Chapter Text
'This is a dream,' I say to myself. It's obviously a dream. I've had plenty of these nightmares before. The kind where you can't move no matter how much you struggle. Normally the spine chilling dread on its own is enough to wake me up, but none of my other methods to force myself awake are working either.
I have no choice but to watch as a human-squid hybrid alien comes floating over with some wriggling thing in its hands. As it gets closer, I notice the thing it is holding looks like a pale slimey leech.
'Wake up! Fucking wake up!'
Nothing is working. It's as if something else is in control of my body and mind, forcing me to watch. The closer the thing gets to me the more terror I feel. It's no longer just spine chilling, its ice cold dread freezing my whole body. All my struggling and I can't even scream.
The squid stops in front of me and gives me a close up look at the pale leech in its hands. The wiggling slimey thing was terrifying enough before, but now it has become some kind of eldritch being with tentacles and a swirling mouthful of fangs. It reaches out towards my face excitedly. I know where this is going now. My over active imagination tells me that the eldritch leech is a squid thing larvae and I'm going to be its first meal. It's going to eat me from the inside.
Contrary to pop culture myth, if you die in your sleep, you do wake up. Normally it's the catalyst for waking up actually. So I let myself go. Force myself to relax and let it happen. The sooner I die here, the faster I can wake up in my nice warm bed. Slimey tentacles probe around my eyeball as it slides itself into my head and I finally pass out. Thank fuck I can wake up now.
Or not.
When I 'wake up', I'm not in my bed. I'm in some kind of pod and everything around me reeks of burning flesh. I ache all over, but the most worrying pain is in my head, just behind my eyes. It feels like something that could be an eldritch tentacle leech crawling around. Things are way too real now to be a dream. What's that '5 things grounding technique' I learnt for anxiety panic attacks?
Five things I can see:
Smashed and burning flesh covered walls.
The inside of a broken and thankfully not burning pod.
Other broken pods, some that are on fire.
Dead alien squid.
A large vat that the eldritch leech lived in.
That didn't help with the rising panic at all.
Four things I can touch:
I touch the pod as I climb out of it.
The floor is squishy and warm beneath my bare feet.
I pick up a cricket bat.
I smash the vat with it and it explodes blasting me across the room.
The pain from the blast wakes me from my growing panic attack. I remember waking up to a strange noise and grabbing the bat. I had just moved and It was my first time living alone so I kept a solid wooden cricket bat next to my bed for 'security'. When the strange noises hadn't gone away I cautiously went to go see what was happening. Clubs may be some of the oldest known weapons, but I'm not sure what use they can be against aliens. It seems to be more helpful than the grounding technique at least.
So this is real. I go to check the other pods and look around the room for clues as to where I could be. As a loud banging and shaking rumbles through the room, I get the feeling that I need to find out what the fuck is happening really fast. As far as I know, if you die in real life; you don't wake up.
If my insane theory of the leech being a squid larvae was true, this was some kind of hatching room. In the pods that I am able to reach are other humanoid creatures. Those that are not too mangled from the crash are anyway. Some look human, some look only mostly human, some don't look like anything you have ever seen before, but all of them are dead. I doubt any of them were here willingly. I gather whatever I can find that may be useful. Corpse robbing is as unpleasant as you would expect, I try not to think too hard about it. I'm trying really hard not to think about anything other than escaping alive.
As I explore the room, I find a slate, with what seems to be some kind of writing on it. I try to take a closer look, see if I could recognise the language and images flash through my mind. A tentacled ship flying through space, flashes of different places, planets and galaxies. I can understand this language, even if I can't read or recognise it. Wonderful.
So aliens, and alien technology, my imagination isn't normally right. It explains a bit about the situation, but doesn't answer anything. Here I am, a primitive cavewoman with a fucking club, against aliens. The club doesn't even have a nail in it. As an unwilling hitchhiker, I take the advice of those more experienced and try not to panic.
After the looting, I have some clothes, a large pair of boots, a dagger and some shiny rocks. The most useful item I find is a backpack that is bigger on the inside. It already has what looks to be camping gear, and is able to fit everything else I find as well. I don't know if the bag has a limit to how much it can hold, but everything in it still weighs the same, so there is a limit to how much I can carry.
