***
“Bob's been eliminated.”
“Dammit.”
Two curved chairs sat in front of a large display screen. They were small, covered in a plush, white fabric, and sat low to the ground. In them sat two creatures. Their short, chubby legs rested on the ends of their seats, their feet dangling above the floor. On the screen an image of Bob could be seen, what was left of him still pinned beneath the cement lawn ornament. One of the aliens punched something into a console on his right. He turned and looked at his companion.
“Has a clean-up crew been sent?”
“Sarah and Beth are on their way.”
“Good. You know that yard is going to be crawling with humans as soon as the woman calls for help.”
“Her neighbor has already called for an ambulance.”
“Well then, clean-up better work fast.”
“They will.”
The alien working on the console pushed it away. Small, infant-like hands rubbed at his large eyes.
“This is the fifth time this week that our mind control has failed.” His words were muffled by his hands.
“I'm aware of that.”
“At this rate, we aren't going to have enough blood to feed the colony.”
“We'll manage.”
“Maybe this week, but what about next? Bob was one of our best collectors, and that human smashed him.” The alien sighed. “I should have had him come back after his last session. He was nearly full, but he thought he could hold just a little more. He said there wasn't any point in coming home early if he wasn't completely full. Now he's dead, and all the blood he collected has been spilled.”
“Sarah and Beth may be able to save some of it.”
The other alien looked disgusted at the thought.
“Yum. I want to eat blood that has run all over the ground.” His voice was bitter in its sarcasm.
“It would be better than going hungry.” The alien's voice was tight and high-pitched. “Look, it isn't as if this is truly a surprise. The rate of mind control failing has steadily increased since the eighties. Human females aren't as in tune to their maternal instincts as they were in earlier times, especially in the developed nations of Earth. You know, Jack, for our illusion to work the subject has to want to believe it. We can't force the image upon a woman who has no motherly feelings.”
Jack shook his head before answering, cringing slightly at the sound of the human name he was forced to use.
“It used to be so much easier. Thousands of years ago, when we first realized how perfect human blood was for our needs, the species was just starting out. They had to adapt fast to be able to live in the harsh environment of their planet. The species' survival depended on them reproducing and nurturing their young. Now, the population is quickly outgrowing the resources of the planet. They need to stop reproducing so Earth will still be able to support them. Women don't dream of being good mothers, they dream of being doctors, or living in Hollywood. How are we supposed to compete with that?”
“Lucky for us, I've been thinking about this for a while.”
Jack looked up at his companion, his large eyes opening wide. “What does that mean?”
“If you remember, back in the early nineties, I went to the council and suggested human females were evolving away from the motherly figure and moving towards more powerful roles. You all were convinced I was wrong and the trend would swing back towards natural instincts in time. I wasn't as convinced, but I couldn't change your minds. So I've been doing a little work on the side. Tinkering with things, you might say.” The alien slid from his chair and headed towards the back of the room. He pressed his hand against the wall, and a doorway opened. “Come on, I'll show you.”
Jack followed, shocked that his colleague—a being he considered his friend—had been keeping something from him for so long. He followed Todd into the room, flabbergasted by what he saw.
“What is all this?”
The room was long and narrow. Down each wall were tanks filled with a bright, pink liquid. Forms could be seen within them, but Jack was unsure what he was seeing. At the back of the room were five clear cubes. Each one held a bed with a human strapped to it. In one of them, an alien could be seen.
“This is my solution to our problem.”
Jack looked at Todd and waited for him to explain.
“Once I was convinced it wasn't guaranteed humans would go back to depending on reproduction, I began thinking of what instincts would always be a part of their society.”
“Todd, there are no guarantees. It depends on what is needed at that moment in time. That's why we chose to build our mind control around reproduction. A species must reproduce to continue. It seemed like a safe bet and look where it's led us.” Jack peered into one of the tanks, squinting to try and make out what was within.
“True,” Todd answered, “but there is a natural urge that isn't necessarily centered on the need to survive.”
Jack looked unconvinced.
“And what would that be?” He could see the form in the tank was much larger than any of the members of the colony. It looked very much like the humans of Earth, but better. Legs and arms were long, lean, and well-muscled. The chest and back were broad. The face chiseled.
“Sex. Every human fantasizes, whether they'll admit it or not.”
Jack could feel a smile spreading across his face. Yes, why hadn't he thought of it before? He turned towards Todd, his face full of expectation and disbelief.
“You're saying that you've found a way to feed off humans using fantasies to subdue them? How? It took us decades to contort ourselves to our current form. How have you done all of this without the rest of us knowing?”
Todd smiled.
“Plenty knew. I needed volunteers to undergo the drastic changes. I just kept it quiet from the council until I thought you'd understand the need.” He paused. “Unfortunately, it isn't perfect yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“I've perfected the form, created the ideal human, both male and female, so we can stop concentrating solely on the women of Earth. But the mind control is still weak.” Todd looked aggravated having to admit that his new plan wasn't perfect yet. “Watch, you'll see what I mean.”
