An Alien Love: Sex And Space (Book 1)

My only friend is a plastic cup.

*Chapter 5*

Once again, Murry woke, confused, but this time no pain. At least not pain from someone hurting him.

He rolled over to ease the ache in his shoulder from sleeping on the floor. His eyes opened to bright light and a pink ceiling. He sat and looked around. The square room he was in was empty except for a low metal coffee table. Everything was pink. Pink walls, ceiling, floor. Running his hand over the floor, he touched it carefully. The surface felt smooth, like one giant tile from a hardware store.

Murry came to his feet and stared down at his naked body. Nervously, Murry slipped his hand over his arms and legs, expecting pain. Surprisingly, he seemed alright. Well, he was alright, other than he was on an alien ship. Sighing with relief, he rose. What to do now?

After checking several other parts of his body, Murry walked around the pink room. He discovered two doors. One didn't open. That exit had no handle latches or hinges. The opening was merely an outline in the wall. The second door led into a small white room. A hole was in the corner of the floor. When he stared in, there was only a black nothing.

A short, stubby green tube was on the opposite side of the area. The spout was like a cut-off garden hose. When Murry stepped under the pipe, he was instantly blasted with cold water. He jumped out of the spray, shivering and slicking drops off his chest. He tried again to get under the water, but he only washed his hands before the cold made his fingers numb.

As he waved his arms, he glanced at where the hairy alien had eaten him. The skin was healed with scabs forming. He studied his other injuries. Most of the cuts and deeper wounds were either scabbed over or faint scars. The little water that had spayed him removed portions of the dried blood.

For a second, Murry considered returning to the spay to remove all the blood, but a second shiver shot down his spine. He didn't have the energy to stand under cold water. Turning away from what he guessed was his bathroom, he headed back into his new living quarters.

Since there was nothing to explore but the table, Murry sat at the sleek silver coffee table. He ran his hands over the metal. Unlike the hose, nothing happened. Next, he tried to pick up the table. The furniture didn't move. He felt around the top and then underneath it. Frustrated, Murry began to pace. So... this was his prison?

Wandering, Murry walked over to the corner and curled up next to the wall. His arm hurt slightly from sleeping on his shoulder on the hard surface. He adjusted until he was in a tight ball and wished for clothes or food. Briefly, he wondered where Keltrix was and if the alien wanted to leave him here. Did JP put him in this cell to keep him out of the way? Murry fell back asleep feeling more alone than he'd ever felt in his life.

Days passed. One day was like the next. Murry had zero sense of time and would have given anything to have a clock. He woke, and sometimes, a green goop in a plastic cup would be on the table. Murry would try to drink down as much of the muck as he could before pouring the rest of the liquid into the toilet hole. He dodged the water sprayer and sat on the floor, making a drum beat with the plastic-type cup.

After another few days, Murry became an expert at the games he could create with one cup. He played catch. He rolled it back and forth. He balanced the cup on the side of the table. More days passed. He cried, or he screamed. He talked to himself and counted as high as he could go. He paced.

Sleeping, Murry was abruptly jarred out of his slumber by two tentacles wrapping around his waist. His eyes popped open. Keltrix stood over him, looking furious.

Roughly, the alien hauled Murry to his feet and began to drag him across the room.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Murry stumbled into what he labeled as the bathroom.