried to stand up. No, don't stand up! No room! I smack my head into the ceiling and I think I leave a dent.
  Don't attack, don't attack, calm down! Calm down!
  It wasn't working so well. This time I was trapped. There were people behind me, I couldn't turn around to reach them with my hands but maybe I could impale them? Yes, I could slice them apart, they had very little of anywhere they could go --
  Attack, die! Attack, die! Don't attack!
  We hit another bump; I tried to turn and rattled the whole truck a little. Damn it, I just wanted to curl up and sleep through the whole trip, this was getting too stressful. And to my absolute surprise, I quite suddenly curl up and sleep.
  Or rather I rested. I could still see to an extent, and I heard the truck moving but everything was muffled, everything but the scent and flavor which seemed almost as if it was seeping into every little bit of myself.
  I can sleep on command?
  I try to wake up and find my mind returning completely to consciousness, my body and senses becoming fully aware and acute. And the mind-numbing aggression towards anything that threatened me in the slightest exploding.
  Nonono! Don't kill -- sleep! Sleep...
  I settle back into a resting position, and again my overall awareness of the world outside of scent fades into near oblivion. This isn't all that bad, I can stay like this and not have to worry about needing to deal with anything.
  I experiment a little by trying to move one of my smaller arms, the movement starts to bring me into wakefulness. Rest, don't wake up, sleep.
  I notice that I'm drifting away into full sleep. I wonder if I'll snore.

  I find myself standing on a cliff. My vision is strange, it has unfathomable swirls of an almost forgotten thing: color. I was seeing things as I used to. I was myself again.
  And yet I knew that I was not quite human. I was a monster, a creature that killed for its absolute existence. But I had always been a killer... hadn't I? I had always been a monster, so what am I now?
  I look down at myself and find a blended shape of my new form of vision and my old. But the blend was indistinct; my first form hadn't seemed much different from my current.
  Maybe I'd always been this, and the idea of being human was just a fantasy.
  I see myself as I was, a kid sitting at a computer monitor playing around with games, working on animations, writing and reading stories. And then I am what I have always seemed to be and what I have become. The hunter, the monster that lurks in the darkness ready to tear apart anything that got in its way.
  I see what I would undoubtedly become: The mother to a species of monsters, a race of killers, of intelligent killers. It was likely that they would all be as intelligent as I was. Wouldn't they? Or perhaps my children and I are smart enough to adapt to human beings. To perhaps integrate with society.
  I see a world where both are part of the same society, human beings using us as a death sentence, a way to dispose of killers. My children and me intermingling with society, working with governments as soldiers, or explorers of regions humans couldn't go before.
  I find myself seeing an entire unfolding history of a combined race, of the 'aliens' and the humans. We could do so much if only we --

  The truck had stopped; I yawn and flex my fingers. They weren't cramped, but it came as a force of habit.
  I hear voices, I wonder where they took me. I tilt my head a bit to get a look at what's behind me. Seemed like I had been sleeping just a bit more than I expected. Either that, or they had just organized quickly so that when I backed up I would have plenty of guns trained on me.
  Well, you can't do anything else, I shrug to myself. I back up carefully into the open. It felt so good to have enough room to be able to move; then I take a look around at where they've brought me to. The only thing I could 'see' was a smooth, slightly deformed square 'room' set around the truck.
  All right, fine. They felt they needed to contain me. I could put a hole in this thing by cutting my lip.
  I shrugged and let them lead me through a hallway leading from the room.
  Getting by that was a little interesting. For one thing, I had to keep my tail (which apparently had decided to twitch around from my agitation) from puncturing a hole in the walls. And then after I calmed it down, I had to crawl on all sixes with my head angled in a rather uncomfortable way so that I could fit through the rather cramped passage -- my crest was a large inflexible piece of carapace, bad for fitting in small spaces. However, after I managed to crawl along I discovered I was still faster then a human at a careful walk.
  After the short trip through the passage, we entered a slightly smaller room with a bunch of equipment that I was pretty sure I wouldn't recognize even if I could see normally. The only thing I found vaguely familiar was several computer monitors that I couldn't see the displays on. In the middle of this whole thing was what I assumed was going to be my place of residence for a while. It was a cage, and honestly I wondered whether they had built it on the spot or found a zoo to loan them something for storing multiple elephants.
  Well, it certainly would fit me in a relatively cramped kind of way, and they were the ones with the guns, so I went into the open doors and settled down, trying to avoid freaking from the resonating explosion of the gate being shut.
  After that you would think they relaxed, but all they did was take up posts to guard me as several unarmed people starting doing things frantically. Oh, well. I guess I should get settled in, I thought as I casually stretched that lovely set of extra jaws I had. That was kind of a bad idea, because it put everyone on edge when they noticed I could do that.
  Okay,this is getting to be too much trouble, I thought to myself.
  I looked around at the people apparently staring at me. Well, let them gawk. I'm certainly bizarre enough for once. I did what I thought was a snicker, then focused on resting and found myself asleep shortly after.
  God this part is great...

  I awoke then. My old family was gone, and I did not care any more. The guards were still there, and a small plate of food was laid out before me.
  I eat the meat; it was raw as usual. The blood was wonderful. It was cold though.
  A disappointment that it wasn't still alive, but I supposed that could change. I looked down at the chain that held the shackle on my left ankle. The metal of each hoop was a few inches thick, steel. It was stronger then I could hope to break, bend a little maybe but not break. I looked around, barely tilting my head ether way; my wide field of view could take in the whole room with a little head jiggle.
  This was not a safe place to build a nest, and I was bound here. Perhaps I could bite my ankle off and then tear my way out of the little tent? I knew the immediate area around me; it was a research building not far from somewhere I used to live. But no, I needed to stay calm, if I became violent I would be killed. So I would be calm and cool and escape by having them let me go.
  The scientists who were studying me had been talking about a shape shifter, and of a lizard who called himself something that sounded like a writer from the list. I remembered some of his stories, I wondered if he still wrote them. I would have liked to read them.
  They said the lizard had built some kind of place for those of us who had changed where we could be safe. I found myself deciding I would go there to start my nest. When the humans were done poking and pricking and asking questions, I would head towards there. And then I would begin to bring my children into the world.
  I supposed that I would use my children (once they were grown) to help protect the others, I felt a kind of kinship to them, like near nest mates, and what memories I had left of my former life told me that most humans would hate us.
  Well, that was all right. They could hate us if they wanted to; me and my children would simply eat them or hold them for future hatching.