Jack turned to peer into the clear cubicle at the end of the room holding two forms. Inside, a female Earthling lay strapped to a padded table. She seemed to be in a deep sleep, her eyes moving rapidly beneath her eyelids. An alien paced the small space, staring at her. His form was majestic, tall and muscular. Jack looked at him with envy, feeling inadequate in the infant body his people had spent years trying to achieve. He knew the alien was attempting to conjure a dream within the woman from the look of deep concentration on his face.
For hundreds of years, the aliens had brought on dreams of nursing to relax human women so they could feed from them. They’d found the image engaged natural instincts that, until recently, made the feeding process much easier. Now things had changed, and Jack wondered if Todd was on to something with this new form.
The woman on the table moaned softly in her sleep. Her hands began moving, caressing her breasts and sliding down her stomach. The muscular alien smiled, looking pleased with himself. He walked to the table and bent over the woman, kissing her lightly in some places and then more passionately in others. He returned the woman's moan, and his penis grew hard.
Jack shifted uncomfortably, looking at Todd. He raised his eyebrows in question.
“It's just to heighten the illusion. It helps keep her in the fantasy.”
Jack didn't say anything, but thought it looked as if the alien was fantasizing a bit himself. Finally, he climbed onto the table, still stroking and kissing the woman. He stopped for a moment and looked at Todd, who nodded. Opening his mouth wide, the alien bit into the woman's shoulder and began feeding. Bright, red blood seeped between his lips and her skin, pooling above her clavicle. For a moment she continued to moan and then her brow knitted in pain. Her eyes flew
open and she began screaming. Her body bucked. Her hands struck her attacker, slapping at his back.
“Shit,” Todd said. He turned away from the scene. “Every time. Every single time, we can't hold the illusion long enough to finish the feeding process.” The alien held the woman down, not seeming to be fazed by her panic.
“Go ahead and finish her off, Jeff. We'll drop her body in the woods of southern West Virginia. No one will find her for years.” Jack saw Jeff give the slightest of nods while he continued to drain blood from the woman.
“You're just going to kill her?”
“What? You want to release her back into the population and have her telling everyone she was abducted by aliens? Or better yet, she was attacked by a vampire?” Todd snorted. “It's best if we just do away with her.”
Jack wanted to ask how many humans had already been done away with, but knew he wouldn't like the answer. This is exactly why Todd hadn't come to the council with his experiments. They would've never continued the work if it meant a large loss of life, but now times were getting desperate.
“Okay. You're onto something, Todd. You really are.” Jack looked Todd in the face, making sure the other alien was listening to him. “But keep the fatalities to a minimum. The mind control has to be strengthened, or we will never use this new adaptation full scale.”
“I have no doubt I’ll have it figured out by the end of the year.”
“Good. Until then, I want us to concentrate our feedings among religious groups. The more zealous, the better. A lot of them believe children are a gift from God, so maybe their maternal instincts are still strong enough. They might have enough nurturing left in them to make our dreams better received.”
The screams of the woman followed Jack across the room, only to be cut off by the closing of the door. Looking back up at the image of Bob magnified on the viewing screen, he shook his head. He couldn't help but wonder what his people had become, and whether or not they would be able to survive.
Finally Alone
by David Bernstein
Marla Kelper lounged on her back porch, feet up and smiling. The night had been pleasant, warm, with no humidity and a gentle breeze. She’d received word her sister’s surgery had gone well. Grabbing some gourmet cheese cubes, whole grain crackers, and a bottle of Zinfandel, she poured herself a glass of wine and toasted her sister in silent prayer. Listening to the crickets chirp, Marla remembered it was Tuesday night, garbage night. She raced to the garage, grabbed the two cans and hauled them to the curb. Upon returning to the house she was grabbed from behind.
The arms enveloping her were like steel. She tried screaming, but a large gloved hand covered her soft delicate mouth. Kicking, punching, biting, Marla did everything a person in her situation was suppose to do. She might’ve had a chance, the slightest of possibilities to get away, but once the needle entered her neck, the fight was over.
Marla awoke in a confined space, the temperature sweltering. Darkness, like a black abyss, consumed the air around her. Walls made of wood stood inches from all sides. Where was she? She kicked and hollered before calming herself. Whoever her abductor was most likely didn’t leave her in an area where she’d be heard. She needed to stay relaxed and clear-headed. Save her energy.
The silence was as consuming as the darkness. She’d hoped her eyes adjusting to the dark would help, but it didn’t. Wherever she was it was completely sealed off.
She felt around. Her abductor had dressed her in what felt like a pair of cottony shorts and a t-shirt. At least she wasn’t naked.
It seemed like hours passed, the heat intolerable as her skin was moist with sweat. The air grew thinner and she began to hyperventilate. Panic was building, her body trembling. Was she in a box? A coffin, maybe?
Marla began kicking and screaming, her anxiety besting her. She pounded the sides with her feet and fists until the lid of the box opened and a blinding light seared her eyes.
A man wearing a black ski mask stood over her. He dropped a bottle of water onto her stomach. Marla went to sit up, but the man immediately shoved her back down. His strength seemed inhuman.
“Drink,” the man said.
