Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 51862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
I am thoroughly impressed. Rather than having to defend my human pets, I am able to stand and watch them take the aggressor down with a brutality that even I find slightly difficult to stomach.
It is a different matter when one is doing the killing oneself. The appearance of the thing doesn’t really come to mind. As an observer, however, I am able to see all the little acts of violence unfolding one after the other. I watch with a growing smile as I see these humans acting as they must have done for many thousands of years, hunting as a pack. They forget that about themselves, in my experience. They imagine themselves civilized, but there is nothing truly civilized about them.
The humans we capture now know very little of what they are. They think they are accountants, or babysitters, or sometimes they imagine themselves to be lawyers. They identify with the roles of their modern lives — or what is left of them.
But out here, in the country, watching a group of simple men do what simple men have done for thousands of years, I feel as though I am observing something very rare, precious, and primal.
They kill the Wrathelder soldier not long after the first blade is lodged in his body. They are not terribly efficient. One large, dark-haired man with a particular smile on his face and an empty look in his eyes is the one to land the finishing blow, removing the soldier’s head with a harsh slash of a short blade that looks to have been most recently used to cut grain.
Having killed, they turn as one upon me, looking for another alien to slay. I chuckle because they are so absolutely adorable. Of course, they believe me as easy to kill as the solider. They do not know any better. I may have to teach them all a stern lesson or two in order for them to learn not all aliens are made equal.
Again, Emily tries her best to shield me from the fury of her people.
“Stop! He’s different! He’s nice!”
They turn their eyes to me and I see violence and skepticism written all over their faces.
Of all the things I look to be, nice is not one of them.
One of the humans who had been a brief prisoner of Wrathelder breaks the short, thoughtful silence with a war cry. “Kill all the aliens! There’s no such thing as an alien friend!”
“Shut up, John,” an old man in a checked shirt and overalls who happens to be holding a very sharp pointed fork says. “You never even met an alien until this moment.”
“I met more aliens than you, Deek. I was surrounded by aliens up there on that ship. They were mean. Mean as hell. Treated us like dumb animals. I don’t need to meet every alien to know I want ’em dead. I’ll want every alien I meet dead from now until the end of time.”
“KILL THE ALIEN!”
They are shouting, but they are not moving toward me. They rushed the Wrathelder soldier because he was an active threat, but I am simply standing here. I am giving them no reason to attack, and Emily is still doing her best to defend me, sweet, pretty thing that she is.
“It would be better not to kill me,” I drawl. “I am the only one who can ensure that this ship does not draw a fresh army of aliens who will take revenge for the murder of their companion.”
“We were sucked up into the sky. How are you going to stop us from being sucked up into the sky!?”
That is a good question. The Wrathelder extraction ray is an all-too-brutal technology. We use a transporter beam that is similar, but which leaves the humans unaware of being moved. But that kind of tech costs money, and they don’t want to invest in the mental state of the humans they are capturing.
“He doesn’t have an answer! He doesn’t know anything! He’s just another lying alien!”
I am not sure that any aliens have lied to these people, but humans do love to project their insecurities. I make a note of the ones who think I am a liar and ensure that I will never take them at their word.
“He got us back once,” Emily says. “And he’ll get us back again. He’s our guardian. He’s our protector. And we have to look after him if we want him to look after us.”
“Agreed,” Deek says, leaning on his pitchfork. “I reckon we’d better hide that spaceship of his. The authorities will come looking for it. They’ve got their sky eyes. They’ll know what happened here. If we’re real unfortunate, there might already be a small army on the way.”
“Hide the ship,” I agree. If it stops other humans from being drawn into the extraction zone, that can only be a good thing. Plus, hiding the ship will give them something to work on as a group in service of me, their new master. The very act of serving me will begin to form bonds between them and me. Habit is a powerful thing, and their new habits begin now.