Love to publish someday. Scifi, aliens, fighting arena, edit and rewrite in progress. |
”Are we there yet?” asked Auria, sweat beading from her brow. “No. What's wrong with you?” asked Gen. “You're sweating.” She swiped fingers into short, red hair. Seeing a bench up ahead, she hurried to sit down and rest. Aelion spoke. “What she's experiencing is a 'one-time-event' due to the planet's radiation. It's a natural occurrence associated with our accelerated-healing effects.” Gen laughed. “So, if we ever leave, we'll get sick. It's like some kind of addiction, right?” “I've never left, so, I wouldn't know.” he replied. “You wouldn't.” said Sot. “I feel sick too.” said 238, laying down in the grass. The baby monkey jumped, rolled into a ball, fell over a wall and into the lake below. “You tool.” yelled Gen, grabbing Aelion by the collar and shaking him. “What did you do to us?” “It's natural to feel this way.” “That's what you tell the lamb before the slaugh...” Gen released Aelion and slumped to the ground, his legs giving way to gravity. Sot held Gen's limp skull in one hand and reached a long arm, slapping Aelion with the other. The face changed shape for a moment, then returned to its normal-looking hue of beige upon blush cheeks. “I scratched... You're not bleeding...” Sot gasped, falling beside Gen. “You tricked... us.” Aelion quickly bent over at the waist, holding his stomach with bulging eyes and a wide-open mouth. Suddenly, his body flipped where it stood, landing him directly on his head. In the glaring light, Sot glimpsed Auria above him, pulling his monkey arm. Black eyes gazed for a moment. He smiled, showing whitened teeth before succumbing to the usual, unknown illness. In the distance, a flapping set of wings grew ever closer, booming deep inside deafening ears. “Wake up.” said Auria. “Wake up.” The ape searched the room, seeing the human girl talking with a standing, winged beast. Aelion laid on a table with rows of rope binding legs and arms, ropes spilling beneath the table and back around. The entire crew were there, though not a single one stirred, except Auria. “Gen told me to watch Aelion.” she said. “I never trusted him.” “I honestly think what happened to you was... what happened to all of us.” said the winged creature. “It's a natural sickness. The radiation has to purge your body. It's alright. Trust Aelion. No-one here is going to hurt you.” “I'll be the judge of that.” she said. Sot leaned forward and mumbled. Auria lurched over him, leaning a distant ear ever closer, one hand cradling behind it. “He's probably right.” Sot mumbled. “Who's right... Gen?” she asked. “He said we should kill them all.” “No.” Sot huffed. “Why aren't you sick?” “My period is starting soon. I don't know when I'm sick and when I'm not. I don't even know what I'm doing right now. Did you see me do it? Did you? I did it. I used the gift and kicked someone's ass. I didn't think I could ever do it again. It makes me look fat, though. I don't know. Tell me, did you like that shit... or not?” The drab-green, winged alien thought long and hard, then tapped a wire hanging beneath its beak. A light flashed from the wire to a small, circular glass next to its eye. A camera began to scan the room, then zoomed in on Auria. She moved frantically from one comrade to the next, tilting heads and feeling chests for movement. Going back to Sot, she stopped to chat. “If you add in the genetic modifications, and the training, and almost dying, and that radiation thingy from this place, and I think it's going to be some kind of super-period.” said Auria. “If there is such a thing. What if I explode or something? Why does Gen always say things about killing everyone? Someday, he's going to get in trouble when he kills everyone. Is it wrong to think about killing people, all the time? Is it just me? Oh my God, I am getting fatter.” “Call them all. We have a problem here.” said the winged alien while smiling to a startled Auria. “Ma'am, are you alright?” “No, I'm not. I'm so hungry, I could kill for food.” “You shouldn't be hungry. The planet's...” Auria stood and screamed. “I don't care about the planet, just get me some damned food, now.” “Just... don't beat me up like you did Aelion.” The flyer dug two long fingers into a pouch. “Here, take my Father's watch. But, please, don't hurt me.” He handed her a shining, golden, mechanical device on a chain. Auria