[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/DxUIER1.png[/img][/center] [color=SkyBlue]TARGET PLANET: M-CLASS, SPACE SECTOR 2814 GRAVITY: 0.62 TAMARANIAN STANDARD ATMOSPHERE: 78% NITROGEN, 21% OXYGEN, REMAINING 1% ARGON, CARBON-DIOXIDE, AND TRACE ELEMENTS DOMINANT SPECIES: BIPEDAL, OPPOSABLE THUMBS, ESTIMATED SIXTH-LEVEL INTELLECT ON AVERAGE TECHNOLOGICAL LEVEL: 1. INTERPLANETARY CONTACT: MINIMAL TO NONE. PROGNOSIS: MOSTLY HARMLESS TARGET LANDING ZONE ACQUIRED. DECELERATING TO DESCENT SPEED. WILL BREACH ATMOSPHERE IN 30 MILLICYCLES. ENGAGING STEALTH FIELD. DEPLOYING ELECTROMAGNETIC PULSE TO DISABLE DETECTION IN 3....2....1...[/color] [hr] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vQOmUnK.png[/img][/center] The lasers, strobes, and unbearable music suddenly cut off, and the park is plunged into darkness. There's a collective "AWWWWW" from the crowd, and people begin booing, as if the blackout was part of the show. [color=MediumPurple]"Ohhhhh darn,"[/color] I say amidst the din, [color=MediumPurple]"I guess I'll have to go home now without seeing the rest of the show. What a shame."[/color] The cops and those burly HIVE security guards begin funneling people out of the park, some of the more colorfully-decorated kids in the crowd navigating with the glow-sticks they had been twirling with the music. I notice one person leading a group out with what looks like a plastic sword lined with LED lights-- that Alex kid from earlier. I should probably apologize for snapping at him, but now's not exactly the time for it. Besides, I heard what he said under his breath, so I'm hardly brimming with sympathy. [color=LightSalmon]"Don't forget to keep your wrist-bands!"[/color] a pimply-faced member of the event staff shouts, his voice cracking several octaves in both directions. [color=LightSalmon]"So we can let you back in when we start again!"[/color] [color=MediumPurple]"Don't worry about it,"[/color] I tell him as I peel the wristband off and drop it into the trash can beside him. [hr] [color=SkyBlue]TARGET LANDING AREA IS CLEAR. BEGINNING FINAL APPROACH.[/color] [hr] The walk home is only a few blocks, but with all of the lights out and the crowd seeming to disperse down every street but mine, it feels like miles. What a complete waste of an evening. I could have spent that time reading, or going through some old notes, or.....hell, counting the cash register again just for the fun of it. Anything would have been a better time than-- [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/3LIpWSH.png[/img][/center] I feel it. A powerful wave of feeling, surging as it gets closer. A hunger. Not hunger like you feel in the late afternoon well after lunch but before dinner. And not hunger like someone who's lost everything and doesn't know when or where their next meal will be. Hunger like a wolf that's closing in on a deer. An excited, [i]predatory[/i] sort of hunger. [color=Aquamarine]"Excuse me, Miss?"[/color] An SUV slows down to roll alongside me, without its running lights on, engine barely making a sound. Leaning his head out of the driver's side window is an older man wearing shades, a black "tacti-cool" top, and a ball cap with the word HIVE embroidered on the front. [color=Aquamarine]"We'd like to have a word with you, can you stop for a moment?"[/color] Why would some rent-a-cops want 'a word' with me? I didn't do anything illegal-- last I checked, there weren't any laws about hearing voices in your head. Or hating crappy music. Whatever they want, it's not good. Keep walking, Rachel. [color=Aquamarine]"Miss, we just want to--"[/color] [color=MediumPurple]"Last I checked, the park was [i]that[/i] way,"[/color] I point behind me, [color=MediumPurple]"And that's where your jurisdiction ends. If I did something I wasn't supposed to, take it up with the [i]actual[/i] cops."[/color] Shades frowns. [color=Aquamarine]"We saw your 'episode' at the concert, Miss,"[/color] he says, more authority in his voice. [color=Aquamarine]"The readings you were giving off were off the charts. We have some questions--"[/color] [color=MediumPurple]"And I have an answer,"[/color] I cut him off, not even looking as I raise my middle finger. 'Readings?' What kind of 'readings' are event security-- [b][i]SKRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEECH!!![/i][/b] The SUV heaves forward, then swerves to cut me off. Shades steps out of the driver's side, and three more big guys in tactical gear step out. Two of them have tasers, the other two have guns. I start to take a few steps back. [color=MediumPurple]"B--....back off,"[/color] I say, trying to keep a brave face. [color=MediumPurple]"You....you don't kn-know what y-you're dealing with."[/color] The four of them start to laugh, but I'm telling the truth. They have no idea what I'm capable of. And neither do I. A month ago, Sebastian Blood tried to kill me. He and a few dozen followers had chained me to an altar in the bowels of his Hollywood mansion, and proceeded to do all sorts of obscene things to each other in the name of some entity they called "The Great Trigon." Sebastian said I was the "gateway to the infernal realm," and that sacrificing me to his great big evil master would get him honors and glory in the world to come. From what I gathered, the saying "there's a special place in Hell for you" wasn't a threat to him, but a promise. Just as the dagger was coming down, all my fear, all my anger, all my confusion, just....