Alien Beast: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance

by Penelope Woods

  I give them what they want, and I wait. For her. The woman I’ve yet to find here.

  I keep searching for her, knowing that when I find her, I’ll have my way out.

  I’m taken prisoner, dragged inside that wood cabin until they feel real nice, safe enough to beat an alien twice their size. I accept their pain, rolling my eyes open after each blow dealt, barely able to focus on the questions they spit into my ears.

  In the room’s corner, a few candles glow and melt onto a wood table. It’s just enough warmth to tantalize me. I focus on those flames, and the pain suddenly subsides.

  Yes, I’ve been here before. In a dream. I’ve seen all of this, but there are slight irregularities with how this is playing out.

  Another punch to my skull. Yep, I remember that too.

  “Where is she?” the man growls.

  I try to remember her face, but my mind is blank. Maybe I’m going through some form of amnesia. Maybe I hit my head during that landing.

  I was made for a mate. She’s out there somewhere.

  We were born for each other.

  I spit blood and watch as their rugged leader grows desperate for a response. He takes a candle in hand and holds it delicately over my body. “I asked you a question, boy,” he says.

  “And I’m under no obligation to answer,” I growl.

  Although his mouth is closed, I see his thick cheek muscles flex as his teeth slip together.

  “I gave you a choice,” he says.

  That’s right. He did. But just because a man is asking questions, doesn’t mean he’s got the right of a judge. He doesn’t get to decide my fate.

  I do.

  The men part ways around their leader, nervously eyeing one another like a pack of wild animals. The hunter’s heavy boots echo on the decayed wood panels, adding to the almost ominous noises the forest critters make alongside the strong, howling wind.

  Safety doesn’t exist in a place like this. But they sure believe it does.

  The hard-boiled lawman shouts a few words in praise of his good luck, then throws the melting candle and rifle down in the same movement. Wax falls onto my skin, searing into my flesh, but I’m focused on one thing.

  “Let’s burn this monster alive,” the hunter bellows, eyes narrow and mad.

  His group agrees with smiles and hee-haw laughter. Meanwhile, the sun has rolled into a blanket of ominous clouds.

  It’s not long before they’re beating me to a pulp. They use their rifles, fists and fingers. One of them glides a knife into the candle fire, heating the edge to cut my chest. Any other day, I might give up. But I’m waiting for someone important, and I don’t have time for this shit.

  One of the deplorable hunters pours a foul smelling tonic onto my body. “Cursed beast,” he grunts.

  My muscles twitch. They have burned me, but they still can’t see the truth. I am the candle’s end. Me. And I won’t stop until they’re charred.

  I can’t take it anymore. Something inside me snaps, a cocktail of adrenaline and rage that makes me lose control. My limbs, shaking, pull apart. I break my chains with ease and rise above them, roaring into the stale cabin air. Outside, the sun has gone to bed, and the night brings a fresh kind of darkness.

  I go berserk, smashing their heads like they were made of clay. I lunge forward, doing my best to physically hurt those Hellspawn who have invaded my hallowed sanctum. My throat feels raw as I unleash all of my pain.

  Violence is followed by silence. Do I feel guilt? Absolutely. But I couldn’t let them kill me. Not this time.

  Soon enough, the only sounds are the thunder of one person’s bare feet, and the gentle rustle of the cedar branches swaying in the wind. The bright flash of lightning can be seen from the window.

  She’s coming. But there are more of them, forest hunters looking for an alien to kill. I can hear the growls and howls of others coming from the opposite direction, footsteps thumping on the forest floor. I spin and look through the window again, only to see the faint outline of torches.

  “What have I done?” I ask aloud.

  I wind my arm back as the door flies open. But when I see her face, I have to stop everything to stare at her beauty. Her hair is flowing in the wind, clothes from a unique time period. Her expression, and the aura surrounding her allows me to know it’s the one. My mate, the woman I’ve been waiting to catch.

  She freezes. "It’s you,” she says.

