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Behind You	By : PersonOfDisinterest Category: +A through F > Alien: Isolation Views: 27918 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Alien: Isolation or its characters and make no profit from this work.

Chapter List
- 1-Amanda
- 2-Waits
- 3-Sevastopol
- 4-Alien
- 5-Marlow
- 6-Breeder
- 2
- 3
- 4
Amanda had something of a secret, one that lent a blush to her cheeks even to admit to herself.
The sexual adventures of her teens and beyond were not particularly sordid, but with each experience under her belt the young woman took notice of a pattern. It decided whether she had to fake her groans to save her partner the embarrassment, or slowly and unconsciously lick her lips when her romp for the night dropped his pants.
Put simply, the truth was that Amanda Ripley was a size queen. The fuller she felt, the better. So it was with frustration prickling hotly underneath the engineer's skin that she slipped her fingers out of her snatch.
Amanda regarded the glistening trio of digits as they emerged with a frown; it just wasn't enough. Sometimes she just wanted to be spread out, biting down on the edge of her hand as a larger, rough pair gripped her hips so hard she could see the marks on her skin afterwards. Unfortunately, all the young woman had right now was the fantasy. How astronomical was the possibility of the tall, fit vision of masculinity she envisioned pinning her to the bunk stumbling upon her little corner of the Sevastopol?
How much more likely was it that kind of man laid cold and dead somewhere?
Amanda shuddered and pushed such a dark thought aside. A moment of inspiration - or perhaps desperation - occurred to her and the engineer leaned over the edge of the bunk to retrieve her duffel bag. She rummaged impatiently through the contents, looking for...she didn't know what. Then she spotted one of the flares. The young woman paused in consideration. It didn't take long to mull the idea over in her head, what with the insistent ache between her thighs.
Reaching into the depths of the bag, Amanda fished out one of the few that she had left. Merely gripping the cool, smoothly rounded object gave her flashes of the instance lobbing one across a room had only just saved her life as phosphorous light briefly distracted her murderous stalker. Heart pounding to a near violent rhythm, she had slowly crept out from behind a table, shaking with every careful, deliberate step as the creature crouched over the burning flare and hissed.
Echoes of that feeling, of escaping by the thinnest skin of her teeth as adrenaline pumped through her and she fought against every natural instinct to break out into a run, swept through Amanda and she yearned now more than ever for release, for pleasure to roll through her sweaty body and soothe away the tension in her muscles. Heat nevertheless crept up on the engineer's cheeks as she held the flare with intention. Christ, she must have looked desperate.
Amanda was glad there was no one about to watch.
The tube of the flare was a good fit in her hand; the goldilocks option. Amanda swallowed and wore a nervous half smile as she flipped it over, facing the business end as it were away from her body. Conveniently, the base of the flare was curved rather than flattened. The young woman noted this with a quiet sigh as she traced the shape of her labia with it, carefully nudging the little swollen button poking out from underneath its hood.
Sitting back against the wall, Amanda spread herself open with a pair of fingers after pushing her hand down through the thatch of dark curls sitting above her sex. Her mound was getting a little wild, but she had had no one to impress in some time.
A small gasp escaped the young woman as she teased the end of the flare inside, teeth peeling off her lower lip. Amanda had experience with an assortment of toys; the flare was on the thicker side. She had no complaints, only a loose smile and hooded eyes as she turned her wrist, pushed and then pulled.
The instructions labelled against the side of the flare were wetly smeared as Amanda withdrew it from her cunt. She looked down, pouting as her lips parted around the flare and tilting her head back against the wall as she felt it slide into her. Shuffling a little, Amanda spread her legs wider. She moaned lightly when her pussy clenched around the retreating length of her pseudo toy, only to thrum with delight moments later when she shoved even more of it back in.
"Oh, shit," the young woman murmured, so wet now that she squelched with every deep, twisting thrust of the flare. "That's good. That's so good."
God, she was such a slut. But what did it matter? Amanda had earned the right to be a little naughty. She was alive; she'd survived and she was going to enjoy fucking herself. Hey, why not? She was all alone and had this silent, forgotten corner of the station all to herself. A loud groan left her lips. Amanda grinned sheepishly at the sound of her own voice filling the room, tight and most certainly lewd. The next one she heard was the Sevastopol's ominous rumbling.
Amanda's hand flew from her breast, thrown out to the side to catch herself as the room suddenly tilted. The station quaked sharply and her palm set to the bunk was not enough to stop the young woman being unceremoniously dumped onto the ground. Amanda just managed to throw up her arms to cover her head in time when her duffel bag was jolted over the edge of the bunk. The contents spilled out all over her, Amanda wincing as her tools and weapons clattered to the floor after bouncing off the back of her hands.
Eventually, the Sevastopol settled again. It had fallen quiet. The young woman slowly lifted her brow off the cold floor and opened her eyes. She was met with darkness, black and near impenetrable, barely able to make out the faint outline of the bunk -
"Shit!"
Amanda blurted out the curse when a bar of light above her fizzled back to life. Startled into movement, she found herself curled up and staring at the ceiling with a heaving chest.
