Taken
The autumn wind was brutal tonight, cutting right through my favorite oversized flannel shirt and making me shiver as I huddled over the tripod-mounted telescope in the middle of the clearing. I took a slow sip of my black coffee cold now, tasting like bitter charcoal and chased it down with a handful of stale cheddar crackers from the crinkled bag in flannel pocket.
With my free hand, I absentmindedly twisted the heavy silver locket hanging against my collarbone, my thumb tracing the familiar, worn edges over and over. It was my go-to nervous tick whenever the isolation of the woods got to me, or when the data on my star-charts wasn't adding up.
Tonight, nothing was adding up.
I wiped a stray lock of my red hair out of my face, leaning back down to press my eye against the rubber eyecup. I was miles away from the main campus, set up on a jagged ridge where the light pollution couldn't ruin my view. I had been scanning the northern horizon for hours, hunting for a suspected shift in the stellar drift. Just a quiet, solitary stakeout with only the rustling pines and the crunch of autumn leaves for company.
Then, right near the edge of the Perseus constellation, a tiny point of light flickered.
I blinked, pulling back for a second to clean the lens with the hem of my shirt, then jammed my eye back to the glass. Stars didn't stutter. They didn't pulse in a jagged, uneven rhythm, and they definitely didn't drift sideways against the rotational pull of the earth.
My breath caught in my throat, my thumb freezing mid-spin on my necklace.
The pinprick of light flared, swallowing the surrounding stars in a sudden, silent burst of blinding violet. The ambient forest sounds the crickets, the wind in the branches died instantly, swallowed by an unnatural, crushing pressure that made my ears pop.
Before I could even stumble back from the tripod, the air above the clearing sheared open. A silent, immense shadow eclipsed the moon, plunging the ridge into absolute darkness. The wind didn't just blow; it slammed down like a physical wall, ripping the coffee cup from my grip and scattering my crackers into the dark ripping from my flannel. My hair flew back.
I fell hard onto my back, scrambling away through the dirt and dead leaves as a sleek, metallic behemoth silently uncloaked above the trees. The landing gear hissed against the earth, kicking up a gale of dust, and the main hatch slid open with a heavy, ominous thud.
The "star" had landed. And the figure stepping down the ramp was tall, imposing, and entirely, terrifyingly non-human.
Panic seized my chest, hot and sharp, overriding every logical thought in my brain.
I scrambled backward on my hands and knees, dirt and pine needles tearing at my palms, my eyes locked on the figure descending the ramp. From a distance, the silhouette almost looked human broad-shouldered, tall, and bipedal. But the illusion completely shattered the second it stepped fully into the dim ambient light of the ship.
It was easily seven feet tall, clad in sleek, dark armor that seemed to absorb the starlight rather than reflect it. It had hair thick, dark strands that fell past its shoulders, catching the pale moonlight with an eerie, wet-looking sheen, almost like polished obsidian. As it moved, I caught terrifying glimpses of other non-human features: its skin wasn't any normal human tone, but a deep, bruised violet-grey that shifted subtly under the ambient light. And then there were the eyes vertical, slitted pupils that glowed like a cat's in the dark, fixing onto me with an unnerving, predatory intensity.
Run.
My brain finally caught up to my survival instinct. I scrambled to my feet, abandoning the telescope, my coffee, and my scattered crackers in the dirt. I bolted straight toward the dense wall of pine trees lining the ridge.
Twigs snapped beneath my boots, and the low-hanging branches whipped violently across my face as I plunged headfirst into the pitch-black woods. Every instinct screamed that I was prey, and whatever had just stepped out of that ship wasn't going to let me go.
I tore through the underbrush, my lungs burning as I gulped in the freezing autumn air. Pine branches slashed wildly at my face and arms, tearing through the thin fabric of my oversized flannel shirt and drawing sharp, stinging lines across my skin. A thick, stubborn twig caught dead in my hair, pulling painfully at the roots, but I didn't dare stop to untangle it. Every instinct screamed that it was right behind me.
Then, a voice cut through the rustling wind and the pounding of my own blood. It wasn't the guttural roar of a wild animal, nor was it some distorted mechanical screech.
It was smooth, resonant, and entirely too close.
"Little star," the voice called out. The English was unnervingly precise, spoken with a rhythmic, alien cadence that vibrated right through the damp earth and straight into my spine. "You cannot outrun the orbit."
Panic clawed at my throat. I pushed harder, my boots slipping on a patch of wet moss. I veered hard to the left, aiming for a dense cluster of birch trees, desperate for any shred of cover. The sharp edge of a broken branch sliced deep into my side, and I bit down hard on my lip to keep from screaming, tasting the sharp, metallic tang of blood.
Footsteps crunched behind me heavy, impossibly fast, and entirely unbothered by the thick brush that sliced into my skin. The space between us wasn't widening. It was closing.
Hot tears stung my raw cheeks, blurring the dark silhouettes of the trees into jagged, terrifying shapes. My breath came in ragged, painful gasps that burned my throat, but I forced my legs to pump faster, ignoring the fiery agony radiating from the deep scratches on my arms and legs.