Fearing the water might be drugged, Marla drank anyway, her mouth parched. She finished the water quickly, too quickly, as a cramp struck her stomach. Looking down at the container she was in, she saw that it was coffin shaped, painted black, and made of plywood. Past the man, she saw concrete cement walls, a wood planked ceiling, and steel support bracers. Yellow construction stands held bright, halogen lights, all directed at her.
The hulking man reached down, grabbed a brown paper shopping bag and dropped it at Marla’s side. He took the empty bottle from her as she held it tight to her chest. “Poison,” the man said before shutting the lid.
Marla heard the word echo through her mind, the hair on her forearms standing. What did that mean, poison? Was the water poisoned? She heard a crinkling noise from the bag. Something was moving inside it. She tried grabbing the bag, but it was just out of her reach. Using her feet, she nudged the bag closer. She reached again, touching the frayed edges. A sharp pain, like a needle poke, stung her hand. “Ouch,” she yelled, surprised, and brought her hand to her mouth. What the hell was that?
Her hand began to burn as if she had touched a hot burner on a stove. The heat started encompassing her hand before spreading up her forearm. That’s what the bastard had meant. The thing in the bag was poisonous. Marla’s heart began hammering, thudding loudly. She felt something brush her thigh, and she flinched. Another needle-like sting punctured her leg.
Again a fiery pain erupted under her skin. She began to cry, her mind producing images of spiders, snakes, and insects. She had to know what was in the coffin with her.
She lay still as a tickling sensation crept across her leg. It felt weighted; its little hairs making her skin itch where it didn’t burn. It took every ounce of her will to stop from swatting the thing and freaking out.
The pain hadn’t subsided as time wore on. As before, she had no idea how much time had passed since seeing the man. The creature kept crawling over and around her, even nestling in her hair.
Finally, the lid opened, the light piercing again, making her wince. The man reached in wearing black gloves and picked up a large hairy brown spider. “Brown Recluse,” he said, massaging the creature’s back. “Very poisonous. Deadly.” He put the spider down, and tossed another bottle of water to Marla. “Drink.”
Marla went to sit up, saw the man lean toward her and lowered herself back down. She finished the water and went to hand it back to the man. He grunted angrily, swatting the bottle away. Marla’s hand took the brunt of the blow. Along with her other pains, her hand felt as if it were broken.
The man picked up two more bags, dropping them in. “No, no, no,” Marla yelled. “What do you want?” The man slammed the lid closed.
Darkness came, silence rushing in, both like an unseen phantom trying to choke Marla to death until she heard the crinkle of the bags. She lay completely still, fighting nerves and trying not to move.
She felt something bump her leg, then her elbow. An icy rope slithered between her bicep and ribcage. Marla flinched, knowing it was a snake. It didn’t matter which kind, she loathed the scaly reptiles. A sharp pain bit her bicep. She reached over in a panic and received another painful bite on her uninjured hand. She cried out, quickly remembering to calm herself. Further movement would only agitate the creature.
Marla lay still, a small shiver here and there. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and down into her hair. The snake continued its slither throughout the coffin as if on some unknown mission. It glided over her, under her, and in her hair.
The spider was back, its hairy texture familiar, and had worked its way onto her shin. A quick shiver had brought a stinging pain. Afterward, the insect simply rested on her, its presence like a poisonous death weight. But why, with all the bites, was Marla still alive? She felt a little nauseous and was sweating, but o
ther than that she was fine. It had to be the water. The sick bastard had laced it with the antidotes she would need. Why was this guy subjecting her to deadly creatures only to keep her alive? Too scare her? Marla, finally accepting her plight, had calmed, but a new need had begun paining her. A need to pee.
Marla ground her teeth, her jaw muscles bulging as she fought against the pressure in her bladder.
What seemed like the worst hours of Marla’s life had finally passed as the lid was opened. The bright light, again, making her want to shield her eyes, but she dared not.
The huge man stood over her. He reached down, picking up the snake. The reptile struck repeatedly at the man’s gloved hands as he laughed. He looked upon the beast with gentle eyes before placing it below the coffin and out of Marla’s site. Next he picked up the spider that was still resting, balled up, on Marla’s shin.
She was finally able to glance at her hand. It was swollen to the size of a small cantaloupe. She felt a knob against the inside of her bicep as well. She was sweaty, the cool air of wherever she was, rejuvenating.
“I need to pee,” she said. The man was petting the spider, ignoring her. “I need to pee,” she repeated.
The man reached down and picked up another bottle of water, tossing it to Marla. “Drink,” he said.
“No,” Marla said, sternly.
The man glared at her, eyes fierce. “Drink,” he said.
“My bladder’s full. No more room. I have to pee,” she pleaded.
“Drink or die,” the man said, putting the spider down and picking up a white wooden box about the size of a shoebox. He held his index finger up to his lips, “Shush,” he whispered.
Marla didn’t like the creepy vibe she was getting from the box or the man’s actions. An icy fear filled her chest and she began to drink, wanting to make certain the antidote for whatever deadly creature lay in wait was in her body. The man smiled, his teeth sparkling white.
Ruthless: An Extreme Shock Horror Collection Page 10
