The Varkari

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Copyright © 2021 Iola Jones. All rights reserved. This is an original work that is not to be copied or altered and redistributed in any form. Any character(s) or reference to original character(s) may not be reproduced, claimed, or used in any other works without permission and are the sole property of I. Jones.

That being said... THIS BOOK IS NOT FOR EVERYONE. It was written to test reader cultural relativity and empathy. No, you will not always understand why a character does what they do. The purpose is to introduce you to a culture or way that is not your own. If you feel that this pushes your capability of broader thinking, then don't even try. This is not a quick, chick flick read. This is dirty, gritty, and has character development over many heavily considered chapters. There is no instant gratification. If you don't get it, fine. If you don't like it, fine. At the end of the day, it is to ask yourself..."Can I imagine that I was raised in a different world? A different scenario? A different culture?"

Full book is on Patreon only!

Mature themes including sex, manipulation, traumatic events, and murder.

I had a terrible feeling in my gut. It weighed my bones down and made my hands tremble as I searched through dusty cupboards, my heart leaping when my feet scuffed or scraped the once-clean floors of this house. The broken windows allowed nature in and even me, but I doubted I would find any nourishment here.

Closing the last cupboard as quietly as I could, I decided to get out. It had been three years of this. Three years of scrounging around in the wreckage of a world that had been so easy to live in. Now, every day was a struggle.

The Varkari had descended upon the planet about four years ago, and initially they had been peaceful. People took their arrival much better than anticipated, but we had been prepped with movies and Area 51 for years, right? World governments eagerly met with them to discuss the condition of the planet and to barter knowledge and technology for something precious to the aliens. Women.

When word got out that they wanted women, human women, we were shocked. Some were terrified and some were angry that those in power even considered such a trade. Protests with posters and picket signs turned into mobs attempting to storm the areas where they landed to meet and collect any women who wanted to volunteer. But that was just it, women who wanted a new chance at life or something exotic signed up and that had to be respected, too.

It seemed like once they got a taste for our own, they became voracious and the news channels played videos of more ships landing every day until they had created a base of sorts. They assembled a small city, right on the outskirts of Chicago, a hub of human activity and heavily populated.

The UN met frequently to discuss developments, planning to assimilate them into our economies if they desired, hoping to set up trade. America, with its oversized military, was threatened, and repeatedly voted to end their permission to stay if they did not fully share their weaponry. As expected, politicians inflamed conservatives, bugling that they were a threat to the country and constitution and would soon take every firearm away to disable them. Of course, the Varkari had never suggested such things, but what better to instigate a battle than a bunch of riled-up, armed protestors? And that's exactly what they did.

A huge group of men, decked in militia gear with hand-painted signs, brought their AR-15s, Berettas, shotguns, and pistols ready to use. If the Varkari didn't leave right then, they would kill every last alien piece of filth. So when a squad of four Varkari soldiers exited their compound to discuss terms with the men, what did they do? Immediately open fired.