Hybrids: An Indoraptor Story ✓

Nemesis [Pt. 1]

||𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏2𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎||

Three days.

She had survived without humans for three days.

Indy couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it, otherwise she'd be admitting that Blink and Seven were right. And, of all things, that was the last thing she hoped to do.

But she was proud! Nature tended to her well, like a mother to her hatchling, aiding the pale hybrid throughout her mystic world. Concealing her from dangers. Directing the indominus around traps, human towns, and hunters. And, while confusion and curiosity often bested Indy's primal urges, she wasn't suffering like most. Deer were abundant here. Rivers were strangely easy to find. Herds of dinosaurs and mammals scurried out of her way, paving roads for her to travel. And nobody challenged her, not even those who claimed dominion in these parts.

It put a small smile on her face. Small, not grand, considering she was still alone.

Dumbfounded most days.

And lost in others.

Even now, Indy didn't feel as connected to freedom as her ancestors. Traversing mountains was a nightmare. The multitude of scents in the forest still stung at her snout. Relieving herself now felt wrong, especially in front of the watchful eyes of tiny creatures who didn't care for privacy like the humans had. And her hunting tactics didn't work for all prey... unfortunately.

A day earlier she had hunted down an armored beaked dinosaur -- brown, loud, annoying, and almost half her size. But her successes became a failure; she didn't know what to do once it submitted to her attacks. It simply laid there under her crushing claw, watching. Some part of her found humor in how long it took, like a human trying to fold a fitted sheet. She'd round her prey over and over, nibbling the jagged tail, the skinny arm, the guarded back, even the neck in hopes to find meat.

She'd mostly just pinch into bone.

And then, when she stepped away to re-observe, the devilish lunk of meat let out a disgusting caterwaul, whacked her in the skull with its clubbed tail, and scrambled off before she could prepare. Indy growled, tasting fresh blood welling up to her tongue, then looked to her left where an idiotic tan-horned creature stood.

At least there was deer, she grunted, snapping her crushing jaw onto the mammal for an instant kill.

She liked the way they crunched.

Tonight, Indy was walking down an foggy street. Step by step, grunt by grunt, her tremors shook the Californian crust, tricking the forest life by the means of an earthquake. Both eyes would trail the yellow stripes marked upon the asphalt and her nares twitched, seeking roadkill and fresh litter spilled on both sides. The Indominus had been lucky; only three times was she forced to hide from incoming cars. Even the food was untouched. Ironic how her departure from humanity still drew her back to their 'great' works. They saved her from the struggle of a hunt, and, even better, nobody would suspect a thing.

That alone was promising.

Still, the further she walked from home, the more anxious she felt. Sure, she had changed, but it wasn't curing the ache in her heart. She missed Seven. She missed her home. Her little cage of safety was irreplaceable -- not even Nature's beauties can convince her otherwise. Where there was shade, there were bugs. Where there were toys, there now laid sticks, rocks, and skunks. And where there was cool, refreshing wind easing her scales, there was hot, sticky air choking her lungs out of her own musk.

Indy sighed. Now the hybrid hoped to find something worthy of her trek into humanity. Something to level the odds with her intuitions.

That's when she found the first sign of life. A literal sign.