Stranded - A Short Story by @krazydiamond

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Stranded!

By Krazydiamond


Waking up from hypersleep to find yourself caught in the gravitational field of some unknown dirtball planet suck Garbarian Sut Balls. Having had the misfortune of that memorable experience, Helen knew what she was talking about. She cursed so heavily the ionized air of her piloting compartment tinted blue. The joke of that situation was lost on her as she wrestled with the manual controls, sweat pouring off her as the ship plummeted in a spinning nosedive toward the planet's surface.

Her navigation system was offline. She had no idea how far off course she was, or how long she'd been off course. The landscape was spinning too fast to recognize, nothing more than very specific cerulean blue blur. Her stomach heaved and she forced herself to take her gaze off the spin-art landscape, focusing on the lit up dashboard. Alarm punched through all the other sensations as the power flickered. If she lost power, she was one dead duck in the water. Sending up a prayer to any passing vessels in range, she punched her distress signal seconds before the panel sputtered and went dark.

Helen's heart pounded in her throat as she strapped herself into her seat in complete darkness, listening to the hull whine at the pressure as they popped into the lower atmosphere. Strapped in just in time as her body went weightless. The ship was in free fall. She didn't need the ship's calculations to know there was a miniscule chance she was going to survive this impact. Helen closed her eyes, lifting her mind drift for what could be her last few moments. She should never have taken this scouting job.

There wasn't much time for regrets as her ears registered the metal tearing and screaming as it hit the ground. Her mind registered the force as her body slammed forward seconds before her senses bottomed out. Her hearing came back first, the snap, pop, hiss of the ship filtered through wild sounds, the cries and screams of animals that sounded familiar and strange in the same breath. The backs of her eyelids were lit up with a warm orange glow that could be fire or sunlight, though the gentle heat made her hope for the latter. Opening her eyes proved a new kind of agony.

She went joyriding once, back home. Stole her brother's atv and went riding along the melted dunes of Old Ohio. The sun scorched the stones into a natural kind of asphalt, providing a thrilling, bumpy kind of ride. At some point, the girded wheels of her atv jammed and sent her flipping off to leave a nice skid mark of leathers and skin. Her body felt like that now, one massive road rash. She wondered if she'd left a skidmark of herself across the alien terrain.

Eventually she peeled her sore lids open, trying to make sense of the blurry vibrantly colored shapes around her. Slowly the shapes resolved into a more sensible image.

The ship was gone around her. Ripped away on impact. By some sort of miracle the bucket seat remained intact, a flimsy cage of fibers and rebar that kept her body from shredding like wet tissue along the ground. She was on her back, staring up through the foliage, and while her body hurt, it appeared to be in one piece.

Carefully easing her buckles open, she groaned as her body slid and slumped down onto the moist squishy ground. Breathing hard she took stock of her surroundings. The alien atmosphere was compatible to her biology. That was a relief for her lungs. She swallowed a few breaths, puzzled by the scent of cinnamon. It made her slightly light headed by the fuzzy spots in her vision cleared. The world around her came in brilliant hues, blended colors, almost neon in their intensity, sharp poisonous greens, throbbing blues, and acidic yellows. She turned her head; the moist ground was a deep crimson, like lying on a blood saturated carpet that smelled like snickerdoodles. Ignoring that contradictory image, she attempted to sit up. Her limbs shook with the effort, as if everything was weighted down by an extra forty pounds. Had she hurt herself worse than she thought? She grunted, trying to take stock of her body. Everything felt so heavy. Turning her head in the other direction was a monumental effort. Perhaps this planet's atmosphere wasn't as compatible as she first thought. After several minutes of grunting and straining, she managed to roll to her stomach, looking around for the remains of her ship. Her heart dropped to her stomach in a feeling that had nothing to do with the planet's gravity.

The remains of her ship lay scattered in pieces of charred shrapnel, so finely shredded even her distress signal had to be pulverized.

How the hell was Helen going to get off this technicolor cookie? For that matter, how was she going to survive if she could barely move? Now that she had flipped onto her stomach, she could actually feel the drag of the planet's gravity on her limbs. It was hard to draw a full breath and the idea of standing felt impossible. Her internal dilemma was interrupted by the ominous rustling from the nearby foliage. Images played in her mind of surviving the crash only to be eaten alive by some predator. She tensed, trying to crawl further away from the rustling. It felt like there two ton weights tied to her ankles. Helen went still, playing on the fleeting hope a predator would rely on movement to track prey through the living Picasso forest.

What shuffled through the foliage looked nothing like a predator. The creature was barely three feet high, wearing what looked like a stylish burlap sack for clothing. Its hairless skin was the same brilliant cerulean hue as the leaves while the features of its face were comically small. Its mouth was little more than puckered hole. Two large button black eyes peered at her. The alien tilted its head, emitting a soft whistling sound from its mouth.

Helen was still trying to work out if this alien was possibly friendly when a dozen more popped out from the surrounding foliage. Her stomach dropped again when she noticed two of them were carrying some kind of rope. It looked like being eaten was still on the table though this lot looked intelligent enough to cook her first. There was more foliage rustling, massive rustling actually, and from the way the group froze and turned to look, she wondered if a predator was about to intrude after all, but another being stepped into view.

Helen blinked. The newcomer was clearly not a native. His bright orange pebbled skin didn't blend whatsoever, garishly bright even though an environmental suit covered a good deal of it. The tribe of blue bandits froze at the sight of him and for one fleeting moment, Helen wondered if her luck had taken an upswing.

"Help me," she slurred, "please." The effort as speaking was as difficult as everything else but she forced the words out, giving the newcomer her best pleading face.

The expression faded as he smiled at her. It was not a nice smile. It made her weighted insides squirm. "Excellent, this one survived!" He laughed when she gaped at him. "Surprised to hear your language on this backwater blip of a planet human?"

He stepped closer, the hydraulics of his suit wheezing as he bent his face closer to her. "You aren't the first of your race we've snared."

"Snared?" Helen sputtered, renewing her struggles to move.

"You think you crashed by accident?" The orange one straightened, jerking his head to the little blue guys who surrounded her. "We have a few well placed pieces of tech to ensure your ship got caught in the rather strong gravitational pull of this planet."

"What--what are you going to do to me?" The words took too much strength out of her, leaving her winded.

The orange one's smile widened, revealing lime green serrated teeth. "You'll note the effect of the gravity drag on your system. Your kind make an excellent spectacle in the observational zoo. But don't worry, human. You'll live out your days in ease while the gravity gradually crushes your internal organs."

Dread wormed through Helen as the whistling blue assholes closed in on her. The head orange asshole's shadow fell over her. "Welcome to your new home."

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