Haunted Wood This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off

The xenomorph was vile in his snaps – teeth aiming for various portions of her body. He wanted a taste; he wanted to know the flavor of her blood on his tongue. All the while, the dark storm of a beast longed for the sound of her cries for help. Those cries never sounded, though. While he thrashed against her frame and dug at her flesh with his wicked fangs, Nostromo hungered for the delight of the noise that a trapped animal made.
 
The girl kicked sharply, her foot slamming against his groin and causing him to buckle with pain. The alien beast growled violently and reeled back, angering against the pain, and reveling in it all the same. It was not often that his targets were able to react to his figure so quickly and to cause an immediate jolt in the killer. When there had been a foot of space between them, Nostromo grinned again and waited to see if she would try to run.
 
There was nothing more thrilling than a chase.