Planet of Predator: A Captain's Dread

Narrated misadventure-account of a crash-landed nightmare onto an uncharted planet inhabited by an advanced hunting-species (Predator) requiring distance.

A sci-fi misadventure inspired by the sci-fi adventure-horror franchise Predator. Thanks for reading, 

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Let me tell you of a fantastically terrifying space-adventure during my NASA mission to the moon, when our crew of the newly-designed Weyland Company shuttle Sulaco was sucked into a universe-wormhole and crash-landed on an alien planet which was a game-hunting death-lure for sentient-beings trapped on an uncharted planet of Predator 'being' hunters seeking to exploit conscious fears of survival, making our NASA-Sulaco mission anything but diplomatic.

My name's Amlan Satan, and I was captain of the NASA-Sulaco mission to the moon which was detoured by the opened wormhole by the moon which sucked us in and drew us into a crash-landed alien-planet where these terrifying intelligent helmeted 'Predator' beings made us hunt-sport targets requiring absolute target-shooting and survival-IQ which I have been commenting about on social-media since returning to Earth safely/thankfully.

EMERGENCY-TRANSMISSION: The Sulaco is drawn into a suddenly-opened 'wormhole' which we don't know will lead where!

When we landed on this uncharted-alien planet, we encountered a 'host' of strange hunting 'dog-ravenous' alien creatures with horns and biting jaws which he had to either shoot or evade by climbing up trees it wouldn't be able to follow us up, introducing us to this deranged 'odyssey' of unforgettable valor!

We stood on the edge of a clearing by the mountains on this strange alien-planet and beheld the multiple-planet/moon system that hovered in the atmospheric sky, awakening in us the 'revelation' that this game-hunting planet was simply some kind of species-hunting 'grounds' for sporting species-competition ideations (Jesus).

SOLDIER: We'll load some of our standard Weyland guns with this homemade acid (bottles) I brought with us, Satan (captain).

SATAN (Me): Good...we should be able to ward off an approaching alien-predator or whatever is the 'master' of those dogs!

It was the miracle of those 'acid-guns' we crafted on-the-fly on that alien-planet of the Predator-species game-hunting lure that saved us from the horrors of space-travel detours that glorious time in the universe, before we returned safely (almost all of us at least!) by zooming through that still-opened universe wormhole (Jesus).

SOLDIER: Have you ever envisioned anything like this in alien sci-fi storyboarding, Satan (captain)?

SATAN (Me): No way...this is out of a nightmare of HG Wells or something, soldier; these skinned hunted bodies are Hellish.

Honestly, we don't know (yet!) what the Predator aliens decided in their 'sovereign' decision to make trophy-corpses out of the humanoid 'visitors' landed/lured onto this game-hunting alien-predator planet. We do hypothesize that the Predator 'beings' are simply killing-figures destroying life for some kind of sporting 'message(s)' for anything but Facebook (social-media) peace on Earth.

We embarked on a walking trek through the planet after evading and/or killing the alien 'dog' creatures which 'greeted' us as the primary diplomats on that hunting-grounds planet we crash-landed onto after being helplessly sucked into the opened wormhole en-route to the moon on the Sulaco NASA-shuttle for Weyland Company. During that forest-jungle area trek on that uncharted alien-predator planet, we discovered one of the Predator 'beings' strapped onto a tree which we quickly discovered was a 'lure' (yet again) for other living Predators shooting at us with lasers while we'd been idling in shock staring at this 'baited' Predator being strapped to the tree as a 'relic' of the species (perhaps for our 'human' curiosities!).

WEYLAND INTERVIEW: So, you escaped and evaded complete death with your clever 'acid-guns' on that hunting-ground area?

SATAN (Me): Yes, and we lost valued members of the Sulaco-crew during out exploration-trek on that Predator-planet too!

WEYLAND INTERVIEW: What's your final-analysis, Captain?
SATAN (Me): Honestly, I think we'd re-evaluate the 'quality' of sci-fi lore on Earth now; alien intelligences exist...for hunting!

WEYLAND INTERVIEW: Excuse us, captain, but why'd an alien intelligence of advanced weaponry simply be hunter-killers?

SATAN (Me): Honestly, I think you'd have to ask these alien-Predators themselves...if you (honestly) think that's profitable!

WEYLAND INTERVIEW: Well, at least there were survivors, Satan.

DIARY-ENTRY (Amlan Satan): Did we truly escape, or did the Predator 'beings' simply allow us to return as 'messengers' of IQ?

WIFE: Maybe this is a giant chess-game of wits/survival by those Predator 'beings' requiring you to study the shape of faith.

ME: Plausible, darling; maybe they resent some kind of 'chess-stalemate' peace-IQ diagram (I dunno).

WIFE: You need some kind of Asimov sci-fi storytelling therapy about civilization-IQ sanity (chess-play) distances!

I heeded my darling wife's advise and indulged in some quality Asimov storybooks to contemplate what would 'move' an 'advanced' alien intelligence to act/behave as a pure hunting clan, luring sentient beings onto the hunting-grounds uncharted planet (for sport!) and frightening the Hell out of our assumptions of what made/makes chess-stalemate a 'naive' re-presentation of the conscious child-like daydreams of peace/civility between intelligent beings in the known universe! I did however, find great relief in these post-misadventure storybooks (honestly).

DIARY-ENTRY (Amlan Satan): My darling wife drew me back to the 'daylight(s)' of Earth/Facebook which may've escaped me.

PRESS-INTERVIEW: What do you think is the message of the Predator species on that death-trap planet, Captain Satan?
SATAN (Me): Maybe they simply don't 'adore' chess, and in which case...we're all in for some potential Invasion-darkness.

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)