Aliens and Angst (I’m not okay)
He wasn’t scared.
They couldn’t care less either way, but he refused to allow himself to drown in the fear that was threatening to overwhelm him.
It had just been a normal night. He was walking back to the dorms with his friends after a movie, everyone laughing and having a good time. He walked away, only for a few minutes to use the restroom, when his entire world went dark.
The next thing he knew he was strapped to a table made out of some weirdly maleable metal, surrounded by what could only be aliens.
The creatures had a vaguely human shape, with two legs, fingers, and a head, but that was where the similarities ended. They were tall, the smallest he’d seen at least seven or eight feet, though it was hard to tell while horizontal. Their skin, if it could be called that, was darkly colored and seemed to shift and change under his gaze, making him want to either look away or be sick.
Their arms were quite muscular, but they could split in half, like that one robot Jedi guy in the Star Wars prequel movies. They also had way too many fingers, all thin and delicate and searching, probing.
Possibly the most disturbing, however, was their lack of a face, only dark flesh surrounding a singular hole that seemed deeper than the abyss.
He screamed himself hoarse trying to get them to release him, wearing himself out by struggling helplessly against his restraints.
They spoke to each other in a weird language that sounded like a mix of different clicks and warbling bass tones. As they got closer, he noticed that their moving skin actually had many detailed designs etched into them, and their color was a smooth combination of grays and blacks.
He didn’t care much for their appearance, however, as they focused on him with a discomforting intensity that made him squirm with the little strength he had left. They didn’t appear to have any eyes, but he could feel them looking at him none the less.
One of them reached a spindly finger out towards him and he shrank back, breathing speeding up as he wished he was anywhere else, shuddering when he felt its pressure in his side. He turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening.
The creatures wouldn’t let him though, the pressure in his side increasing until he let out a whimper of pain. The finger was removed and he sighed shakily, knowing the relief was only temporary. The creature spoke to each other again and he heard them shifting, and then another finger pressed into his other side until he whined.
He felt pathetic, useless, like a toy in the hands of a curious child. The fingers returned again, this time squeezing his thigh, then examining his ankle, before spreading his own fingers apart and testing their limits.
He suddenly felt his left pinky being bent too far upward and started to speak, panic coloring his voice. “Wait, don’t-!” But they didn’t care and he cut himself off with a scream as the fragile bone snapped under the aliens careful ministrations.
He sobbed, the pain throbbing throughout his hand and up his arm, distracting him from the fast clicks and the exit of the one who had hurt him.
He saw one of the others approaching with a strange-looking instrument and panicked, his breath coming short and erratic and he frantically resumed his earlier efforts to escape the immovable restraints.
“P-please, don’t, I-I can’t d-do this, s-stop it, go away, g-get b-back!” His pleading fell on nothing, as he didn’t even know if these aliens had ears with which to ignore his suffering.
He screamed again when they touched his broken finger with their own steady, precise, cold ones. The pain then disappeared, and he looked down, surprised, seeing the appendage completely healed. But then they all came back, surrounding him, and his crying continued, though slightly subdued, as they continued studying him like he was nothing more than an interesting test subject, ignoring his soft whimpers and the table getting wet with his tears.
He felt so lost and alone, and yeah, he was fucking scared. He’d never felt anything like the creeping terror that now enveloped him. Being this exposed, and vulnerable to these beings made him feel worse than uncomfortable.
He wasn’t sure if ‘violated’ was completely right either, but it was the closest word he had to the total disregard and destruction of all his privacy and personal space. There wasn’t a single inch of his skin that they left untouched, and he wasn’t sure how many scalding showers it would take to free him of this suffocating feeling.
He didn’t even know when they’d ever stop. All his tears were gone, and he was too weak and tired to protest any of the examinations anymore.
He reluctantly felt himself drifting off to sleep, and though he tried his hardest to stay awake, he eventually slipped under, not knowing when, where, or even if he’d ever wake again.