A Trip of No Return
A Trip of No Return
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoWJDhSBVYw * You can listen to the audio narration of the story on my YTube channel *
Mister Jones was a 50 year old man. He was the owner of a supermarket in a small village. He was short, fat, and bald. With a big Stalin-like moustache, few things in life made Mister Jones happy, the most important one would be alcoholic beverages, specially red wine.
His wife had been locked up, not in jail, but in a mental institute. Gone mad, after so many years of putting up with Mister Jones’ nasty temperament. Pure negativity. Like small drops of annoying rain, but, in this case, it never stopped.
The Jones couple had two sons. Neither of them spoke to their father ever again, after they finally reached adulthood and left the house. Besides what happened to their mother, the two boys also suffered verbal and physical consequences.
In all honesty, Mister Jones couldn’t care less about these mundane things. Human feelings. He was even proud of such rejections, saying so, in the cheap bar where he got drunk, most days of the week. Or better said, most nights.
Once a month, Mister Jones would also visit the local brothel. A place in which men would escape from their boring lives and wives. And in which even Police officers had discounts, in exchange for their “hear nothing, say nothing”, policy.
In any case, unlike most customers, so to speak, Mister Jones was quite sadistic regarding his sexual fantasies. Since Mister Jones, often times, suffered from impotence, he would fight such frustration and humilliaton Patrick Bateman style. With a Jones’ personal twist. The middle aged drunk would take empty bottles or empty cans of his favourite alcoholic beverages. And well, I guess you can guess what he would do with them, plus, the girls. But the fact is, Mister Jones had lots of money, due to his successful supermarket, and without family or pets to support, being a man of simple tastes, he could afford paying the prostitutes a lot more for them to endure such experiences.
Mister Jones lived alone, so, he would also have dinner at the bar where he also drank. The food was actually quite good. Mister Jones enjoyed starting conversations with the intent of provoking people. Any kind of subject, from Sports to Politics or Religion. The classics. He just wanted to see everyone getting angry and nervous. He thrived on that. And since Jones was the bar’s most faithful customer, the bar’s owner didn’t dare to intervene, or to ban such unbearable man.
And so, this was the simple life of this man. Lonely, rotten, nasty, not able to be happy. But capturing a small illusion of pleasure, when he was able to, even just for a few moments, to make OTHERS unhappy or miserable.
One night, Mister Jones was walking back home, the way he could, since he was drunk. Talking by himself and cursing the world as usual. He was complaining mostly about the lack of public lamps in the village. But suddenly he realized that one of those lamps was spreading quite a strong light. Too strong. And it was becoming bigger. And closer…
Mister Jones only later on realized that the source of the light was a UFO, an alien spacecraft. And that light captured Mister Jones like a fisherman catches his fish.
This was the best way for the terrified man to snap out of his drunkness. He was now inside a very simple room: It was nothing more than an empty room, whose walls and surroundings were made of metal.
The poor bastard was frozen in fear, and he lost any idea of time.
But eventually, his situation changed, and Jones arrived. Somewhere…
One of the Metal Panels of the room was opened, and a humanoid figure, whose features were concealed by a greyish blue suit, which covered the alien creature entirely, entered.
Mister Jones soon realized that the alien entity was far from being friendly, as it sent a chain, made of pure energy, in the direction of the human being. The chain, which seemed to have a life of its own, immobilized Jones, just like a serpent would. But with an additional ordeal: One of the chains’ extremities was now inside the head of the helpless earthling, who screamed in agonizing pain. Then, Jones realized that he lost control of his body. And his body was now moving itself, independently from Jones’ will. Obviously, the man’s body was being controlled by the alien. Jones’ body simply followed the alien being, like a puppy.
They were now outside the spaceship. And inside a gigantic laboratory. Filled with devices and machines, of course.
Dozens of other alien beings, all wearing the same kind of protective suit were there. They were all operating the different technological devices. Like busy little bees.
Mister Jones was no longer in control of his body, but he could still cry. And that’s what he did. He also pissed himself.
His body was now entering the inside of a glass capsule, shaped like a giant egg.
The capsule was now closed, with Jones inside. He regained control of his body. He looked around, to the outside, and he saw other similar capsules. With different and bizarre beings inside. Some appeared to be intelligent and self-aware, others no. Some were alive, others were either dead, or in a slumber.
Mister Jones knew, he felt, that he was going to be the subject of some kind of experience. And it would not be a pleasant one.
Outside, the aliens were now taking off what would be the protective part of their heads. Let’s call it the helmets. And so, they revealed themselves.
Jones screamed in fear. The aliens had long, curly, white hair. But their skin was from a strange collection of colours. From light green to dark brown. They had small mouths, with small pointy teeth. With a long reptilian tongue. The eyes were huge and yellow. And they had no noses.
One of the aliens was watching a small portable monitor, which he held. But this, he was doing with one of his eyes only. With the other, he - or she - was observing Mister Jones, and also the remaining aliens. His colleagues. It was if the Alien creature had two different brains operating at the same time.
The Aliens were producing speech, talking between themselves. But Jones couldn’t hear it, inside the glass capsule. Even if he could, he would not understand, of course.
In any case, the earthling would have something more to occupy his brain. Suddenly, the capsule was now being filled with water. Very cold water. And then, through a small entrance, something entered the capsule. Now Mister Jones was no longer alone inside his nightmarish glass egg.
It was a water creature. Shaped like an eel, but quite beautiful, and with a friendly appearance, particulary its eyes. The creature was now swimming around Mister Jones, as if checking him out.
And Mister Jones realized that, like the aliens outside, this entity was no friend.
The creature started ripping the man’s clothes apart, first slowy, then in a more decisive manner.
The hopeless human being couldn’t even scream, when the creature started to bit Jones, chewing him like the piece of meat that he was.
Normally, this would result in his death.
But no.
Something eles was now inside the capsule. A couple of bionic tentacles, like mechanical arms attached themselves to the head of Mister Jones. And in his head, he felt energy being pumped into him. Into his head and brain at least.
Because the rest of his body was being completely devoured and consumed by the space eel.
The water was never too bloody, because it was being constantly renewed.
Jones could not see anymore. But he could still think, hear and feel.
What Mister Jones didn’t know is that he was captured by a group of space hunters. Specialized in hunting different species, to sell them as souvenirs.
Mister Jones’ head was now being kept alive by a battery. He was now a pitiful cybernetic organism. His head would be sold as a curiosity to other intelligent aliens. They could use his head for everything. Decoration, tool, toy, a support. Whatever.
And the sadistic pleasure consisted, precisely, in the Aliens knowing that such item was sentient, and was self-aware. Trapped in perpetual existential, ignorant pain.
It was just a matter of changing his battery every 100 years...