It took a few seconds for the panic to dull. Lowering the hand she had instinctively raised, Amanda shook her head. She was fine; it was nothing, just a light turning back on for heaven's sake. She couldn't believe the reaction it had gotten out of her. Was she going to jump at any and every little noise this god forsaken station made? Apparently so, for Amanda gave a little start when something rattled against the floor between her legs.
The engineer forced herself to breathe as she reached down to pick up the flare. Slipping wetly out of her, it glistened with the excitement Amanda no longer felt. It was probably about time she thought about getting back to Waits and the others, now that she thought about it. The mood was dead. She cursed the Sevastopol's shitty timing under her breath and pulled her panties back into place with a light snap.
The station rumbled in retaliation. It was back to its old tricks again. Crouched beside the bunk with her knees spread, Amanda went still. Underneath her bare soles, the floor finally stopped trembling. Hesitating only briefly afterwards, the young woman wiped the length of the flare clean on the thin sheets of the bunk. So what? No one was actually going to sleep in it at this rate. Amanda turned away with just a little bit of heat in her cheeks to find her duffel bag.
She looked up several moments later, paused in the act of shoving laminated noisemaker blueprints back into the bag. She was more than certain she had not just set off one of the pair sitting in the depths of the bag, but if that was case...what was that sound?
Amanda swore she wasn't just hearing things; even when she made herself completely still and waited - there it was again.
Tap, tap, tap.
On her knees at the end of the bunk in a well lit room, Amanda swallowed. Then she scowled at herself. She was more than alone. Nevertheless, the young woman set the duffel bag gently to the floor and crept forward the few inches it would take to let her look through into the common room. Aside from several magazines and a few bits and bobs scattered across the floor, and one of the sofas having been shunted into the table, everything was as it should be. And then the lights flickered.
Amanda quickly shrank back, breath caught as darkness swallowed the walls and furniture. But it was brief, only an instant before the lights buzzed back on. And in the same length of time, they once again vanished. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Amanda's face. The common room flirted with shadows with an irregular rhythm. But whatever was making that tapping noise wasn't coming from in there. It was coming from the room across from Amanda's, and behind a half closed door that room was entirely dark.
Groaning sheets of metal somewhere close by made her skin crawl. Every instinct was telling her to pick up her shit and run, right then in that moment. She could dress herself properly when she was far, far away from this place. Dignity was way down on her list of priorities.
"Don't be an idiot, Amanda," she whispered harshly, "there's nothing to be afraid of."
She muttered that mantra over and over as she picked herself up off the floor and found her feet. Amanda took pause when her gaze flitted down and she caught sight of her flamethrower, yet to be packed away. She took a deep breath and stepped over it.
"There's nothing to be afraid of."
In her black vest and panties, Amanda crossed the common room. Her stride was confident for all of two steps until the lights died. Plunged into solid blackness, the young woman drew up short. Her throat pulsed as her hands clenched briefly into fists. She pushed air between her lips when the erratic light came back on and moved forward again, gingerly.
Seemingly locked in place, Amanda could feel the warmth beneath her pits as she set her hands to the cold edge of the half open, unpowered door. She had to work to push it entirely open, contesting with an uncomfortable prickling of her skin as she slowly exposed a pitch-black bunk room. Her chest was tight, full of air Amanda had to remind herself to breathe as she took a small step back and faced the darkness.
Tap, tap, tap.
Amanda could hear it more clearly now as she stood at the threshold of the room, a hand resting on the frame of the open door. Swallowing, she craned her head forward to peek inside. Some weak light filtered in from the common room, but not enough to illuminate the corners.
This room closely mirrored the one she had tentatively left, two bunks standing against the walls opposite each other. Personal effects were strewn across the floor. Amanda was reluctant to set a foot inside. She would have to though; standing at the edge of the room for as long as she was let the young woman realise the sounds she was hearing were coming from beyond it.
Tap, tap, tap.
And the rusty whine of pipes at the same time Amanda made the decision to move.
She practically dashed across the room. Amanda winced and bit out a curse when she kicked into something and stumbled. She sharply sucked in her breath as a sharp pain bloomed through her big toe. The offending object bounced across the floor ahead of her as Amanda emerged into the living quarter's shower room.
Drip, drip, drip.
It was the sound of fat droplets of water collecting into small puddles, falling with a plip that rang off the cold walls. That was it. That was all. Amanda straightened as she looked slowly around the room. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. Really? The young woman laughed at herself, shaking her head. She couldn't believe it. Her vest was stuck to the crevice of her back with sweat, thanks to a pair of shower heads leaking heavily onto their respective cubicle's floor.
She hated this fucking station.
"Christ, Amanda," the engineer said, chuckling in shaky relief as she strode back into the dark bunk room, "you're such a -"
Tap. Tap. Tap.
With a hand set against the door frame and a foot about to cross over into the common room, the young woman froze. Amanda didn't breathe, but something else did. It was a low, rattling hiss, issuing hotly against the back of her neck.
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Behind You