  I squint my eyes, confused. “Have we met?” I ask.

  She nods, but doesn’t come any closer.

  I remember enough of my past lives, but one thing stands out the most. Her face. It’s like someone imprinted it into my mind.

  This reality was made for me. I have tested it, time and time again. But I have always been alone, waiting for her presence to set me free.

  Now that a new character has been introduced to this world of repetition, my loop has been broken. All the pain and pleasures I’ve felt here have amounted to this moment.

  She has come here to rescue me from this planet.

  I need her.

  Unfortunately, that means taking her.

  Once she sees the blood and carnage, the bodies stacked in neat piles, she turns stiff. I round her front, forcing her toward the center of the room. The voices grow louder outside. They’ll be here soon to get me.

  I can’t let her run.

  Startled, she knocks a candle onto the ground. The flame spreads over the wet stain of alcohol. Entropy soon takes way as the fire begins to eat the wood. Her pupils widen with fear, but I am faster and more cunning than any human can expect.

  I’m behind her, arms locked around her brittle neck. My need, beyond my control.

  Her body turns rigid with alarm, horror at her own ineptitude to defend herself in such a critical moment.

  As I hold her steady, she tries to kick my shins. I pull her out of the cabin, feet slipping out from underneath her. Her neck falls tighter in my grasp, instinct telling me to slay her, to end her in the same brutal way I ended the others.

  But her scent is as intoxicating as I am deadly.

  She is special. More special than she knows.

  But I do not love.

  I take.

  4

  Ava

  This world is seamless.

  To Elon, it must feel like an algorithmic breakthrough of the highest magnitude. I’m not denying it. It’s a miracle.

  But are all miracles good?

  Outside, our world is chaos. But in here, there is order. There is even a God.

  Elon.

  Am I dreaming? No. I am awake. Far too awake for my liking.

  My head throbs. Limbs feel like anchors. I can’t move, and my neck feels like it was crushed by an anaconda.

  I can’t forget what I witnessed. The horror I came across, that Elon put in here for me to find.

  There were bodies. Many of them. There was fire and incantation in the distance, the sound of buckshot and southern dialect. Before I could react, he took me.

  He rocked my world, and not in the way I would’ve liked him to. Elon could have brought some innocence to this place. Maybe some love, a bout of lust, and some fireworks. Instead, he made his alien cyborg take me here, to a small adobe church down south, where the water meets the forest in a series of bubbling marshes.

  Did Elon create this world to imprison me?

  My alien captor notices me wake. All around him are kneeling villagers, dark-eyed and staring as if he were a golden omnibus, a treasure for all to witness. They pray in hushed tones; the women kiss the beast’s ankles.

  Synthetic tears roll from their perfectly designed eyes.

  “I’ve been here before,” the alien says. “In a dream. Yes, everything is becoming clearer now.”

  I lean forward and cough. “… what happened to me?” I ask.

  He closes his eyes and exhales, waving his head as if he were listening to the sounds of the world for the very first time.

  As hot and demanding a
s he is, he’s a little psychotic.

  “Something has changed here,” he says. “Can you feel it?”

  “I’m... not sure,” I mutter.

  As illusory as this world is, Elon chose not to overwrite pain. My senses are more heightened than ever before. So much so I feel everything he feels.

  I have so many questions. Can people die here? Did he program his monsters to kill? Just how far is Elon willing to take this?

  One step into his world is all it takes to cause me to forget I was just inside a massive tech warehouse of servers containing algorithmic software. Yet, what happens here is so lifelike. I need to engage in this experience with extreme caution.

  But there’s one caveat: I don’t know what is real and what is fake.

  I turn to begging fast. “Please. Let me go,” I say. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

  Yeah, like that’s going to work, Ava.

  He takes a step down from the altar, cross shimmering behind his head. “You may be infected,” he grunts. “Like them.”

  The praying villagers do not stir. After all, they don’t know they’re cyborgs. They keep to the script quite well.