Zigzag.
Survival instinct overrode blind panic. I threw my weight hard to the right, cutting sharply around a massive, moss-covered oak trunk, then violently veered left through a dense patch of briars. The thorns tore mercilessly at my clothes and scraped against my ribs, but I kept moving, hoping to break his line of sight.
"Fascinating," the smooth, chillingly calm voice echoed again, sounding entirely too close not behind me anymore, but cutting across the clearing to my left. "Such frantic motion."
I risked a panicked glance over my shoulder and nearly tripped. He wasn't even running. He was effortlessly gliding through the dense undergrowth, his towering, seven-foot frame moving with a fluid, predatory grace that completely defied the tangled terrain. His dark, wet-sheened hair caught the faint moonlight, and those glowing, cat-like eyes locked onto my panicked trajectory with terrifying ease.
My foot caught on a hidden root. I went down hard, the breath exploding from my lungs as I slammed into the damp earth, dropping flat into a patch of ferns.
The impact knocked the remaining wind straight out of me. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my face into the cold dirt and damp ferns, trying to make myself as small as possible. Every inch of my body throbbed my scraped arms and face, the stinging gash on my side, and the tangled mess of hair yanked tight by a stubborn branch.
For a terrifying second, the forest went dead silent. No footsteps. No crunching twigs. Just the ragged, shaky sound of my own breathing echoing in my ears.
Then, a massive shadow fell over me, blotting out what little moonlight managed to pierce the canopy.
A large, cool hand closed firmly around the back of my flannel shirt, gathering the fabric and the tangled hair all in one merciless grip. Before I could even twist away or scream, I was effortlessly hoisted off the ground, my boots dangling uselessly in the air as he straightened to his full, towering height.
"Found you," he murmured, the low, rich cadence vibrating right against my back.
My fingers flew up in a blind panic, clawing frantically at his massive wrist. His skin felt cool like polished stone kissed by a winter night and his dark, bruised violet-grey arms corded with lean, impossible muscle. As he turned me around to face him, the heavy silver locket I always wore caught on the edge of his sleek armor with a sharp clink, snapping the chain clean off.
I gasped, my breath hitching as those luminous, cat-like eyes locked onto mine from just inches away, pupils narrowing into absolute, unyielding possession.
"My necklace," I choked out, my voice cracking raw and desperate as my fingers clawed helplessly at the air where the silver locket had just been. "Please—give it back."
He didn't move, holding me suspended effortlessly in the air with one hand while his towering, seven-foot frame loomed over me. His dark, bruised violet-grey chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, entirely unaffected by the chase. In his massive, cool palm, the broken silver locket looked impossibly small, catching the pale moonlight.
His cat-like eyes flicked down to the piece of metal, tilting his head with a slow, predatory curiosity. A heavy strand of his wet-sheened obsidian hair fell forward, brushing against my cheek like a cold silk thread.
"A trivial piece of trinketry," he murmured, his voice a rich, resonant purr that vibrated through my chest. "Why weep for metal when you have just been claimed by the stars?"
"It's mine," I sobbed, fresh tears spilling over my lashes as I stared longingly at the silver chain dangling between his fingers. My hands trembled, hovering just inches from his wrist, too terrified to touch him again, yet desperate to snatch it back. "Please... just let me have it."
The vertical slits in his luminous eyes narrowed, studying the raw terror and defiance warring on my face. Instead of handing it back, his fingers slowly curled around the locket, tucking it away into the dark, seamless plating of his armor near his heart.
"Consider it collateral," he replied softly, a dangerous edge of amusement curling the corners of his sharp, non-human mouth. "A token for our journey home."
"No," I choked out, a fresh wave of panic ripping the word from my chest as I violently shook my head. "No home. My home is here. Please, just let me go... and give me my necklace."
My hands curled into useless fists against his chest, pressing futilely against the unyielding, cool armor that felt like solid steel. The sheer height difference made me feel entirely weightless in his grip, suspended like a trapped insect in the middle of a dark, suffocating forest.
His luminous, cat-like eyes stared down at me, completely unmoved by the desperate tremor in my voice. The vertical slits in his irises dilated slightly in the dim light, studying the frantic tear tracks cutting through the dirt on my face, the blood welling from the scratches on my arms and face, and the wild, stubborn defiance burning in my gaze.
"There is nothing left for you down here," he replied, his rich, resonant voice cutting right through my pleas with terrifying finality. "Your orbit has shifted, little star. Resistance is merely a waste of breath."
Before I could scream, before I could kick out or try to claw my way back down to the earth, a sudden, low hum vibrated through the air. The heavy metal plating of his armor shifted, and a thick, unnatural mist began to roll across the forest floor from the clearing, wrapping tightly around my ankles.
My vision swam, the shadows of the trees twisting and blurring into a dizzying streak of violet and black as the ground silently vanished beneath my feet.
