Page 3 of Alien Abduction for Pirates
Ilook down the cliff and my heart beats even faster. It's a long way down. My stomach quenches at the sight and I step back to get my breath back. I've been afraid of heights ever since I can remember. At one point, even the thought of standing this close to the edge of a sheer cliff would have given me an anxiety attack. Today though, it's different. Iwantto be here. I will only have to fight the fear a little longer.
The bottom of the valley calls to me. The stones are black, of volcanic origin, and barely covered by vegetation. They'll make a hard bed, but by the time I lie on them, I won't feel it anymore. I won't feel anything anymore. That's the purpose of all this. I want it all to stop. Life sucks and it's not kept any of its promises. There's nothing left for me.
My parents are dead. My fiancé is dead. My dreams are dead, too. My life no longer has a purpose and I see it for what it is: a waste. It's time to put an end to it.
The wind tousles my hair, pushing a few strands of my jet-black locks into my face. A storm is coming. The clouds above are racing across the sky, grey and foreboding. If I was here to hike, I'd seek shelter from the elements about now. But I'm not here on holiday.
I've left an envelope on my suitcase in the little bed and breakfast I checked into last night. Some money for the owner, as an apology for the inconvenience. An explanation that this was my choice, that I wasn't killed by someone else. And the key to my little flat back in Glasgow. I don't have any family left who could inherit my belongings, so I assume my landlord will simply throw them out and get a new tenant. One who always pays their bills on time, unlike me. I've been job hunting for so long that I can barely remember having a regular income.
I take a deep breath and step forward again until the tips of my walking boots are at the very edge of the cliff. The ground up here is muddy and the bottoms of my trousers are wet with dew and moor water. Scotland is a wet place, I realised that again today. I won't make it any wetter with tears. My eyes are dry. There's no point in crying. This is my choice.
I relax my body, pushing away all the stress of the moment. I want to be happy during the moment I die. I'm going to fly and I will feel true freedom.
With one last look at the beautiful yet broody sky, I walk into nothingness.
I fall.
Fall.
Fly.
And then I stop falling. Suddenly, the wind no longer kisses my face. All sound has vanished, as has any kind of movement. I'm hovering in the air, suspended by a force I can't see. Nor can I understand what's happening. Is this death? Have I already landed at the bottom of the cliff and this is just an echo? The beginning of the afterlife? I had really hoped there wouldn't be any such thing.
A strange, glaring light envelops me. It covers me from all sides, yet the sun is still hidden behind clouds. What the fuck...
I'm yanked up and I scream. For the first time today, I'm afraid.
As if someone put a rope around my waist, I'm pulled upwards, bum first, my arms and legs dangling. I struggle even though there's nothing to struggle against. Maybe I'm being sucked into hell. That would be just my luck. While there was no wind during that moment of stasis, it's now stronger than ever. My shirt rides up my belly and I wish I'd kept on my jacket. I try to reach for it and pull it down in the silly hope that clothes can protect me from whatever's happening, but I can't reach it with the wind fighting my every move. Instead, it's pushed up even more until it's around my neck like a scarf, exposing my entire front. And I'm not wearing a bra. I'd wanted to be comfortable during death and I've always hated wearing bras.
The world beneath me is quickly disappearing. The Cuillin mountains on the Isle of Skye, the place I'd selected as my final destination, now look as tiny as the fake mountains of my late grandpa's model railway. And still, I'm rising, pulled up relentlessly. I must be close to the clouds soon. It's freezing, but I'm not sure if I'm shivering because of the cold or fear.I’m finding it harder to breathe.
The moment I enter the first cloud, I close my eyes. I'm not sure I want to see any of what's about to happen. Angels jumping around on fluffy clouds. A gate leading to heaven, guarded by some saint with a large golden key. Virgins waiting to be deflowered.
What I get instead is a spaceship. There’s no doubt that’s what it is. The swirling metal that seems to move like quicksilver while I look at it, the way it hovers above the cloud without a sound, the light that vanishes into a circular hole in the middle of it. This is a textbook flying saucer and I’m the helpless human being abducted.
For some reason, I find it easier to believe in an alien abduction than in angels dancing on clouds. I’ve always hoped that there’smoreout there, not just our puny little planet that we’re on the best track of destroying.
I am sucked into the spaceship, bum first, my breasts on full display. Not exactly the way I’d have imagined first contact. The force pulling me abates as soon as I’m inside a dark room. I get one last look down at the clouds below before the hatch closes, leaving me in complete darkness. I’m gently lowered to the floor. It’s surprisingly warm, even though it feels like metal. The floor vibrates ever so softly, but I can’t hear the sound of any engines.
Behind me, a door slides open with a barely audible whoosh and I stagger to my feet to face my abductors. I only see the alien’s silhouette as he – she? – stands in the doorway. Behind them is bright light, similar but not quite as intense as the glaring light that enveloped me while I was sucked up through the air.
The figure is huge, at least seven feet tall. To my relief, they only have two arms and two legs. No tail, no extra limbs. They don’t look like a squid or beast either. The only alien thing about them is their height and two large horns that curve from the sides of their head. Plus a decidedly purple skin colour, visible even against the light. For some strange reason, this gives me hope that I’m not here to be their dinner. That’s completely irrational, I know that. They could be hostile, no matter the way they look.
Without warning, the room is drenched in light. I squeeze my eyes shut and cover them with my hands. It’s too bright, like looking right at the sun.
“Why are you exposing your udders?” a booming voice – most definitely male – echoes through the room.
I think I’d prefer the angels after all.
3
Aedan
The female presents her udders to me, proudly pushing out her chest. She must be in heat. Not quite what I was expecting, but I won’t complain.
For a human, she’s surprisingly attractive. She’s tiny, yet voluptuous. Her hips are wide, promising that she’ll be a good breeder. If I decide not to keep her, she’ll fetch a good price on the black market. Not that I’d ever sell her as a slave. I’d persuade her to choose a male as her mate and then take the credits they’d usually pay for a slave. My last abductee found a wonderful home that way.
Done with the presentation of her assets – truly beautiful udders that I want to squeeze and nibble on – she pulls down her shirt before covering her face again with her hands. Is this some kind of courtship ritual? I’ve not been to Peritus before and Professor Katila didn’t allow us much time for researching its inhabitants. At least she provided us with an update to our translator implants, allowing us to talk to the female in her language until she gets her own implant.
