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)
The hearty voice of a strong woman rings out in domestic command.
“That rump’ll make a good roast cut. Let’s marinade these tougher bits. Chickens and pigs’ll have the eyes and innards.”
I wonder what beast they have butchered. I know that it is traditional in many human communities to welcome a newcomer by killing a prize beast and serving it. I may be about to crash my own welcome party.
The thought makes me hesitate a moment, but only a moment. Life cannot be lived if one is constantly afraid of crashing welcome parties. I need to know what these humans are doing. I need to assert my dominance and control. There will be consequences for them having raided the ship even as they covered it.
I stride into the kitchen. At first, nobody notices me. They are too busy with their respective tasks.
I clear my throat in a low growl.
A few heads turn. Not as many as I expected. I thought I might cause them to jump in surprise and cower before me, but these village women are not made that way.
“It’s him,” one of them says. “The green one.”
“How can we help you, Mr Alien?” A thick and busty older woman with gray hair turns her attention to me, with no fear and little in the way of respect.
“What happened to the bodies?”
“… nothing?”
The lie is as obvious as can be, shifty gaze revealing guilt.
“Show me what you have done with the bodies.”
“Well,” she says. “Some of them are here. Other parts are with the tanners. They’re through that way. But if you’ve got a sensitive stomach you might want to hold off on looking.”
She gestures toward a door to the side. I open it, because not to open it would be cowardly, and because I have to know what is happening in addition to the horror of our kind being used as meal prep ingredients.
The door leads to an area that is half outdoors, half under cover. It is far from the first time it has been used for activities associated with breaking down a carcass, that much is certain. There are tables with large knives and sharp small blades and other racks with… it takes me a moment to understand what I am seeing, and to accept it.
Every part of the Wrathelder soldier has been used. Every. Single. Part. The skins have been removed and are being tanned on racks probably initially intended for dealing with animal hides. I can see diagrams of what look to me to be patterns for armor. They are planning on wearing their enemies.
Tusks and fangs have been removed and washed and are drying in a row. One has already been made into a necklace. I do not know what they intend to do with the others.
Fat is rendering in one large pot bubbling over an open fire. Cuts of meat have been broken down and laid out, some wrapped and ready to be aged.
They are planning on eating their enemies.
I am impressed in a horrified sort of way. Their savagery is only matched by their practicality. I am certain that Wrathelder, having embarked on their expedition to claim as many able-bodied humans as they could for breeding and warfare, never once considered they themselves could end up on the menu.
When I look back over my shoulder at the women in the kitchen, I see that the ladies have a slightly guilty expression someone running an old-fashioned BBQ might have if a bull was to come strolling along. One of them pulls some lettuce leaves over some of the meat, but there is just so very much meat here, a dozen massive Wrathelder soldiers broken down into their composite parts. There is no way to hide what is happening here. They are clearly preparing for a large village meal, a feast in other words.
“Carry on,” I say, waving my hand dismissively. This is a right and fitting end to my enemies. That my pets might consume them all is a proper fate. I only wish the clan leaders were here to see it. Phenix Wrathelder would foam at the mouth if he knew the fate of his men. Cousins, second cousins, perhaps even sons of their filthy family have been sacrificed to the humans.
I approve.
4
Emily
Strong arms are wrapped around me as I open my eyes to meet a new day in the arms of my alien lover. Sun is shining through my bedroom window, falling on his gray green scales and making them gleam at the edges. Was he this shiny yesterday?
Held tight against the unscaled part of his chest and torso I feel a sense of protection and comfort, not to mention possession. He holds me like he owns me.
“Morning, pet.”
I feel him clasp my ass with his free hand even as he snugs me tighter with the arm I woke up inspecting in the morning light.