Page 2 of Aura Awakened

“What on earth?” I reach out a tentative finger and poke at it.

Mistake.

My finger stings, almost as if the light burned or cut me. I yank my hand back and try to spin away, ready to cross the street and get the Sam Hill away from this phenomenon, butI can’t.It’s as if gravity has shifted: rather than being pulled down to the ground, I’m tugged forward toward the twirling light. I dig my heels in and push backward, but I’m no match for whatever is yanking at me. I try to scream, but all that comes out is a squeak. Then pressure blasts me from all sides, squeezing me until I’m compressed like a .zip file. I drop my purse and the tiara with a clatter, and before I can do anything else, I’m sucked into the void.

“What. In. The. Hell?” I mutter, blinking and trying to get my bearings, which is nearly impossible, giving that my surroundings are exceedingly dimly lit. The last thing I remember was encountering that weird, spinning wheel of light and getting pulled into it. Now I’m in a dark, cavernous space. It’s silent and freezing; I can feel goosebumps erupting up and down my arms. My skin hurts, probably from the contact with the light. Was that thing some sort of…portal? Is that even possible?

I try to rub my biceps, to soothe my skin, and that’s when I realize my hands are pinned. I squirm, but it’s useless. I can’t move. I’m trapped in the dark, paralyzed. So, I do the only thing I can do.

I scream myself hoarse.

I don’t know how much time passes—it feels like hours—before someone arrives. Though “someone” doesn’t quite cover it. It’s more like something. Two somethings, in fact.

At least ten feet tall, lumpy and amorphous, with rubbery-looking skin as black and iridescent as an oil slick. The…creatures…have the disconcerting eight-eyed gaze of a spider, with the chelicerae to match. It’s as if someone made a mud mountain, painted it black, then crossbred it with an arachnid and slapped a carapace on top.

Then did it again.

They are horrifying, and suddenly I’m glad I’m somehow suspended upright, because otherwise I might just pass out.

I’ve never seen anything like this, outside of a horror movie.

But this is no film, and I think…maybe…

I think these are aliens.

Honest-to-goodness creatures from outer space.

It’s not totally out of the realm, I guess, no pun intended. Humans have been leaving Earth for space colonies for the past century, and have sent back reports of other space-faring species. But to my knowledge, those species have never come to Earth before. Never opened a portal here. Never abducted humans!

I’ve always been happy to stay planet-bound; I’ve only ever wanted to be a florist. I’m down with a good vacation, sure, but interstellar exploration does not interest me.

And yet, here I am.

Except, where is here? It looks like I’m in a warehouse. From hell. Huge, dim, cold. Mostly silent, except for the soft whirring of equipment.

One of the creatures opens its mouth and emits a series of high-pitched, whining screeches. I instinctively try to clamp my hands over my ears, but of course, I can’t. To my amazement, a moment later, my brain processes the awful noise and converts it to speech.

This one is special. Royalty.

I frown, but the critter is definitely pointing his creepy, lobster-claw hand at me.

Uh, okay? I don’t know where you got your memo, buddy, but I ain’t royalty.

I clear my aching throat. “Where am I? Who are you? What’s going on?”

The other one screeches in my direction, and just as before, the noise translates itself after a moment.

Silence, slave.

“Hey!” I shout, but it’s the wrong move. The one who pointed steps closer and taps the air in front of my face. It’s only then that I realize I’m separated from the thing by some sort of invisible barrier. It taps again, this time off to the side, and with a whoosh, glass doors on butterfly hinges snap around me like a Venus flytrap, enclosing me in a little pod. Before I can react, tubes shoot out of the newly formed walls. One forces its way into my mouth and down my throat. I gag, retch, and then everything goes muzzy and dark.

2

FILLIAN

The warning siren blares suddenly, interrupting the stillness of the cabin, and I bare my teeth and glare at it. With a slap, I smack the button to shut off the piercing alarm.

“We got another one, Ramp,” I mutter, giving my partner a shake. It’s amazing to me that he can sleep through those damned alerts, but that’s a Gothelian for you.

---