A Story by Quickbeam

My first story is fan fiction, taken from a game called 'Alien Isolation'. The story is actually from my game experience. The anxiety that I felt playing the game is projected onto the character


“Ricardo, oh god Ricardo” she whimpers “Oh no”

Amanda Ripley stares through the two-inch-thick tempered glass at Ricardo, who is sitting on the other side upright in his chair by the reception desk.

His face is hidden behind a fleshy pink mask that is firmly clamped by fingers, that grasp around the back of his head. The thing almost looks like a giant hand. A tail protrudes from its back and is wound around Ricardo’s neck like a noose. The noose tightens as Amanda leans forward, nose touching the glass. Flaps both sides of the disfigured hand pulsate, in a breathing motion.

Is the thing breathing for him? She thinks, seeing that Ricardo’s chest is moving in unison with the creature. It's going to lay one of those things inside him.

Knowing what his fate is, her last friend on the station is as good as dead. No one left, only her and the monsters.

“Goodbye Ricardo” she says still whimpering.

In a daze, she walks down the corridor and down to the next level, via the stairs. The lower level of Seegson Communications is far darker and more industrial looking, with metal grid gantry floors. Steel structural ribs intermittently break up the monotony of the corridor. Smoke pours from one of the multicoloured pipes that run along the ceiling. This level is mainly used by synthetics, who do not care much about aesthetics.

“Ok pull it together” she whispers kneeling on the floor, removing straps and equipment. “Ammo check”.

There are no bullets left in her shotgun. Looking down the cylinder of her revolver, only one hole is blocked with a bullet, whilst the remaining holes are all clear. The flame flower feels light in Ripley’s hands, must be nearly empty but it’s hard to tell.  Standing up, all equipment back in its rightful place, she closes her eyes and tries to remain calm. Retracing her steps, she knows one thing about this level, there is nowhere to hide.

Opening her eyes suddenly, she quickly looks up. Above her can be heard that all too familiar sound. That scraping sound of claws on metal, the echo of something large shifting in the ducts.

Bump, bump, thud.

One of them is here.

Raising her flame thrower, she gently and quietly proceeds down the steel grid gantry.

“Beep Beep” the motion tracker is instructing her that something is very close.

Bump, thud, bump.

Not too far, just need to get to the elevator to take me down to the transit station.

The pilot flame on the weapon flitters, flutters and without warning disappears with a whipping sound, as the fuel in the gas cylinder runs dry. Her shield against these creatures is gone. More than ever Amanda feels vulnerable and panic starts to set in. Her hands start to shake, as she lowers the now redundant weapon.

Bump, bump, thud.

“One f*****g bullet” swearing, only really mouthing the words to not alert anyone or anything.  She witnessed moments earlier from the window of an airlock several people firing at one of these things to no avail. The small revolver with the one bullet will be useless.

Thud, bump, bump.

She walks softly further, her leg hits something lying on the ground. Looking down she sees the two bloody corpses in security guard uniform that she had left behind. Her intention was not to kill them, but only to sneak past. She tried distracting them with a flare, but with the limited space to get past both of them she was spotted. When they opened fire, she had no choice but to use her last homemade pipe bomb as a grenade.

Bump, thud, bump.

The creatures are not the only killers on this ship. What was it Axel had said? “It’s called surviving”. I had no choice.

She has been repeating this thought in her head for some time. Before this trip she had never taken a life, now she has taken several. She carefully places her feet between the pools of blood and fragments of armour and body, and carries on down the long corridor.

Bump, bump, thud.

The echoes from the duct are deceiving, where is it, behind me, in front of me?

Picking up the motion tracker the green glow reflects off her tired face. The constant beeping tells her its near, but she cannot get a bearing. Twisting around and rotating the device does nothing to tell her where it could be. All she can do is keep walking, keep walking and praying.

Thud, bump, bump.

She peeks around the corner and is met by another similar ominous dark corridor, full of shadows, but nowhere to hide.

Ok nearly there.

She starts to head down the endless gantry and comes to a stop.

Did I just see something move at the other end?

