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The Thing EX: An Alternate Ending
U.S. Outpost North 31
A man sat in the interior pub area of the now partly destroyed area of U.S. Outpost 31. Exposed to the terrible winter weather outside, it seemed that the storm has settled for the time being. R.J. MacReady calmly lit a cigar, his hands heavily wrapped from the exposure of frostbite, not to mention that on his face which made him look like he has war paint on. MacReady tried his best to pour himself a drink, and amazingly, he had succeeded. Before he could take a sip, however, a puffy white hand grabbed him by the shoulder.
‘Damn it, I KILLED you, you alien son of a bitch!!’ Mac’s mind screamed while he whirled around and met the owner of the hand at gunpoint. It wasn’t the alien; it was the only other survivor in Outpost 31, Childs. Childs was in the same condition as MacReady was. His hands and faced were covered with frostbite. Childs managed to catch another glimpse of the now dull burning fire of where he fought The Thing, and then focused back on Mac, letting out a chilled sigh.
"Did you kill it?" asked Childs. Mac and Childs were both very weak. Not knowing who’s who in this situation and almost staying awake for two days can do this to a man, more to the point, two.
"I’m pretty sure." replied Mac. Childs gave a frustrating sigh this time.
"I mean it Mac, is it DEAD?" Childs asked more firmly. Mac took another swig of his whiskey, all the time eyeballing Childs near angry glance.
"Yeah, the fuckers dead," He finally saw Childs hands; "Frostbite’s a bitch, ain’t it?" Childs managed to give a slight laugh, but backed away, slowly. He didn’t know if that alien managed to get to MacReady. He examined his hands again.
"Oh, well, they’ll black again, sure enough, but my toes are already gone, thought the little guys came off when I was running here." explained Childs.
"Easy for you to say, I stayed out there any longer, I might be looking like you." Mac joked. Childs laughed.
"Yeah, Mac," Childs then refocused on another important matter, "I guess you’re the only one left." Mac gave a slight nod, but he watched Childs closely after that statement.
"You’re still alive, aren’t you?" Mac asked. Though Childs might not have known it, but Mac doubted his humanity just as much as he did after what they’ve been through.
"The fire’s not going to last long." Childs looked at the smoldering flame.
"We aren’t going to either." Mac took yet another swig of whiskey; the bottle was half empty now.
"We should try to fix the radio," Mac immediately gave Childs a cold look.
"No, we shouldn’t. If that thing is still alive it
stays here, where the alien motherfucker can FREEZE to death for all I
care!!" Screamed Mac, as he shattered the whiskey bottle against a
wall. Childs jumped back in surprise.
"Maybe we shouldn’t make it. That could be that creature talking and not you." Mac said, and he puffed out some of his cigar smoke.
"If you’re worried, let’s try that blood test of yours, eh?" asked Childs.
"In the shape you and I are in, I think neither of us can try to stand up to whatever surprises we have in store for each other. IF there are any surprises." Mac took his blowtorch from under the desk, and placed it on top, his hand on the lighter.
"So, where exactly were you Childs?" Mac asked firmly, the blowtorch pulled a little closer.
"I thought I saw Blair, so I went after him, but then the storm kicked up and I lost sight of him." Replied Childs.
"Is that the truth?!" asked Mac. Childs gave a slight smile.
"Yeah, Mac. It’s the truth. Honestly." Said Childs. Mac gave another puff of smoke from his cigar. Childs finally sat down, across the room from MacReady, eyeballing him. He looked around, seeing the fires of what remained of Outpost 31. Mac sat up, looking at one of the fires, almost if he was uncertain about something.
"What is it?" Childs asked. MacReady opened his mouth, but words failed him. He simply grabbed Childs and ran over the fire that Mac was trying to examine.
"Mac, slow down! Damn it, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Childs asked angrily. Mac didn’t answer, but the two arrived at the fire that Mac was examining.
"There." He said, pointing at a burning corpse. Mac leaned closer, and then he found what he was looking for. The burning corpse of the now dead Blair-Thing.
"So, Blair was one of them after all?" Childs asked. Mac nodded, he stood up.
"Sorry, Childs. It’s just that I thought I saw one of them again, maybe something we missed." Said Mac, then, almost as if on cue, Childs and MacReady heard that horrific high-pitched screeching that they had heard once before. They whipped around in different directions, trying to find the source. Then, out of nowhere, a creature came down from the darkened sky, mutated, its face almost resembling that of an animal, jaws all over the remaining parts of the head. This form of the Thing seemed to resemble that of a combination of a huge, muscular, four-legged animal. MacReady and Childs stood their ground, horrified. They couldn’t believe it, something else had been infected.
"Childs! Run for it! Try to find a blowtorch!!" Mac screamed. Childs came to his senses and ran after Mac. The two looked behind them. The Thing creature that they were fighting had been one they’ve never seen before. This one possessed speed, even while going through the mutation process.
"Shit! It’s gaining on us, Mac!!" Childs screamed. Mac took one glimpse back. The Thing was running on all fours, and it was damn fast.
