From The Ash
Your acidic blood pooled around your body, frozen in shock. The nest was engulfed in flames, all of the victims trapped long dead. Small sparks licked at your feet, encouraging you to become one with them. You denied their want by pulling your clawed foot closer to you. Your tail whipped back and forth, creating divots in the nearby trees in it's wake. All of your sisters had been in the burning debris before you. Your queen had fallen with her kingdom.
Your numbers were cut down to an excruciatingly small amount. In all the galaxy, the universe even, there existed only one. The painful truth crashed down onto your mind like the tunnels far beneath you. You were that last speck in the order, the last of your kind. Here in the valley, residing the last being of its race, the last Xenomorph.
You had sensed the one behind the attack much earlier, but hadn't killed him. Oh, if you had known what he would have done, you would have mauled him with nothing left to glance at. Your decision not to kill him had brought down the wrath of your stupidity now. You had escaped, the only one to do so. The last thing you had heard was your perished family's shrieks of pain echoing on the cave walls.
A mournful hiss escaped your jaws, breaking the night's silence it had clung onto, despite the crackling inferno in its dark midst. The light from the blaze shined an eerie orange glow onto your shiny skin. Your tail ceased to move, running out of the remaining energy it had contained moments before. Darkness seeped into the edges of your vision, clouding all but one thought.
'The throne has been deprived it's purpose.' Was the last thing that resided in your distorted mind. You saw the blistering flames die down before black flooded your vision, forcing you into temporary darkness.