Twisted Dreams

🟥 Alien

A vast alien world, dotted here and there with monstrous jagged peaks, sprawling foggy forests, and just the faintest hints of civilization. A handful of the largest trees have been converted into gigantic treehouses with dozens of shops and houses built onto branching platforms. Clans of humans that have taken up residence on this planet inhabit the treehouses, as well as communities of log buildings and carved stone monuments.

Massive, lumbering creatures with six long, spindly legs and two necks twice the length, ending in needle-pointed heads, traverse the fields in the distance. Flying things roughly the size and shape of footballs with huge fly's wings the size of human arms dart between rocky ravines with buzzing that rattles your brain. What appears to be a millipede crawls through the forest - at nearly a thousand feet long, with gargantuan legs that pierce the soil and uproot small trees, and a flat face that carries terrifying pincers.

Purple hog-like creatures that can move about on their hind legs and hold tools with opposable thumbs have their own camps and clans. The natural enemy of mankind.

Two men, laughing and joyous, thread their way between the mountaintops on dark red hang gliders, slicing through the air. One is tall and thin, with dark hair pulled back into a flapping ponytail, an angular, almost fox-like face, and dressed in olive greens and dark greys that compliment his milky complexion. The other is much shorter, broad-shouldered and small waisted, short hair dyed dandelion yellow and shaved on the sides and back, and atop his dark skin he wears dark leather and jeans.

They skim the grass, whooping and hollering, unknowingly calling the attention of a nearby band of pig creatures. Vicious and hungry, they lob stones at the men until their gliders are full of holes and they tumble to the earth. Bruised and brave, they put up a fight - but they're unarmed, and the creatures clutch jagged weapons and heavy tools.

-

You bite your lip as you stand there in the small village, arms stiff at your sides. The black cloth you wear is uncomfortable, but respectful, you chide yourself. The mayor's voice fills your ears as she recounts the lives of the two men, ending with a tragic farewell that the rest of the group repeats, murmuring. You join them, but frown: they can't be dead. Right?

-

"Hello?"

The voice startles you and you yelp, spinning around and brandishing your wooden gardening shovel. The figure standing bloody in the forest jars you, teasing at the edges of your memory.

"Hello, can you help me? I... I don't remember anything. I just woke up here, and I think... I think I've broken a few bones."

-

He mumbles softly under his breath, as if repeating a lullaby, as he watches you redo the bandages on his arms.

"What's that you're saying?" you ask him, finishing up with one arm and moving to his other side.

"Oh, I... I don't know what it means, or where I'd learned it, but I think it's Latin. It's the only thing I can remember - besides the two names, of course."

Right - the two names. His and his partner's. He's extremely lucky to have stumbled back into his own community, even if he couldn't remember anything else. He's sure that, if he can find his partner, he'll be able to remember everything, but he knows we aren't sure he's still alive.

"Finished," you say, pulling away.

"Thank you."

-

"They're back!" a young girl tells you as she passes the garden you're hunched over in.

You straighten up, tucking the shovel into your belt and dusting off your gloves. With searching eyes, you turn and scan the skies by the cliff face your village is perched upon. Sure enough, a smooth, dark shape soars past, nearly silent even with its size and speed. A second one follows suit: the Hovers and their respective teams, back from the expedition they'd left on a few days ago.

The Hovers land on the stone platform a little ways a way, before the tops open up and the teams hop out, grinning and laughing and clapping each other's backs. Then they, and a few volunteers from the village, drag out crates of food and material that they'd collected. Suddenly the all-too-familiar sound of a crudely carved horn being blown pierces the air: the war cry of the pig creatures. The village descends into chaos, screaming and running and desperately trying to quickly secure the Hovers.

-

The biggest wooden building, the shop, is stuffed full of every person in the village that couldn't or didn't want to fight. Strong men and women battle fiercely with the pig creatures outside, with thick armor and fast weapons. They seem to be matched in terms of power, even though there are twice as many pigs. The mayor - a short, intimidating woman of about 40 - creeps behind you as you're watching the battle through the shop door's small window. Her hand on your back makes you jump, and you whirl around.

"Oh - mayor," you acknowledge, your spine running cold.

She smiles at you with yellow teeth and small, beady eyes. You gulp. After a moment, she silently turns and walks away. You catch the eye of the bandaged man, who visibly shudders. You manage a feeble smile before turning back to the door's window. Through it, you notice that the fencing - electric, meant to prevent some monsters - is knocked over on one side. Your brow furrows, and you itch to run out and fix it. But the thought of asking the mayor makes you hesitate only a moment, before you grit your teeth and force yourself to find her.

There are rumors that fly around about the mayor: that the disappearances of the village members (who just so happened to be the ones that verbally opposed her) weren't accidents. You wonder if the rumors are true.

-

In the back of the store, the mayor is quickly pressing a floorboard back into place. A man comes around the corner, unsurprised, and twirling a thin blade in his hands. She gasps and backs up, saying something unintelligible. Her normally small eyes are wide with terror, but the man doesn't hesitate. With a jerk of his hand, the blade punctures the mayor's stomach; she sucks in a breath, eyes rolling back. The blade is twisted, and she coughs up blood, before the knife is removed and she crumbles to the ground, the life fading from her eyes.

You come around the corner, but before you can react, a huge, shredding noise fills the air. The sound of a thousand vacuums thunders and roars, tearing apart your very being, and making the wooden shop scream and groan. You hear the front door tearing off its hinges, and suddenly the air is being sucked out of the room, and people are screaming in terror. Items fly off the shelves, nearly hitting you in the face.

A vortex. You grip a shelf tightly, grimacing as the mayor's body is hauled away. The floorboards at your feet are ripped apart, and a dark figure beneath them catches your eye through the blur of tears. The man; the one whose name was the only other thing the bandaged man could remember; the one you knew was alive.

He groans and clutches at the hollow space around him, trying desperately to keep from being pulled away. You carefully sidle around the edge of the shelf, hair whipping into your face, feet scrabbling to find purchase. Your arm reaches out and he weakly grabs it, allowing you to pull him out of the hole. He's much thinner and bonier than before, and his expression lacks emotion besides pain, but he's alive.