Elena Gonzalez, dressed in her usual dark workout gear, pounded the pavement, her breath visible in the cool night air. The streetlights flickered behind her as she pushed herself to run faster, her mind clearing with each stride. That was until something caught her eye—a streak of bright light, moving with unnatural speed across the sky.
Her breath caught in her throat. The light blinked out of existence just beyond the tree line, where the forest began. She hesitated for a moment but, driven by curiosity, took a sharp turn off the path and into the woods.
The underbrush was thick, and the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot filled the air as Elena ventured deeper, the only sounds now the rustling of the wind and the occasional distant snap of twigs. The trees towered around her, their shadows stretching long under the silver glow of the moon.
Then, she saw it.
Through a gap in the trees, Elena’s eyes widened. A metallic shape—sleek, smooth, and gleaming under the moonlight—lay crumpled on the ground. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, no earthly technology she could recognize. The craft was compact, almost organic in its design, the surface shimmering with an iridescent sheen, shifting colors like oil on water. Panels along its side pulsed faintly, as though the ship itself was alive, breathing.
She stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest.
A sudden, soft hiss filled the air. A dark, angular figure appeared from behind the wreckage. It was tall—easily over seven feet—its body long and lean, with skin that seemed to shift in hue from deep gray to silver, depending on the angle of the light. Its face was smooth, almost featureless, with large, dark eyes that reflected the stars above. Its limbs were spindly, each finger ending in sharp, delicate points, and it moved with an eerie fluidity, almost floating just above the ground.
The alien’s eyes locked onto Elena’s, unblinking, and for a moment, neither moved. Elena felt a strange sense of calm wash over her, but also a deep, inexplicable fear. The creature’s face showed no emotion—its expression was neutral, unreadable.
She took a careful step forward, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Are you… okay? Can you understand me?”
The alien’s head tilted to the side, its eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to process the sound of her voice. It made a soft clicking noise, like a tongue against the roof of its mouth, but it was not a word she could understand.
“Elena Gonzalez… I mean you no harm,” she continued, her voice a bit steadier this time, despite the chill crawling up her spine. “I’m just… curious. Where are you from?”
The alien’s gaze shifted to the wrecked ship behind it, and then back to her, as though it recognized the question but did not comprehend the meaning of her words. It made another clicking sound, one that felt almost like a sigh. Its shoulders slumped slightly, and it bent down, its fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the craft as if seeking answers there.
Elena’s breath hitched. "Are you lost?"
The creature made a sound, almost like a soft hum, before it looked at her again. The confusion was clear in its eyes. There was no way for her to know what it meant—no language, no understanding of how to communicate with this being.
It stepped closer, slow and deliberate, and for a split second, Elena wondered if it might reach out. But the alien stopped, its elongated fingers hovering just inches from her skin. It was as though it were testing the air, analyzing her. There was a deep, instinctual unease that settled in her chest.
“It's okay,” she whispered, taking a hesitant step backward. "I won’t hurt you.”
The alien’s gaze softened, and for a brief moment, she thought it might try to communicate again. But instead, it turned its head, glancing back at the wreckage of its ship with a quiet hum.
Elena stood there, rooted to the spot. She had no idea what to do next. The alien had understood something, she was sure of it. But whatever connection there was between them—whatever bridge existed between their worlds—remained out of reach.
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