"Split up!" Mac screamed back to Childs.
"Fuck that, Bwana! We can’t just separate, what if one of us gets lost in the storm?"
"If we separate, one of us can still have the time to kill it if the other is dead!"
"DO IT, CHILDS!" Childs, apparently stunned by MacReady’s tone, immediately darted to the left. The Thing creature stopped, pondering who to go after. Mac reached the area he was in, going for the blowtorch. When he turned around, he saw…
The creature had taken off. MacReady stepped out of pub area, searching for it. He looked around, nothing was moving, and then it hit him. Maybe the creature had gone after Childs! Mac ran as fast as he could to where Childs went, but he faintly heard the sound of a snowmobile running. It seemed that Childs knew that he wouldn’t outrun the creature on foot. Soon, Childs passed the area of where the Blair-Thing corpse was. Mac turned, blowtorch ready in his hands. Childs waved, and then pointed behind him. Childs had gained a considerable amount of lead from the new form of the Thing.
"Mac, I’m going to pull it to you!" Childs screamed over the engine of the snowmobile. Mac gritted his teeth, and he checked the torch, running over behind a piece of cover.
"Alright, you motherfucker. It’s time for you to die!" Mac grimaced, just the thought of killing this creature made his adrenaline rush. He heard the snowmobile coming closer. Before he knew it, it passed. Childs screamed.
"BURN THAT FUCKER!" But when MacReady turned, there was nothing. The creature had stopped its pursuit. It was gone.
"Childs, were the hell is that thing?!" Mac screamed.
"M-M-Mac, look—behind.." Stuttered Childs. Mac turned around slowly, only to look straight into the jaws of hell. He stood, paralyzed, terrified that this creature was able to outsmart him. It opened it’s "mouth" tentacles coming out, in order to infect the now corned R.J. MacReady. Suddenly, the creature lashed out its tentacles, and Mac closed his eyes. He and Childs both heard a high pitch squealing, and it wasn’t Mac, it was the creature. It was litterly standing on a sea of flame. Childs had a spare Molotov Cocktail on him, and used one of the nearby fires to light it.
"LIGHT THAT ALIEN MOTHERFUCKER UP, MACREADY!!!" Childs screamed triumphantly. The creature continued to scream, and Mac aimed his blowtorch, then noticing that the creature was actually looking at him. Mac started to pull the trigger.
"Yeah, AND FUCK YOU TOO!!!" Mac screamed, and he let out a war cry, torching the creature. It screamed, then, it was totally in flames. Soon, MacReady had run out of fuel, and the creature fell over dead. Childs walked towards MacReady, smiling.
"Well, I think that’s the last of ‘em, Mac." He said. MacReady just stared.
"Wait a sec; I think this is the one we missed from the kennel." Mac stated. Childs whipped his head toward MacReady.
"The one from the kennel?!"
"Yeah, don’t you remember that the Dog that was infected first had grown arms, and something had crawled through the roof and escaped?"
"Yeah, now that you mention it, I do. I crawled through the roof, must’ve gotten to Palmer." Childs suggested. Mac nodded, and then he gave a grim smile.
"Since we did find this creature, what do we name the thing?" Childs asked, apparently trying to joke.
"That’s a perfect name for it." Mac said.
"What?" Childs asked, confused.
"The Thing. Perfect name for this alien creature." Mac said, giving Childs a smile.
"Yeah…The Thing." Childs said to himself. He turned toward MacReady.
"So, what exactly do we do now?" He asked. Mac looked up; he didn’t exactly know what to do.
"Why don’t we just stay here…see what happens." Mac said, Childs smiled. He started to walk to another part of the camp.
"Where are you going?" MacReady asked. Childs turned around.
"I think it’ll be easier to deal with each if we separate." Childs suggest.
"Weren’t you the one that was bitching about us NOT to separate a minute ago?"
"Yeah, but Mac, trust IS hard to come by nowadays, especially here." Childs said. Then Mac noticed something.
"Childs, your leg is cut." He pointed out. Childs looked down; his leg did have a deep gash in it. He knew what MacReady was thinking. He took some of his blood, walked over to the fire, and placed of it on a burning piece of would. A soft hiss emitted for a result. Mac sighed with relief, and he walked over to Childs.
"For a second there, I thought "The Thing" had infected you for moment. I guess I was wrong." Said Mac.
"That doesn’t mean we can die together." Replied Childs.
"Then I guess this is goodbye." Offered Mac.
"That it is." Replied Childs. He offered him a handshake, and Mac shook it.
"Pleasure working with you, Childs."
"Same to you, R. J. MacReady." And after that, the two men parted ways, giving themselves a final goodbye, for they knew, that in the situation of the storm and everything else, they weren’t going to be leaving here alive. MacReady went back to the destroyed pub area that he was in, while Childs was trying to take refuge in one of the shacks, probably the one that Blair was in. MacReady then checked for chess boards, he was out of stock. Then he saw the one that he had torched before, pouring his drink in the electrical input area. He smirked.