Considering the many rumours of what aliens do to people; I am thankful to be still wearing my PJs, but they're not very protective. Among the items I gathered are some leather clothing and there is a vest that is large enough for a tight fit'. This ends up working for me as I can position my boobs in it like a breast binder, and they are now out of the way and safe. Or at least won't give me back pain as I am creeping around. Armoured up with a leather vest, boots stuffed with extra socks so they fit and a cricket bat, I am ready to move forward.
There is an open pod next to the door with glowing blue tentacles. I haven't gone near it yet, but I need to make sure it's not going to attack me before I turn my back to it as I leave the room. I poke it with the bat. Nothing. At least it's not going to explode like the nursery vat. With the bat ready to swing , I reach out with the other hand to examine the pod. The tentacles extended out and wrap around my hand and I pull back fast; bat ready in case it follows. Nothing. Looking down at my hand I notice it's clean and the small scratches that I had gotten as I was rummaging in the wreckage are gone.
Alien technology. This must be some kind of healing device. I test my theory with my other hand. Seems to work. I hold my breath and jump into the pod. I feel much better. Unfortunately I can still feel the pressure behind my eyes moving around. Figures that they wouldn't have a device that kills their kids. My over active imagination makes me grateful that the incubation pods don't have the healing device in them. That would mean they keep you alive and fresh for their young. I need to stop thinking about that right now. Don't panic.
The door looks like a buthole. Under other situations I would be giggling. An alien ship with buthole portals. Grow up, I'm 35; not 5. Humour can be a good way of coping, but at the moment, I need to focus. I decide it's probably not a good idea to fist the buthole without protection and instead probe it with the bat. It opens up without me needing to touch it. Didn't even need lube. The crashing and rumbling is getting more frequent, so I put my metaphorical grown up pants back on and get to escaping.
As soon as I enter the next room, I hear a voice in my head. "We're here; we're stuck; help us; we're over here" it kept on saying. I have a complicated relationship with the voices in my head, and I know this isn't one of the regular ones. I'm sure it has something to do with my uninvited guest. A quick look around and I don't see any floating squids, so I ignore the voice for now and start to explore.
Immediately to my right is a body lying on a table. It's humanoid shaped, if that's the right word to use. It has a head, body, arms and legs. The same amount of them and in the same order as a human, but it's only half the size and a swamp green colour. There is one of those alien tablets on the table and I reach for it.
Goblin. That's what the tablet called this creature. I'm not sure if it is the actual name for it, or the closest equivalent word that the mental connection could find. I now know a brief idea about goblins, their culture and history. These tablets are a strange way of learning, I put this one in my bag with the other one and plan on pocketing any more I find.
I do end up finding more of them along with a handful of books. The books are damaged beyond reading. Even if they were in a decent condition, I can't understand the language it is written in.
Touching the tablets, I get images of a grand Empire spanning across the universe, fleets of ships identical to this one. A concept of all as one being and one being all; a greater collective that is one mind. A warning about one that is separate, an anomaly, they are dangerous. Information about the tentacle ship, how it's a hybrid of technology and living tissue. I pause at that; I thought the burnt meat smell was from the burnt people in the pod room, but now I notice that it hasn't lessened after leaving that room. The ship itself is made of flesh and is burning. If I wasn't already in a hurry to escape, this would be a good motivation.
It isn't just the ship being a living thing that's unsettling about this place. These aliens are obsessed with brains. Brains are displayed in tanks set up like aquariums, in jars on desks like fancy paper weights, brains are even the first meal offered to their young. It's like the people who like cats a bit too much and have cat themed items everywhere; except they also eat the cats.
The next lot of information I find is about humans and humanoid creatures; Elves, orcs, dwarves, halflings and more. The alien technology must be using the information I have in my brain to fill in the ideas, unless this is a plot twist and the sci-fi is now a fantasy. I'm not sure if 'humanoid' should be the word to use, it's a bit species-ist considering that I'm just as alien. Before I can start down a rabbit hole of disassociation another thunderous rumbling reminds me to move on.