  “Oh, God,” I whisper. “If you only knew the truth.”

  He bends his back, muscles twitching into action. “Who sent you here?” he asks.

  I ignore his question, eyes darting toward the exit behind me. “If this is a simulation, there are load points. Various storylines should open up to us as time moves forward. This must be the start of Elon’s narrative. Where I end up depends on how I react,” I whisper. “So, Elon. What do I have to do to get out of this?”

  The alien lunges down the rest of the steps, landing around my chained-up body. He pins me to the floor with his massive appendages, flesh rough with scars. Enraged, he snarls and takes my chin, twisting my head to spawn more terror in my heart.

  Suddenly, he’s breathing down my neck. Wickedly, he purrs. “Don’t you understand? This world is a sinking stone. Another fortune for me to take and plunder. You cannot escape. Not without me.”

  Thin streams of tears fall from my eyes. “Please,” I mutter. “You’re hurting me.”

  He eases his grip, but he does not stop. “The scar on your spine – I’ve seen it before. What is it from?” he asks.

  Scar on my spine? I don’t have any noticeable scars. My smooth skin is the product of coding in the safety of my own home.

  I swallow, heart pounding against my chest. I still know who I am. I’m real, and there’s a reason Elon brought me here. There is something he wants from me. Something beyond my expertise. I need to find out what that is.

  I need to think like Elon.

  And then it comes to me.

  I don’t need to escape the alien. I need to follow him. I need to save him from the simulation.

  But how do I save something I fear might kill me?

  Do I give myself to this sexual beast?

  I clear my throat, inhaling with a slight tremble. “Wait. I think I’m here to save your life,” I say.

  He dials back his anger, observing me as if I’m the alien in this simulation. Perhaps I’ve said the magic word.

  “What makes you think I need your help?” he growls, voice commanding.

  He looks so realistic, down to the details of the scales on his skin. His cock is a throbbing masterpiece of flesh and artificial bone, and I have to wonder, is his mechanized fuck included in the simulation?

  If I woke up here without Elon’s help, I would have no doubt this alien was real. One hundred percent alive, like me.

  This world, the simulation Elon created, is truly spectacular, a venture he could easily make millions from. But I think there’s more to it than that.

  There’s a deeper meaning to this place.

  I remember how he acted inside the glass chamber. He was like a caged animal in there. He needs my help more than he knows.

  Let’s keep this going. Let’s have some fun.

  “I saw you crash into the forest, but I wasn’t with those hunters,” I say. “I was given your coordinates by a higher source.”

  Let’s see if he believes me.

  His nostrils flair. “The Xebulon?”

  The Xebulon must be some other alien ruling force. I go with it, crafting a lie that seems believable.

  “You see? You know more than I do,” I say, hoping he’ll buy it.

  “The Xebulon would never entrust a human to do their dirty work,” he says.

  I fake laughter. “You underestimate the hatred they have for their own kind,” I mutter. “They’d rather trust a human than someone like you.”

  A grin as sharp as glass cuts through his stern lips. He laughs, hands trickling around my waist. “You have a sense of humor,” he says.

  This experience is unlike anything I have ever encountered in my thirty-one years of living.

  Any of my actions can change the course of what happens here. This world isn’t real, but my footprint still echoes with importance. I’m not sure whether to smile or keep my mouth shut.

  Before I can speak, he stands and pulls against my chains. “So, will you let me go?” I ask.

  Is unlocking the AI this easy? No, Elon isn’t that shortsighted. He wouldn’t send me into this place without first strengthening the code. There’s more to this scenario than meets the eye.

  I need to keep him moving.

  “I don’t need to chain you up to keep you loyal,” he says. “Someone has injected you with a slow-acting poison. If you leave my side, you will die.”

  My bones rattle, pulse throbbing, cold. “P-P-Poison?”

  There is no way…

  He nods. “Flowing through your bloodstream as we speak,” he says.