A silhouette of a creature slithers and slumps, falling from the vent above to rest on the metal gantry floor. On all fours the thing slowly raises its elongated head to face Amanda. Translucent viscous drool drips from its mouth, and slops messily onto the cold steel floor. It starts to hiss. The black gums recede to reveal bright sharp rows of teeth, mimicking a sinister smile.  She realizes that, although there are no eyes, it is looking straight at her. The hiss that still has not expelled grows louder, as it opens its jaws to reveal a further row of teeth behind. Unnatural and demonic the thing gracefully stands upright, arms wide, claws facing Amanda.


The taloned feet hit the floor, making each step known, as the black hulking mass walks towards her.

Clang…..Clang SCREEECH!

The creature starts to accelerate


What do I do, I have no flame thrower?


Think Ripley, Think!


S**t, I’m going to die, I’m going to die!


Amanda pulls her revolver from its holster, pointing it towards the elongated head, which is looming closer.

SCREECH! Clang.Clang

What the hell is one bullet going to do?


Out the corner of her eye she spots a red gas canister, sitting on top of a workbench on the walkway. She wavers the gun and points it in the general direction of the bottle.


S**t, is this even going to work?


With one eye closed, she focuses down the sight, aiming at the canister.


Amanda squeezes the trigger. Immediately the dark corridor is illuminated with a bright flash, as the canister explodes. Her face feels a sudden warmth from the hot gasses irradiating her face.


The creature is still approaching her slowly but now is enveloped in fire. The menacing posture disappears, with its arms flailing and torso twisting, as if to put out the flames. Looking up it spots another air vent and with no hesitation jumps up into the above crawl space. The alien lantern disappears, and the corridor is left, once again in darkness.

That’s brought me some timeAmanda thinks to herself, knowing that she only has startled the creature and nothing more.

She quickly walks, passing the remains of the gas canister and the charred blackened stain left on the surrounding steel. Going around another corner she can see the bright welcoming lights of the lift.  As she walks towards it the sound of the creature can be heard dropping back into the corridor behind, with a large heavy thump.


From not too far away, Amanda can hear the creature walk towards her. In a blind panic, she sprints hoping to reach the lift in time, before the thing can react. Throwing herself into the lift, she urgently taps the button, trying to somehow make the doors close quicker, knowing it is futile. A very loud hiss can be heard, the alien must only be a few feet from where she is standing. The doors close in slow motion, as the shadow of the creature can be seen on the grid floor moving towards the opening. The doors fully close and with a jolt making her jump, the lift cabinet starts to descend.

For a moment this brightly lit metal box is her sanctuary, her haven. She has escaped from the creature for now, but there are many of these things loose on the station. 

With this knowledge Amanda drops her flame thrower to the floor and sits huddled in the corner of the lift, knees to chest, face in hands.

“I can’t do this anymore” she tells herself, shaking her head, she is mentally and physically exhausted.

Tears stream down her face, as she starts to sob. For the moment apart from the crying, the only thing heard is the peaceful humming of the lift motor, as it proceeds down to the transit station.  All too soon the lift comes to a halt. Amanda picks up the empty flame thrower. The lift doors slide open revealing the dark room of the transit station ahead. Fresh air enters the cab and the feeling of sanctuary dissipates into the room, leaving Amanda once again cold and vulnerable. Standing up, she closes her eyes and tries to remain calm

Opening her eyes suddenly, she quickly looks up. Above her can be heard that all too familiar sound. That scraping sound of claws on metal, the echo of something large shifting in the ducts.

Thud, Thud, Crash.

One of them is here………..

© 2017 Quickbeam

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on October 30, 2017
Last Updated on October 30, 2017
Tags: alien, aliens, xenomorph, face hugger, horror, sci fi, Ripley, Ellen, Amanda, Alien Isolation, survival horror, space, fan fiction, game, ps4, xbox one, pc, gaming



Auckland, New Zealand

A newbie to writing and realise that it might be a thing for me. My vivid imagination needs an outlet so lets see :) 9-5 job living in Auckland. Surfing, running, guitar, gaming, engineering, thai.. more..

The Match The Match

A Story by Quickbeam