"Cheating bitch…" He mumbled. Then, he fell asleep, finally getting a chance to rest for a long period of time for two days of fighting The Thing.
Three Months Later…
A helicopter touched down near the main building of U.S. Outpost North 31. A squad of men immediately dispatched from it, them keeping their heads down to avoid getting slashed by the helicopter blades. They were a rescue team, trying to find out what happened to the team that was working at Outpost 31. They had a commander named Whitley, and a Captain named Blake. Whitley was mostly the scientific commander, he was here to study how exactly the team died, and they wouldn’t just stupidly step out of the outpost and freeze to death, but by the look of camp from the air, and it seemed that something else had happened. Blake, on the other hand, was more of the commanding type, a hardened soldier, and he will kill anything or do anything to achieve a mission objective, and if that means dispatching some of his teammates, well, such is the price of victory.
"This is goddamn insane." Mumbled one of team members.
"Shut your mouth, Davison. The sooner we find out what happened here, the sooner we go home!" Blake screamed back to Davison, overhearing what he had said. Davison sighed. Nobody wanted to be here, especially in the middle of winter. It was so dark; the team couldn’t really see a thing. Traveling to Antarctica during its "six months of darkness" period didn’t seem like a smart idea. However, orders are orders, and disobeying those means getting discharged from the army. Nobody seemed to want that, so everyone had to follow orders.
Blake and three others reached a shack. Blake tried the door handle, but it was locked.
"Stand back." Blake said. His other three men, Rogers, Kyle, and Jackson stepped back. Blake brought his leg up, and kicked the door, in which it swung open by such a force. The four men stepped in. Rogers seemed to spot something.
"Blake! We’ve got a body!" He pointed.
"Is he alive?" Asked Jackson.
"No, the guy froze to death." Said Kyle, since he was a medic. Blake checked the figure. He was frozen alright, a black, bald-headed mechanic by the looks of it. The dead mechanic even had a nametag. Blake checked the nametag, it read:
Blake touched the communicating button on his walkie-talkie, and he spoke.
"Whitley, this is Blake. Come in over. He got nothing at first, but then he got a response.
"What’ve you got?" Whitley asked.
"One body, identification says Childs, no survivors. And what appears to be a…" Blake was cut off.
"One body? And—and what?"
"It’s some sort of unidentified craft." He paused. He thought Whitley was going to believer him "It looks…" Blake breathed deeply, "Well, like a—a UFO." Then, Blake wasn’t getting a response.
"Colonel?" Blake asked, but he got nothing. "Colonel?!" He asked again, still no response. Blake stood there, confused.
Blake and his squad then arrived at a chunk of a destroyed building. He went inside of what was left and it, and then saw a tape player from across the room, with a tape next to it. Blake walked over to it, and put it into the tape player. He played it, and got nothing. He rewound it a bit, and then started to get something. He rewound it more, than he got the full statement.
"I’m gonna hide this tape when I’m finished. If none of us make it, at least there’ll be some kind of record. The storms been hitting us pretty us hard now for—about 48 hours. One other thing, I think it rips through your clothes when it takes you over. Windows found some shredded long johns. They could be anybody’s. We’re all very tired." The tape started to say some garbled things, inaudible for the shape of the tape, and still, the tape continued. "There’s nothing else I can do, but just wait--R.J. MacReady, helicopter pilot, U.S. Outpost 31." The tape finished. Blake stopped the tape, and thought, "WHAT rips through your clothes when it takes you over? This guy gone nuts?!" Blake stood up, his Machine Gun ready in his hands.
Three Hours Later…
Blake had dealt with many forms of The Thing now, and the teammates he had, Rogers, Jackson, and Kyle, they were all infected by the creature. They turned against him. How the hell could he lose all those men by one single organism? He knew that there was more to this mission than he thought, and he had a feeling that he and his team were lied to about this mission, or did some of them still think that he lied to the team about it? Blake was now back outside, trying to fight the gale force wind, when he stumbled upon a destroyed shack. Seeing as that someone might be there, he ran to it. He arrived at a destroyed doorway, checking all around, when he saw another frozen body. He walked toward it; the now deceased man had long brown hair, and a scruffy beard. He checked the nametag simply walking up to the body, and a horrified expression came across his face.
"It’s…MacReady!" He said with a gurgling choke. So, MacReady was dead too. He and Childs must’ve been the only ones who survived The Thing. Therefore, Blake considered his mission complete. Survivors had been found, at least, what’s left of them. Blake knelt down. MacReady had a smile on him. So, the son of a bitch died smiling, something rare for Mac. Blake started to leave, when he looked back at the body.
"Rest now, Mac. I’ll take care of that creature for you." He said with pride, then, he went back into the storm. The body of MacReady seemed to smile again, as if it heard Blake, surely agreeing with his plan. MacReady had waited for death, and it had reached him, but it wasn’t by the hands of The Thing, it was by the hands of his own will, for Mother Nature’s "white death" of Antarctica had taken his life. As it seems, the smile on his face indicated that he wanted it that way more than anything else.