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“Who the fuck are they?”
“I guess you’d say they’re our owners.” She grins, as if that’s not a completely horrific thing to have said.
“We’ve been captured by slavers?”
“Not quite. Sorry, I forget that’s a thing on Earth now.”
“That’s a weird way to say that thing.”
“Yeah. There’re going to be a lot of weird things you’re going to hear and see. You’re going to freak the fuck out. I guarantee it.”
That makes me very determined not to freak the fuck out. I stop asking questions and I start thinking back to the last thing I remember. If my brain serves me correctly, or indeed, at all, I was in a field somewhere, approaching a village. There were people inside and they were yelling at me, and I was yelling at them, and….
I’m lying on the ground, bleeding out from a hole in my leg and something massive and green and entirely inhuman is picking me up…
And now I’m here.
In a white room. In a clean place. Alive. Not dead.
I look down at my leg, but I’m wearing white scrubs and I’m not pulling them down in front of this stranger to see if I’m wounded. I think I can trust my memory enough to know that I was.
“I was shot by some villagers.”
“Yeah. They don’t like city people. They’re very insular. They kill anybody who gets too close. I heard all about it. You got lucky. More than once, actually.”
“I want out of this bubble or whatever it is. It’s not glass. It’s not going to shatter if I break it, right?”
“Don’t break it. They’ll get angry.”
“Who the fuck are they?”
“The owners.”
She giggles again, like she has a fun secret that she isn’t going to let me in on. This is getting frustrating. I’m starting to feel like she’s fucking with me, and I’m starting to feel like I’m trapped. Neither one of those things pleases me.
“I think they’re coming…” she says, a moment before a very deep, very authoritarian voice that immediately rubs me the wrong way rumbles through the air.
“What are you doing, Jenn?”
“The other human woke up,” she says, answering someone outside. “And she’s kinda mad.”
A big blue alien walks into the room. I instantly know he’s an alien, because no human has ever looked the way this guy looks. Also, I’ve seen one before. In the brief moments before I passed out from blood loss, I saw a creature just like this one, though he was kind of green, and this one is blue, with cascading blue hair.
No sooner has this massive blue dude entered the room than another one follows in his wake. The other one is slightly shorter, and bulkier maybe? His hair is definitely shorter, which is probably one of the only ways to tell them apart. They share what I want to call a familial resemblance, something about the way their eyes, noses and mouths are… basically, you can tell that they must be siblings, or cousins or… what the fuck do I care?
All that really matters is that there’re now two big blue scaled aliens with big tusks and fangs in the room. It’s starting to get crowded out there.
The aliens look at one another and I can just tell by their expressions that they’re talking somehow. Their faces contort with expressions, but no words are coming out of their mouths.
“Do they not speak?” I ask the girl the question. I already know they talk. One of them talked to her not a minute ago.
“They can speak,” Jennifer says. “But they naturally talk in their heads. There’s a lot of this. You should probably get used to it.”
Getting used to aliens is not something I plan to do, but what’s annoying me far more than the aliens in this moment is the fact that I am still imprisoned for reasons I do not understand and wouldn’t tolerate even if I did.
I back up a few steps, as far as I can, and I just fucking run, throwing myself at the place I’m pretty sure the barrier is.
It works.