  I swallow, throat as tight as a finger-trap, my heart beating rapidly.

  It can’t be real.

  But when I glance at the ditch of my arm, I see something impossible. There is a slight bruise where a needle has penetrated the skin. I cup my palm around the wound, sighing from a sudden onset of pain.

  Fuck, Elon. Is he serious?

  “Lucky for you, I know where the cure is,” he says.

  I open my lips, but it’s difficult to breathe. I remember my father, the harsh reality he brought to the table. That pales in comparison to this.

  I can’t do this. I can’t get away. Repeat after me: This isn’t real. I am in control.

  “I don’t fear you,” I say.

  But he calls my bluff, laughing like an evil deity sent to destroy this “Earth.” Without effort, he spins and slashes a villager’s throat. The head falls like a bowling ball, a clean break around the cartilage and bone. It rolls down the stairs, weight bouncing off my heel.

  The blood drapes his masculine body, and I’m left to scramble away from him like a pathetic insect.

  “Oh my God,” I cry. “You… killed… him…”

  He isn’t worried about it. Not in the least bit. “I bet your pussy tastes sweet like nectar,” he hisses. “I have half a mind to fuck your cunt raw, to breed my species into yours. How does that sound?”

  Did Elon program this filth into his speech patterns? If that’s the case, there’s a lot I don’t know about my cousin. If not, then he’s running off script.

  But that would be impossible…

  I crumple to my knees, face down. My fingers dig into the concrete floor, the smell of death hitting my nostrils. I roll forward and allow the weight of my regret to filter down onto my tongue.

  “I should have never agreed to this,” I tell myself.

  The stakes are real here. Possibly realer than what you get in the actual world. In the real world, everything is pre-defined. But in here, there are choices. Choices that define your story.

  I think I’ve made the wrong one.

  As soon as I blink, the brutal alien grabs the back of my neck, forcing me lower, until my spine is pinned to the floor like a butterfly in a display case. A driving pain shoots across the center of my back.

&
nbsp; I can’t move.

  He issues a set of noises, clicking sounds that shift in tone. The cacophony of noise tickles through my ear canal, and my body turns rigid.

  “If you want to play the role of dumb damsel, be my guest,” he growls.

  I’m still too scared to speak. Naturally, I try to fight him off, but he locks my hands much too easily.

  Grinding against my backside, the alien threads his hand through the back of my pants, ripping the hard denim down the center. His fingers brush past my lips, ending all preconceived notions of safety.

  His cock is harder than I thought possible, and I’m ashamed to report how wet I am.

  There’s no greater catalyst than fear.

  Breathing in deep, he grins, intoxicated with power. “The things I could do to you,” he says.

  “No…”

  I’m not ready. This is moving way too fast.

  He tears my pants all the way off, spanking my exposed flesh. I should be kicking and screaming, but I can’t.

  I remember what Elon once told me, years before he came back. Everyone holds a secret. And secrets are meant to get unearthed.

  This is a choice. Just like every choice, it comes with an unknown consequence. Not just his cock.

  Maybe I want this. Maybe I’ve always yearned to be somebody’s toy. Yes, there’s a wicked side to all of us, complimented by a direct need to be swept off our feet with love.

  I want to be carried away into a bright sunset. Isn’t that every woman’s dream?

  His laughter is warm. His breath, teasing across my skin. He slides his nose up the side of my neck, but when his lips near my ear, he pulls away. “Lucky for you, we have somewhere to be.”

  I catch my breath, half excited, half terrified. Slightly ashamed. “We do?” I ask.

  His hands are firm around my chains. “If we’re going to leave Earth’s atmosphere, we’ll need a functioning craft,” he says.

  “Leave? Earth’s atmosphere?” I ask.

  “No more questions. You’re coming with me.”

  I was hoping he’d know the proper way out. After all, there’s no way this simulation can last more than a couple of hours. Regulators would label the technology a safety hazard. People need some sort of assurance their life is not a simulation.