Random Stories and Poems

Discovery

Trigger warning: mention of blood

"Let. Me. Out!"

I slammed my fists against the glass casing but to no avail. I punched, kicked, smacked, basically I just caused a racket until somebody, anybody came over to my cell. Right, my cell. A barren box with three grey padded walls and a glass one. All that was in it was a lumpy, slightly crushed mattress and a knocked over bucket, thankfully empty. In my rage I barely even caught sight of a blinking red light in one corner which was probably a camera. Everything was covered in bouncy stone-coloured squares, almost as if my captors thought I would manage to injure myself with...walls?

I scratched at my wrist, terror slowly seeping into every pore of my body, lightning zipping through each cell. Where was everybody? Better yet, where was I?

The pale green garments I wore weren't helping either; they may have been loose and light but I felt suffocated, like I was strapped into a straitjacket or something else just as tight. The only clothes that were originally mine were my mud-stained combat boots, and those technically aren't even clothes. They'd even taken my socks? Reaching up to my neck though, I froze. Whoever they were had tied a choker there. I tugged harshly, but all it did was snap back into place, asphyxiating me and causing my collapse onto the floor. The strangling stopped as the sound of snake hissing filled the air.

Turning around, I jolted away from the glass, pressing my back against the pads. From the bottom up, this thing was quite clearly a monster. An alien. Violet scales ran up and down its lower half because it didn't have legs, instead they were moulded together to form a single tail, six feet long. As my eyes travelled up towards its face, I noticed it had webbed fingers and the hissing sound, well that came from the hundreds of tiny snakes flinging themselves around its head like a halo, or more accurately like hair. Its hot pink irises clashed with my own ultramarine.

"A Panscupi, how useless," it tutted disdainfully.

I let out a dark snarl. "What are you and what do you want from me?-"

"—I am of the Xekorevians—"

"—Monster."

"I am no monster," it spoke. "After all, have you seen yourself? You are the one with blue colouring and gills."

The glass wall which separated us dematerialised in a few moment's notice, but before I could launch myself at the Xekorev and before it could end me, the shuttle tilted violently from side-to-side, throwing me across the room and face first into the metal plating outside my prison.

Drops of blood trickled down my body and yet a grin of knives painted itself across my face. The old gods had returned, and they were hungry for revenge.