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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1378777-The-Beasts
by Sita
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Sci-fi · #1378777
An 'insane' girl knows the truth.
          It was a haunting task to sit down at this table with this pen and this notebook and record the horrors of my life. It’s true that the doctors here think ‘the Beasts’ are all just in my head, a mixture of horror movies and a cracked brain but they are real. One day when the Beasts take over this Earth they will read this diary and they will realize that if my race had believed me they would be the ones extinct not us. I don’t even know how I ended up in their hands I just awoke one day strapped to their table. I remember it like it was yesterday…

         My head is pounding as I force my eyes to open and I take my first glance around the room. It’s unfamiliar, cold, and made completely of stone. I try to move my arm but find it strapped to the table. That’s when the panic starts. “The subject has awakened,” a voice announced. “How strange,” another voice answered. I open my mouth to speak, to tell them that I want out but no words escape. I feel my eyes sting with tears as the desire to escape floods my body. The owners of the voices finally step out of the shadows and I quickly found my voice. I screamed and thrashed against the metal table desperate to escape this nightmare. The Beasts, for that is the only word I could find to describe them, sound so human but their eyes are blood red and their human-like skin hangs grotesquely off their bodies a sickly shade of yellow. They watch me with the intensity of researchers and I continue to scream. One of them steps forward and pulls a syringe from its pocket. As the liquid enters my body I feel myself relax and then the darkness claims me.

         The next time I open my eyes I am in a new room. One made of red stone with a dirt floor. I look around and find that there is no one there but me. Completely and utterly alone in this strange world. I force myself not to cry because there would be no point in that action. I’m only in the room for what feels like a short while before the door opens and a Beast enters. It makes quick work of kidnapping me and taking me to another room where it straps me to a table. I closed my eyes as the Beast ran its hands over my body lightly pulling and pushing my skin. Then it pulled out a scalpel and began to cut me. First my arm and then my stomach. I forced myself not to scream. Only when they pressed the blade against my chest did I let out a blood-curling scream. It continued to poke and prod my body all the time pausing to write on a metal clipboard. It frown at it pushed my brown hair from my face to example my eyes. “Ordinary,” it mumbled sounding oddly disappointed.

         “Where has she been?” I recognized my mother’s voice and I bolted upright. I now lay on a hospital bed surrounded by family and doctors. My mother took me into her arms, “Oh, my baby, my poor baby.” The tears began to pour as I realized that I was home, that I was safe. “Mommy, it was horrible,” I cried sounding like a child, “They looked like they were from a different planet but they sounded so...normal. And they poked me and cut me. I don’t understand…why’d they let me go?” My mother studied me her brown eyes shinning with shock, “What are you talking about? The police found you in the sewers and there’s not a mark on your body.” I slowly lifted my shirt to reveal uncut skin my heart began to pound, “But they kidnapped me! I know they did!”

          I shouldn’t have said anything that day I was returned home. I should have kept my mouth shut and thought before I spoke. But I didn’t and now I’m trapped here with no one to believe me. With no one knowing the truth in my story they will come here and kidnap more humans. I believe they are making an army of the strongest, the most unusual humans and then they will kill the ones they do not put in their army. I am glad that they released me, now I can die in peace knowing I at least TRIED to save the human race.
© Copyright 2008 Sita (lathenia at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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