The voice in my head is still calling out. I should deal with it before it deals with me.
It turns out to be the brain of another victim. The person, elf the new information in my head supplies, is dead. His brain is communicating with mine, it wants help being born, breaking free from its skull. Fucking brain obsessed aliens. I smash the thing with my bat, the brain is pretty squishy without a skull. I'm not sure if I did the right thing and I know the dying screams echoing in my head will be a new addition to my nightmares. I also know that if I was turning into one of those things I would want someone to put an end to me.
An idea pops into my head despite my attempt at focusing on an escape; A greater collective with one mind. Is this a hive mind? The brain was talking like it wasn't an individual, but a part of a greater whole. Was I abducted by squid Borg? Fuck. I'm stopping this train of thought. I need to switch off and not think.
There is a burning hole in the flesh wall leading outside. I'm grateful that we're not in space, and the air is breathable wherever we are. I really need to learn to stop thinking, especially about the prospect of suffocating in space, and just focus on getting off this ship alive. Carefully I move to the edge and try and see what is going on. Maybe I'll be lucky and still be on earth. That the world has united to attack the alien invasion and this is the beginning of world peace.
Nope, I think I should just choose insanity as an option; if I'm not there already. Dragons! Big, red, fire breathing, mother fucking dragons are attacking the ship. If that wasn't a sign that this wasn't earth, the scenery would be a dead giveaway. It resembles a mediaeval painting of hell. The rivers are blood red, larva is oozing through cracks in the mountains and acid green clouds are spitting fire from the sky. Somehow it smells even worse out here than in the burning flesh ship. Is there any point in trying to escape? Maybe the people in the pods that died instantly are the lucky ones.
The larvae in my head squirms and my head throbs in response. That's the only warning I get before someone leaps over me and holds a blade to my throat. They're shouting at me, but I can't understand what they are saying. I'm not sure if it is because it's in an alien language or the sickening pounding in my skull. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with images, flashes of memories that aren't my own, of dragons and silver, and a vision of myself from someone else's eyes. I look ridiculous by this person's standards, even disregarding the flower pattern PJ's and leather vest ensemble.
And then it ends. We're back to our own minds, with only a lingering ache. I don't want to do that ever again.
I finally have a chance to actually look at the person who I connected with. I had been more focused on the sword at my throat and the pain in my head before the mind meld. Now I can see why she would think my species looks ridiculous. She is definitely not human. The humanoid shape appears to be the most popular option of the aliens I've seen so far. A body with two arms and legs and one head on the top. It's all the other details that differ.
Chartreuse green skin, long and pointy ears, and a small flat nose are the most prominent differences. She is also wearing what looks to be metal armour, carrying a sword and a cross bow, ready for battle. More technologically advanced than my animal hide and club, and as a bonus, she looks like she knows how to use them.
She is trying to talk to me again and I still can't understand her. My dumb look must be frustrating her, because I'm pretty sure that last part was a swear word of some kind. She then pushes me out of the way as fire shoots past us. With either more swearing or a battle cry, she charges at the winged demon that threw fire at us. So apparently there are demons in hell. Who would have thought.
The green alien has three fire shooting, winged demons focusing on her and looks to be winning. I plan on staying out of her way. I'm not being a coward, I'm just not a fighter. I've never even been in a fight before. Staying out of her way is the best I can do. That is what I tell myself right up until I see some kind of horned pig preparing itself for an attack in her direction. Without thinking, I charge at it with my bat ready to swing. I may not be a fighter but I should be able to handle some tenderising pork. I hope.
By the time I've finished preparing the deviled ham the green alien has a pile of spicy wings ready to serve. She seems irritated that I can't understand her and glares at me disapprovingly when I start looting the dead demons. I make it quick; I don't want to cave in to the look, but I'm now fully aware how well she can use that sword. I find a few hard balls that look like they could do some damage if thrown, a bottle of strange red liquid and the weapons they where using. They all get shoved into the bag. When I'm done, I follow the alien.