2 : שתיים

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Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.

-Arthur C Clarke

🔭

No. Impossible.

Her eyes must be betraying her brain. Her pupils must be rebelling against reality.

There had to be reasoning behind the craziness that they were proposing. She was a patron of science, an enemy of fiction. There was no way that the men she was observing were real.

Was this a movie scene? Were they actors? She looked around for cameras, microphones, explanations. Nothing familiar appeared. She was alone in the jungle with six naked men.

Her breath teleported out of her lungs.

The men– no– the humanoids, looked like wild titans. The styles and lengths of their black, pin-straight hair varied– from short to long and from braided to cascading. They were massive, all ranging from six to seven feet tall. Four of them were tanned while two had a much darker complexion.

The one thing they all shared was the reptilian-like scales that covered different parts of their bodies, their black eyes that could make demons cower, and their claw-tipped fingers.

Kira pressed a hand against her chest, afraid that they could hear the thunderstorm that had become her heartbeat. Fear lassoed around her neck like a leash, guiding her backward.

There has to be an explanation. There has to be science.

She clung to her purse, afraid of losing her last connection to normality. Her swaying knees were barely able to execute her brain's command to run. The men's voices became fainter with every step, but the distance didn't change the scene. She was still in the thick wilderness, far from the modernization of the year 2203 and the safety of Washington DC.

Spotting some crawl space between a tall tree and a rock, she scurried into the hole like a terrified prey, not caring to check if any creatures called it home.

She protected her purse against her heaving chest and pulled her legs close. Her knees bled along with her thoughts, staining both her skirt and sanity.

This is a hallucination. It isn't real.

Panic wove through her skin like a needle through cloth, poking holes into her esophagus. She tossed her head left and right, looking for answers within the trees and leaves. There was nothing but green. The color stalked her irises, tormenting them with its horrid tyranny.

She was sure that she smiled with relief when blackness rescued her.

– •   

Her empty intestines dragged her back to the green. Groggily, she dug into her purse to retrieve her cellphone. The screen lit up, showing her wallpaper in which she was holding an academy trophy while smiling brightly. She looked so free of worry within the cage of pixels.

She gripped the phone tighter, wishing she could relive the moment just one last time.

The digits on the screen declared that it was eight PM in Washington DC. She had arrived at the NASA headquarters at three PM, so five hours had rolled by since she teleported.

The aching in her stomach worsened. She rubbed it, unable to offer anything but comfort. There was no way in the universe that she was going to step out of her hole. She'd rather starve than get discovered by the males.

Would they hurt her? Rape her? She had no idea what kind of society they ran– if any.

She hugged her legs, noting that her white pencil skirt was now stained.

In a pathetic attempt to distract herself from the pending death in her starved stomach, she closed her eyes and sought sleep. Her act of rebellion against nature was lost hours later when her stomach began to contemplate eating itself. In a move of desperation, she stepped out of her safety bubble.

The night's cool was gone, and the blazing sun had returned. With a shaky inhale, she began the search for food– barefoot, since she had lost her heels.

All of the plants around her looked normal. There was nothing alien about them. She heard birds chirping up above, but didn't see any. She hadn't seen any creatures either, that is, excluding the six males she had seen the previous day.

They are males, right?

Her PhD had little to do with biology, but as far as she knew, males tended to carry a set of balls and a cock between their legs. Judging from the scary appendages that those men owned, they fit in the category.

Dots of red captured her attention. There was a bush littered with what seemed to look like berries. They were too fat to be berries, but they were a cousin of some sort.

Were they safe?

She picked up a skinny twig and poked a single one, waiting for something terrible to drip out. Nothing happened, and she took that as a good sign.

With an approving clench of her stomach, she reached out.

Vrox stepped over the group of tifs. The round, five-inch creatures didn't look very threatening, but they worked well in numbers. The balls of terror liked to camouflage against plants and attack prey by biting poison into them. Vrox was too big for their interest, so they were not a threat.

He walked with a lowered guard. He was on the outskirts of the jungle, where the dangers were minimal. A strange coloring caught his eye. He stopped walking and watched a creature interact with a bush that he could tell was full of tifs. The creature was short and its legs were covered with a white coat. It stood at a puny five-feet of height– serving as the perfect victim.

It was when he got a better look at the creature's face that he realized it wasn't an animal, but a boy.

"Gun!" he warned.

The boom of his voice tackled the child to his back. Vrox wasted no time in running over, wrapping his arms around him, and separating him from the infested plant.

The child's gratitude came in the form of vigorous kicks, whines, and jerks. Vrox couldn't help but wonder how something so young had such energy. He was a mere breath of life, yet had the determination of death.

To ease his struggles, Vrox returned him to the ground. The decision was instantly regretted when the boy turned and ran toward the jurisdiction of danger.

With a piqued growl, he gave chase.

THIS STORY WAS REWRITTEN WITH NEW SCENES. THE NEW VERSION IS FREE ON MY WEBSITE: www.lutionary.com

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