Peculiar (Under Editing)

~The Beginning~

It's four a.m on a crisp November Saturday morning, pale yellow light peaked its head atop the horizon, as the mornings came early. It was around fifty degrees fahrenheit, as the average was around sixty-five. I was soaring above the small Alabamian town. My roots in the Peculiar species gifted me with these wings, as was our natural form. Oppositely, I had the choice to hide them. I flew just high enough to avoid prying eyes, but low enough to enjoy the sights of the city. My eyes had genetically grown to resist the wind when flying, so the deafening wind plummeting my face was nothing more than a breeze.

About a day ago, I had been spotted when I landed in an alley to hide my wings. The two teenagers had done nothing but stare, but I was to make sure that was the only thing they do. I had tracked them back home, and was now going to either kill them, or put them in such pain that they never speak again. Neither was an appealing option, but I haven't been seen, not once, since my crash landing here about 150 years ago. It was one or the other. I was entering the neighborhood where they lived. It was the weekend, no one would be up this early. My entrance would be silent, my exit would be swift. I needed it to be that way; my existence on this planet relied on secrecy. Neighborhoods like these were build the same; same roof, same flooring, same layout. The only thing separating them was their location. I kept my eyes trained to the ground, scanning for the exact house. I found it only minutes later. Their house sat on the corner, touching two roads. I banked left, dipping down in altitude. Their front door was painted a lovely shade of maroon, a wreath decorated with white flowers hung at it's center. The lawn was neat, freshly cut, perhaps the previous day. Below the window was a row of trimmed, square hedge bushes, dotted with white flowers in the front. On the other wall were vines, crawling up the wall, its spindly arms extending far beyond its leaves. Again, white flowers were planted in front. I circled the house around to the side, narrowing my icey blue eyes. I was hoping to get in through a window, which I spotted just moments later. I spiraled down in a landing, immediately going to my knees on touchdown to reduce noise. Raising, I dusted myself off, as it had rained the night before, and the mud was thick. Satisfied, I took ginger steps towards the window.

Will it be unlocked? I asked myself, placing my hands on the small rim of the window.

I gave a slight pull upwards, raising the window with ease.

Who in the right of mind leaves their windows unlocked in the winter? I shook my head in a surprised manor. The window was now raised as far as it could go. Taking a deep breath, I jumped up and placed both my knees on the brick, still slightly moist.

The room I entered was silent, pitch dark. No fans, TV's or radios echoed through the house. The only noise came from the faint, gentle sound of breathing. Was this the parents room? I crawled in, pushing off in a small jump. I held my weight till I hit the carpet, making my landing softer. I glanced up into the room, wiping away the sweat in my palms. I rose and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Once I could see, I took in a good sweeping look at my surroundings. The parents, I assumed, were sound asleep in a queen bed, nightstands were on each side. To my right was a black dresser, sizing up to my waist. To my left was a bookshelf, piled to the brim. The room also held a small desk and chair, another bookshelf, and an electric keyboard. I closed my eyes for a second. This would be my first human activity in a while, and, without a doubt, I am nervous.

I made it out of the parents room without any fumbles, and continued my way down the hallway. Out of the bedroom, the flooring switched from carpet to wooden tile, making it harder to mask the sound of my footsteps. After a few feet, there was an opening to my right, which lead to the kitchen. It was open at the end, which gave you full view of the dining room. After another glance, I kept going, taking small, cautious steps. Another opening, this time on both sides. The one to my left was the walkway and front door; my right led to the opening for the living room. I curved around the closet walls, which was attached to the walkway. Another hallway greeted me, holding, what I assumed to be a bedroom, bathroom, and office. The only thing I came here for was the boys. I made a left turn, which lead me straight to the room. I pushed, carefully, open the cracked door. Their room was a neutral blue, decorated with posters of famous celebrities, sports teams, and signed autographs. They slept in separate twin beds on the left wall. I stepped in the room, turning the handle and closing the door gently. I quickly hid my wings, who had been trailing the ground the whole time; I had forgotten about them.

I reached in my coat pocket, pulling out a dagger, one I had stolen from my homeworld. I kept it with me at all times. With one precise and swift motion, they would be dead without a sound. With a tight grip on the dagger, I stepped forward to the first bed, examining the young man. The boy had dark shaggy hair with green eyes, acne covered his face. He seemed to be the youngest of the two. Taking yet another deep breath, I gathered myself for the actions I was about to perform. As my next step touched the ground, a crackling sound hit my ears. It was loud, loud enough to wake light sleepers. I froze dead in my tracks, closing an even tighter grip around the dagger. No sound followed... no one had woken. I glanced down to see what I had stepped on, turning out to be an empty soda bottle tossed after use. Now slightly annoyed, I finished my trek to the side of the bed. I raised my other hand and clenched the handle, raising it up for the strike. Doubt and fear was flooding into my head, making me dizzy. Could I do this?

You've killed before, I answered myself, whynot do it again?

I felt my pair of hearts, yes two, beat faster. Yes, I've killed, but there was a war! I was fighting for my people! This is murder! I shook my head, feeling a drop of sweat run down my temple. I twirled the dagger in my hands, trying to stall.

Do it, came a voice in my head. Is this not protecting yourself? They saw you, remember?

It was an accident! This is ridiculous! I'm arguing with myself! I felt a slight tremble in my hands as I made another twirl with the dagger.

I would close my eyes. Yes! A perfect solution! I would close my eyes, then make the kill. I nodded my head, finalizing the decision. I stopped the tremble, and firmed up my grip. I wiped the sweat, now at my cheek, with my shoulder. You would do it. This is protecting yourself. They saw you, remember? I felt a smile tug at the corner of my lips. I raised the dagger even higher, about to bring it down into this man's heart.

But there was no stabbing. There was no dagger. There was no teenager in the bed below me. It was all gone. Suddenly, I was on the floor, severe pain rushing from my head. What was that? Confusion flood my eyes. I rolled over, looking up at the ceiling. My vision blurred on the edges, just as a dark figure came into view. It bent down, I felt fear and confusion coming off it in waves. Then, hands wrapped around my forearm, dragging me backward and around the bed. I heard muffled shuffling noises, footsteps, and words being exchanged. Nothing I was able to make out. The hands dragged me to a enclosed space, a closet, without a doubt. My feet and legs were shoved inside, my arms splayed on top of me. I knew the doors closed, as darkness enclosed me like a cold blanket. I heard mumblings outside the door, and I still couldn't make them out. I closed my eyes, listening intently. I caught bits and pieces.

"Should we... tell..."

"No... interesting... happened..."

"...killed... me!"

"...outnumber....two...one..."

"Locks....door...."

I reached out as far as I could, straining my hearing.

"Good God, what was that thing?"

And then, there was nothing. 

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Hello again! Welcome to the second chapter. It's kind of the first, if you don't count the Exposition. Either way works for you. 

That's all, 

~Galli