[i]erupted[/i]. I heard the cry of a bird, and then a shadow poured out of me, washing over the room like a geyser of ink. It tossed Sebastian aside like a ragdoll, broke my chains like strands of tissue paper, smashed tables, pounded holes in the walls, and left his band of cultists in heaps of broken limbs and spinal trauma. I don't [i]think[/i] I killed any of them, but I won't shed too many tears if I did. All well and good, but I don't know how the hell I did it. I was scared and confused then. But I'm scared and confused [i]now[/i], and I don't seem to be throwing these jerks into the river yet. [color=Aquamarine]"Now I'm going to ask you to be a little more polite, young lady,"[/color] says Shades with an eager sneer as he clicks the safety off of his pistol. [color=Aquamarine]"You've got until the count of three to apologize for being rude, and come with us, or else we'll have to show you some manners. One.......two........"[/color] [i]NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN[/i][i]NNNNNYYYYYYYYYY[b]YEEEEEEEEEEEEEE[/b][/i][h3][i]EEEEEOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW---[/i][/h3] [h1][b][i]BOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!![/i][/b][/h1] [hr] .......my senses reel. The world begins to spin as I stumble forward. ...the world?.....[i]a[/i] world, perhaps. Not my world. Strewn about me are bodies, knocked unconscious by the force of the landing. One of them, on the ground before me, begins to stir, and scrambles to its feet. My head swims, as the creature speaks. [img]https://i.imgur.com/lCzbaH5.png[/img] I do not know its language. It does sound like any variation of Interlac I have ever heard. [color=Orange]"Where am I?"[/color] I ask. [color=Orange]"What is this place?"[/color] The creature-- a female, by appearance, though I may be mistaken-- babbles an answer. [img]https://i.imgur.com/xiBZ01J.png[/img] For a moment, I think of attempting to communicate with hand gestures, find something with which to scribe, starting with the universal language of mathematics. Then I see the others begin to stir, and reach for what appear to be weapons. [color=Orange]"I apologize, but we have little time,"[/color] I say, and approach to initiate a psychic meld through the most direct means I can manage. [img]https://i.imgur.com/wv0dZve.png[/img] [hr] My head hurts. My back hurts. My bones hurt. Everything hurts. So on the bright side, that means I'm not dead. I open my eyes, and as I stagger to my feet, I see....[i]something[/i] has crashed down on top of the HIVE goons' SUV. It's like a big, silver egg, encrusted with gems and lined with gold lace. It looks like something out of either a fairy tale, or a bad SyFy movie, I'm not sure which. Stepping out of the egg-thing is a girl. Slender, with long flowing red hair, tanned skin, and bright green eyes-- bright as in literally, glowing green. She stumbles and staggers, and by instinct, I call out to her. [color=MediumPurple]"Hey, are you.....okay? What.....what is that thing?"[/color] I know what that thing [i]looks[/i] like. It looks like a crashed UFO. But it isn't. It can't be. Because that would be stupid. The girl turns her eyes to me, and speaks. [img]https://i.imgur.com/GxuMq5U.png[/img] It's pure gibberish, not even remotely sounding like any language I've ever heard. [color=MediumPurple]"I'm sorry, I....don't know what you're saying."[/color] There's a pained groan, and I see Shades and his friends are regaining consciousness....and going for their guns. The girl from the sp---the whatever-that-thing-is, [i]not[/i] an alien spaceship, that would be stupid-- sees it too, and walks toward me. [img]https://i.imgur.com/iQvJ2Mt.png[/img] She cups a hand to my cheek.... [color=MediumPurple]"Hey, wait, what are you--?!"[/color] Her lips press against mine, and my mind explodes. Images of a lush tropical world, three vibrant colored moons hanging in the sky like ripe fruit. Muscular men and statuesque women, all with bright red hair and luminescent green eyes, living lives of wonder and adventure. A happy childhood. A loving mother and father. A sister who never opens up and says what's bothering her. A betrayal. A war. A desperate escape. Words, feelings, memories, slam into me with the force of a hurricane. Then she pulls away, breaking the kiss, and I'm back in what passes for the real world. Taking a few steps and a deep breath, I manage a [color=MediumPurple].......what?!"[/color] [color=Orange]"I apologize for the sudden intrusion into personal space,"[/color] she says, suddenly speaking fluent English, [color=Orange]"But direct contact between high concentrations of nerve endings is the best way to achieve a psychic meld. And this was the best way I could make learning of the language occur with the most of fast."[/color] .....well, fluent-[i]ish.[/i] [color=MediumPurple]".......[i]WHAT?![/i]"[/color] [color=Aquamarine]"Nnnnngh,"[/color] Shades pulls himself up, and puts a hand to his ear as he calls for backup. [color=Aquamarine]"Attention, attention, a second target has appeared. Inform Doctor Johnson. Requesting Class-3 backup."[/color] [color=Orange]"Come,"[/color] the orange-haired girl says as she takes me by the wrist, [color=Orange]"we must find a more defensible location if we are to be the victors in the combat!"[/color] She snaps her fingers, and the giant silver egg sitting on the ruins of the SUV shrinks down into the size of an actual egg, then gently floats into the palm of her free hand. Then she begins to.....drift upwards, floating into the air.....taking me with her. [color=MediumPurple]".........[b][i]WHAT?!?!?![/i][/b]"[/color]