Page 3 of The Alien I Fell in Love with on Walpurgis Night

As the night wears on, I begin to feel cold, despite my new cloak. I walk closer to one of the bonfires. There’s a group of women singing an ancient German folksong nearby. Although I can’t understand the lyrics, the music is very moving. I gaze at the firelight and then my eyes peruse the faces, or rather some of the masks, worn by the others around the fire.

I feel eyes on me. Then my eyes catch another’s. A cloaked man seems to be staring at me. I can’t see his face, but it feels like he’s only looking at me. After a few minutes of concentrated staring, he begins moving closer and I tense.

What do I do? I look around, gauging the other people around this small bonfire. There are people of all ages here including a family from England. I decide I don’t need to run from this hooded man. He might not be coming to talk to me at all. It may be the dancing light from the fire playing tricks on me and my anxiety about being alone making me overly cautious. This is a crowded place. I’m surrounded by what looks to be regular tourists and local people. I’m safe.

I wasn’t mistaken. The man walks over to me, frightening with his devil’s mask and tall form. “Entschuldigung? Können Sie mir bitte helfen?”

I know he’s asking me for help, but I just shake my head. “Sorry,” I say in English and then in German, “Tut mir leid.”

Then he says something else completely incomprehensible to me.

I shake my head again. But I have to admit to myself while looking him up and down, he has a fantastic body in his incredibly tight black clothing that I can see peeking out from the opening in his cloak. But it freaks me out his hood is up, a mask on, and I can only see the reflection of the firelight in his eyes.

The father from the English family nearby has been watching this whole exchange, probably because he heard my heavily accented German, and he says to the man loudly, “You’re freaking her out. Take down your hood and then she might talk to you. If not, leave her alone.”

A lot of people stop their conversation and now stare at me and the hooded man. Then some of the Germans around me say something similar to what the English man had said, but in German.

The man in front of me slowly and theatrically takes down his hood to reveal a red devil’s mask and long black hair. Everyone around us laughs except me. I find this terrifying, but I don’t want him to know I’m afraid, so I smile playing along. Perhaps his intention was to frighten me as part of the tradition on Walpurgisnacht.

The man holds up his black gloved hands to the audience, as if this were all a performance, and they clap and holler appreciation. A few words of German are exchanged that I don’t understand and everyone goes back to their own conversation. As his cape opens with his hands up in the air, two silver necklaces reflect in the firelight, they look like they have a foreign language on them, but nothing I recognize as real. It looks like writing from the Voynich Manuscript which has never been translated.

The man is staring at me and I can see his eyes more clearly now. They’re green. He says something in a deep voice, but it’s incomprehensible to me.

I don’t want to admit I only have a few words of German. I don’t want to be any more of a target than I already am. I look around. Most people don’t think this man is a threat, maybe I shouldn’t either, maybe he is a local. But I’m frozen in his gaze by the moving firelight.

He repeats himself again; his voice deep and melodic. Then before I can stop him, he touches my arm and next all I see is blackness. And I feel like I’m going to be sick. I’m spinning. How can a drug work this fast? Am I dead? Have I died on Walpurgisnacht by the hand of the Devil? Or was he Death?

3

Axl

I hear the human female performers by the fire start singing the song, “…the earth, the air, the fire, the water, return, return, return…” and I take it as a sign from the goddesses that this lone blonde haired woman dressed in the goddesses’ green color is the one who can help me get back to the Empire. But she doesn’t speak this area’s language, so I have no choice but to use my stealth teleportation device and take her away. In the darkness, everyone will think that we walked away and they missed it. Humans have poor night vision and they don’t expect people to simply disappear. During my weeks here, I’ve noticed that most humans are easy to fool because they don’t want to believe in aliens or see any technology they can’t understand. In the newspapers, I’ve seen videos of Dulu and Alliance Force ships, but most humans refuse to believe alien life exists. Unfortunately, this is also what makes them easy targets for alien abduction.

I set my transportation device to take the blonde woman and myself far away up into the Harz mountains to the cabin I’ve been staying in. Once we rematerialize, I don’t let go of her, instead I tighten my grip on her arm. No doubt she’s going to try and run. I would if I were her.

When she realizes she’s whole again, she’s understandably confused. She looks up at me and I see fear in her eyes. No doubt it’s because of this devilish red mask. I’m not supposed to reveal myself to humans, but I know by all the signs from the goddesses, I will have to trust this human woman.

I slip off the hellion’s mask to calm her, but it has the opposite effect. She screams and it echoes through the trees. Some animals run, rustling the bushes. She tries to squirm and run away from me.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Are you the Devil?”

“No,” I say in Alliance and then say in the local language, “Nein.” She seems to understand the local language for this basic word.

“What do you want with me?”

“I need your help,” I make my tone soft when I ask her, hoping that she might understand me this time.

“I don’t understand.” She tries to twist out of my grip again. When she can’t she begins screaming for help. “Someone please help me! This man is going to kill me! Help! Someone please!”

“I’m sorry,” I say in the local language and drag her into my cabin. Inside, I restrain her with a few ties around her wrists and ankles while I prepare the medical instruments. She’s yelling so loudly I already feel guilty about this, but it can’t be helped. I have to be able to communicate with her and for that she needs a translator.

Once I’m ready to insert the device, I try to soothe her. “I’m not a doctor. I don’t have any telepathic skills, so it’s best if you stay as still as possible while I do this.”

She, of course, doesn’t understand me and just continues to shout for help and struggle. My only consolation is that at least she’s not crying.

“No one is coming. We are completely isolated here,” I tell her as I take her jaw firmly in one of my hands so I can insert the translation device. It takes a lot of my strength to keep her head stationary. No doubt she’ll have a bruise on her face tomorrow in the shape of my thumb and forefinger if I don’t heal her directly after the procedure.

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