The Abduction Chronicles
by Charles C. Cole
People who have been abducted by space aliens try to come to terms with their situation and with each other.
Gina: This doesn’t feel right. Where are they?
Herald: Bothering someone else. What’s your name?
Gina: I’d rather not.
Herald: Come on. We’re on the same side, the human side. Fine: today you’re Eve.
Gina: No, that’s too creepy, like I’m the first of my kind, some alien-assembled lookalike.
Herald: That is creepy. I don’t know why I chose that name, I swear. But if you’re a fake human, they did a really good job.
Gina: I don’t know how to respond to that.
Herald: How long have you been awake?
Gina: I don’t know. Not long. Why?
Herald: I just wondered if you watched them do things to me.
Gina: There was nothing to see; we were alone.
Herald: You look familiar. Have we met before?
Gina: I don’t think so.
Herald: Maybe not in the “real” world, just here, like we’re a “couple” to them who they always experiment on together.
Gina: Why would you think that?
Herald: It makes sense. I don’t remember being allowed to talk to someone before, another person I mean. Do you think this is on purpose, an experiment to see what we do?
Gina: They’re not that clever. Always digging around inside us like they lost a contact in there.
Herald: Maybe their anesthesia wore off. Or we have an increased tolerance to the process they use to put us under because they’ve done it so many times before.
Gina: That would mean we’ve been abducted more than I ever imagined. Not a happy thought. I don’t know. I don’t trust them.
Herald: Me either. But it’s nice to not have to go through this by myself this time.
Gina: It doesn’t matter; we won’t remember in the morning.
Herald: Maybe we will, if we concentrate. I’ve been reading about lucid dreaming. It’s all about awareness, retaining a sense of self, and noticing details, like the unusual color of your eyes.
Gina: This is not a dream. Would you like me to pinch you?
Herald: Because if it was a dream, you’d probably be a little nicer to me.
Gina: Sorry. I don’t mean to be cold, but this is so different from the other times I remember.
Herald: You can remember other times?
Gina: Only when I’m here in this room, not when I’m in the real world.
Herald: Good for you. If you can, I guess I can too but, honestly, what bits I recall make it pretty obvious that I don’t want to remember anything more. No, thank you. I hate this place.
Gina: Call me Gina.
Herald: I’m Herald. I’d tell you my last name, but I can’t think of it right now. Isn’t that funny? Maybe it’s the reverse of what you said. Maybe it’s a temporary side effect of whatever it is they do to us. The real world is so far away when we’re here that it’s almost dreamlike, at least for me.
Gina: Makes me want to go back to sleep, go back to “dreamland.”
Herald: Do you think you’re married or have kids? I don’t see a ring. Maybe I’m married. That would be cool.
Gina: I don’t think so.
Herald: No? Wait: you or me?
Gina: Either. I don’t want to think about it. I mean, if I’m married, and I don’t think I am, then I’d feel sad and angry that my husband could sleep right through the aliens taking me out of our bed and not realize I’m gone and then doubt me when I try to explain where I’ve been.
Herald: I’ve got a crazy idea. What if they’re using us to make better humans, with immunity to cancer and nuclear radiation and aging and stuff? What if we’re special?
Gina: That’s the weirdest pickup line I’ve ever heard. I don’t believe it, sorry.
Herald: Let’s get out of here. Do you want to get out of here?
Gina: And go where? We don’t even know where “here” is. We could be miles from home or in space or in some other dimension, though that’s pretty far-fetched.
Herald: So’s being abducted by aliens.
Gina: I always thought people who claimed to have been abducted were just looking for attention. I don’t need that kind of attention.
Herald: When are they coming back?
Gina: Oh god, I think there’s something moving inside me! I think they put something in me!
Herald: That’s your imagination. Maybe you’re looking for attention after all.
Gina: Feel for yourself. Oh god!
Herald: Is it theirs or ours, do you think?
Gina: What do you think? It hurts! Whatever it is, it has sharp edges. I don’t think it likes it in there. It’s mad and it wants out.
Herald: Should I call for help?
Gina: From them? Not from them! They’re the ones who put it there. I’d rather die.
Herald: I don’t think they want us to die. They wouldn’t keep playing with us over and over if they just wanted to kill us. They know what they’re doing. They know exactly what they’re doing.
Gina: Herald, you wanted to run. I think you should. I want someone to know what happened to me.
Herald: You sure?
Gina: I think it’s going to get pretty ugly in a minute.
Herald: I can’t go.
Gina: Why not?
Herald: I can’t tell the world what happened to you: I don’t even know your last name. What’s your last name?
Gina: (Losing it.) They took it! They took my last name. It hurts! I know alien spawn when I feel it. This is not going to end well!
Herald: What do I do?
Gina: Hold me.
Herald: You sure?
Gina: And, Herald...
Herald: I’m here.
Gina: If it doesn’t look human, if it has big eyes and gray skin, promise me, don’t let it live!
Copyright © 2012 by Charles C. Cole