fic: visitor
title: visitor
fandom: original
prompt: alien abduction
medium: fic
rating: pg - 13
warnings: abduction
summary: a girl is followed by a curious visitor.
At first, she had strange dreams.
She would wake up each night for weeks in a row just before dawn drenched in sweat, shaking with fear, yet never able to remember the dream again. Even though she could never remember the dream, she was certain it was the same one, over and over again. She didn’t take any precautions then, because what can one do to protect oneself from dreams save staying awake for the remainder of one’s life?
Instead, she got used to the dreams and went to bed earlier to make sure she got enough sleep to manage school.
Then came the strange flashes of light. Sometimes her vision would be flooded with white, leaving her blinded for several minutes. It could happen during any time of the day, but seldom when she was alone. Her father took her to the doctor after a month, claiming he was concerned for her wellbeing. For a while, she resisted. She knew instinctively that a doctor could do nothing about it, and told herself that it probably was some strange kind of stress-related migraine. After the visit to the doctor came to nothing, she took to taking several pills for headaches during stressful days as a precaution, which did nothing to relieve the blinding flashes of light.
Following came the sensation that she was being followed. No matter where she went, the feeling that someone was watching her lingered, and sometimes she would spot the same hooded figure, a boy maybe her own age, hanging around her school and the cafe she worked part-time at. She never saw his face, and he always wore the same gray hoodie drawn loosely across what she deemed was a fairly skinny body. As a result, she rarely went out after dark, and asked her friends or coworkers to drive her home had she seen the boy during the day. Once, she even called her dad to pick her up after falling asleep at her boyfriend’s house, which was led to an uncomfortable silence in the car to say the least, but a voice in the back of her head insisted precautions were necessary.
Lastly came the trap door.
Walking down the short stretch of pavement connecting her school and Alice’s Wondrous Tea House, she stepped into a seemingly normal crossroad as the light turned green. The ground does not vanish nor swallow her whole, she simply falls through, down further than she could have ever imagined the Earth could go. For a while, she screams, and cries, and tries to find something to hold on to, but eventually her energy runs out and there is nothing left to do but fall and breathe continuously, in and out.
When she is gently deposited on what could be the bottom of the world by an invisible hand, her skin is pale and her body light due to a lack of nutrition. Her vision is blurry and whatever is handling her limp body is gentle. The feel of soft fabric around her cold skin is welcome, and she almost falls asleep.
Something prods at her, and something is stuck into her skin, into her veins, but she has no fight left in her. Shaking and shivering, she allows herself to be poked with with small needles and inserted with tiny tubes.
Hours later, she finds herself fully awake and inexplicably tied to a strange-looking chair. Next to her is the boy who has been stalking her, yet it isn’t. There is something... not right with him. No matter how long she stares at his face, she cannot determine what. He has two eyes, a sharp nose and a thin mouth. His hair is brown, he has two hands and two feet. There appears to be nothing out of the ordinary. The constant hum of electricity racing through her body each time he accidentally touches her skin is different, and also very unpleasant.
He doesn’t talk much. He shows her what seems to be photographs he has taken when following her around. A dog running down the sidewalk. A door opening. A street lamp. Children playing on a run-down playground. A sickly-looking tree. An old newspaper in a puddle on the pavement. Nothing of value nor interest.
After showing her each photograph, he pulls forward the same little speech card that reads: What is this?
She attempts to explain each photograph. Sometimes he is satisfied with simple answers, like ”a tree”. Sometimes even answers like ”five-year old female dog called Apple, species Pomeranian” does not suffice. All she has come to learn is to not stop talking until he withdraws his speech card.
After she has seen every photograph he has to offer, which seems like more photographs than there are atoms in this world, she falls asleep.
The next morning she wakes up in her bed, remembering nothing.
fandom: original
prompt: alien abduction
medium: fic
rating: pg - 13
warnings: abduction
summary: a girl is followed by a curious visitor.
At first, she had strange dreams.
She would wake up each night for weeks in a row just before dawn drenched in sweat, shaking with fear, yet never able to remember the dream again. Even though she could never remember the dream, she was certain it was the same one, over and over again. She didn’t take any precautions then, because what can one do to protect oneself from dreams save staying awake for the remainder of one’s life?
Instead, she got used to the dreams and went to bed earlier to make sure she got enough sleep to manage school.
Then came the strange flashes of light. Sometimes her vision would be flooded with white, leaving her blinded for several minutes. It could happen during any time of the day, but seldom when she was alone. Her father took her to the doctor after a month, claiming he was concerned for her wellbeing. For a while, she resisted. She knew instinctively that a doctor could do nothing about it, and told herself that it probably was some strange kind of stress-related migraine. After the visit to the doctor came to nothing, she took to taking several pills for headaches during stressful days as a precaution, which did nothing to relieve the blinding flashes of light.
Following came the sensation that she was being followed. No matter where she went, the feeling that someone was watching her lingered, and sometimes she would spot the same hooded figure, a boy maybe her own age, hanging around her school and the cafe she worked part-time at. She never saw his face, and he always wore the same gray hoodie drawn loosely across what she deemed was a fairly skinny body. As a result, she rarely went out after dark, and asked her friends or coworkers to drive her home had she seen the boy during the day. Once, she even called her dad to pick her up after falling asleep at her boyfriend’s house, which was led to an uncomfortable silence in the car to say the least, but a voice in the back of her head insisted precautions were necessary.
Lastly came the trap door.
Walking down the short stretch of pavement connecting her school and Alice’s Wondrous Tea House, she stepped into a seemingly normal crossroad as the light turned green. The ground does not vanish nor swallow her whole, she simply falls through, down further than she could have ever imagined the Earth could go. For a while, she screams, and cries, and tries to find something to hold on to, but eventually her energy runs out and there is nothing left to do but fall and breathe continuously, in and out.
When she is gently deposited on what could be the bottom of the world by an invisible hand, her skin is pale and her body light due to a lack of nutrition. Her vision is blurry and whatever is handling her limp body is gentle. The feel of soft fabric around her cold skin is welcome, and she almost falls asleep.
Something prods at her, and something is stuck into her skin, into her veins, but she has no fight left in her. Shaking and shivering, she allows herself to be poked with with small needles and inserted with tiny tubes.
Hours later, she finds herself fully awake and inexplicably tied to a strange-looking chair. Next to her is the boy who has been stalking her, yet it isn’t. There is something... not right with him. No matter how long she stares at his face, she cannot determine what. He has two eyes, a sharp nose and a thin mouth. His hair is brown, he has two hands and two feet. There appears to be nothing out of the ordinary. The constant hum of electricity racing through her body each time he accidentally touches her skin is different, and also very unpleasant.
He doesn’t talk much. He shows her what seems to be photographs he has taken when following her around. A dog running down the sidewalk. A door opening. A street lamp. Children playing on a run-down playground. A sickly-looking tree. An old newspaper in a puddle on the pavement. Nothing of value nor interest.
After showing her each photograph, he pulls forward the same little speech card that reads: What is this?
She attempts to explain each photograph. Sometimes he is satisfied with simple answers, like ”a tree”. Sometimes even answers like ”five-year old female dog called Apple, species Pomeranian” does not suffice. All she has come to learn is to not stop talking until he withdraws his speech card.
After she has seen every photograph he has to offer, which seems like more photographs than there are atoms in this world, she falls asleep.
The next morning she wakes up in her bed, remembering nothing.