accepted, smiled and hung it around her neck, still admiring the golden flashes and listening to the gentle ticking. She grabbed the winged beast and hugged him, crying. “Thank you, so much. I've never had a gift like this before. Does this mean we're engaged?” From behind her neck, he whispered into the wire. “Please hurry. I think she's delusional.” “What's that?” she scoffed. “Nothing dear. I only want you to be happy.” Later that evening, Auria sat alone on a bed, staring at the floor. Red eyes curled upwards, though the head hung low. A white gown draped across shoulders, leading into long, white sleeves criss-crossing around her torso and tied in the back. A dabble of drool dripped, completely touching the floor before the sinuous string of spittle broke and fell. A row of silver bars ran across the window as well as the front door. Three, large beasts dressed in white uniforms circled a tall desk outside the room, each nursing wounds and bruises. Behind them, an non-stop line of alien creature each nursed wounds, wore metal braces from arms and legs or simply slept. Not one word was spoken, none needed. Inside another room, Gen awoke to find himself strapped to the wall. He shook violently inside a white gown with exceptionally-long arms, just like Auria's. “What the hell is this?” he asked. From inside another room came a reply. “You don't want to know.” 238 leaned over a desk. A huge, fat, horned beast sat staring into a window. While questioning him, each word appeared on a screen as 238 whistled his story. The horned creature rubbed the sharp appendages above its eyes and read from another screen. “So, you say, you're the leader of this group?” it asked. “Yes, but only if there's no-one else around, like now.” “You said you got into a fight just before arriving?” “Yes.” said 238, pushing arms across the cabinet top and pulling them back again. “We had a fight with a group of my clones. I'm one of them, but I'm the good guy. The others... I don't know. I killed a couple of them but... they got up and left.” “Clones? Just like you, huh.” “Yep. Just like me. It sounds crazy, but I think that's the ultimate test... when you fight yourself... and win.” His face came forward and he continued to push both arms all around the table, feeling its slick, cold surface for the first time. “This is nice. I mean, it's cold, but it's also... just nice.” “What was your profession before coming here?” “I am... was a trained killer. I work for Master Gen... I think...” In another room down the hall, Sot wore all white, strapped to the wall same as the others. Large, metal clamps adorned his hands and feet - long claws sticking from the ends of those. “So, you said you were a General on your home-world?” A floating computer screen shown Sot draped in red and yellow. At the bottom was a red number and a green number. The green arrow rose to the top, as did the red. “Yes. I am General Sot of the Teulurian Army, High Command.” The red and green arrow both remained elevated. A third, purple arrow rose from the bottom, elevating above the other two. “So, you were also the Arena Master for the Pravan Empire?” “Yes, that too. I oversaw all of the Arena's monthly fights, security, promotional, executive decision-making. You know. They did speak with me telepathically on occasion, though.” The purple arrow remained elevated near the top. The hidden, alien interrogator's hand tapped the floating screen, then began to beat against it with a fist, cracking the clear screen. The purple line remained elevated, as did the other two. “These genetic modifications? How did they come about?” “Long story.” laughed Sot. “I've been pre-programmed to kill Master Gen... whenever I find the time.” “This 'Master Gen', he sounds like a really, bad person.” “Oh, yes. But, I suppose he's not all bad. But, he has the record for the most kills in the Arena. Fastest kill, fastest to five kills, fastest to ten kills, and so on... Most kills in one minute, most kills underwater, most kills...” “That's good, that's... good. But you said... he's not all bad?” “Oh, no. He and I go way back. We've been friends for almost forty years, but mostly with my alter-ego, Loof. Loof is my... offspring.” “Hmmm. Son or daughter?” “Neither.” “I see. So, where is this Loof?” “Haven't seen Loof in a while. I hope my baby comes soon, to break us out of here. He turns one-day-old in a few hours.” |