Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Excerpt from Alien Deceptions by Regina Paul...
They were back! What did they want this time? She felt paralyzed as
ice water crept through her veins. Her muscles refused to
cooperate. She wanted to run, to hide, anything but this awful
feeling of being unable to move. No! No! Not again! I don't want to
go with you! As usual her wants weren't taken into account, and
the familiar process began to take place.
The blinding white light, common to these experiences,
spilled into the room from one window on the west wall. The
foot of her bed faced the opposing wall in an attempt to deter
her tormentors, in the hopes that she could deter them.
Wolf howled in the back yard, and his chain rattled in an
attempt to get to her. There would be no protection this night.
They found her again. No matter how many times she moved,
they found her. The recent move to Portland, Oregon was no
exception. For a year she felt safe. Now it didn't matter; it was all
Her body felt light and she levitated off the bed. The blood
stilled in her veins, her body growing stiffer. The sensation of
fight or flight took over, but she had no energy to follow through
A small scraping sound to her left, she turned her eyes, the
only thing she could move in that direction. The window opened
by itself. A blue beam with her torturers, tiny, hairless gray
beings with large black eyes flowed into the room. She shut her
eyes; she didn't want to see them. They removed her blankets,
and their hands guided her body.
Their grainy, leathery hands felt so cold she shivered involuntarily.
She hated it when they touched her. Caught in the
blue beam she looked up to see something she had hoped never
to see again. Her body floated out the open window and then
up, up, up toward the waiting craft.
Her back brushed the top of the cedar tree in her back yard.
She knew which tree because she could smell its calming scent.
Far below her, Wolf had ceased his howling, but she could still
hear his whimpers as though from far away. Tears that wouldn't
fall grew in the corners of her eyes. I should never have tied Wolf up
in the backyard. If she had kept him with her maybe she wouldn't
be about to suffer this again.
Unable to resist she opened her eyes just in time to see the
bottom of the craft open up before she floated inside. Terror
moved through her, making her previous fear seem as nothing.
What are they going to do this time? What tests will they perform?
Will they return me to my home, or will I disappear from Earth never
to be seen again? The not knowing what to expect was the worst.
The only thing certain with these experiences was it would be
extremely painful both psychologically and physically.
Everything else about the experiences depended on the
She opened her eyes and looked around. I must've blacked out
again. She wiggled her fingers and attempted to pick up her
hands, but found she couldn't. They had put her wrists in
restraints. She tried to lift one of her legs and found her ankles
restrained as well.
They removed my clothes again! It was one of the worst things
about the experiences. She had nothing, nothing. No way to
protect herself. No way to run. No way to escape. It always felt
the same, trapped like a rat in a maze with nowhere to hide.
Huge black tilted eyes that almost encompassed the entire
width of an overly large gray skull peered down at her. She
found she couldn't look away.
"Don't be afraid. We will not hurt you." An almost mechanical
voice touched her mind.
"Leave me alone! Let me go!"
"You are special. You are one of our chosen ones. Only you and
others like you can help save your planet," the voice continued as
though she wasn't trying to resist.
In some dim corner of Angel's mind she knew she had been
told this before. In fact they used telepathy as their main
communication at the beginning of an experience. They tried to
distract her from what they did. She remembered this from the
other times. They'd speak to her in her mind, telling her how
special she was and how what they were doing to her would
help them save her world. It was all lies. She knew what they
were doing, and she knew it was wrong.
She felt their leathery hands on her stomach. She tried to look
down, but the alien's black eyes wouldn't let her. A sharp
agonizing pain in her stomach below her navel told her they
performed a familiar procedure. They performed their
pregnancy test by inserting a large needle about a quarter inch
around into her ovaries to extract eggs. Why they called it a
pregnancy test, she had never been able to figure out.
Some small part of her mind grasped weakly at the idea;
there was something here she wasn't remembering, something
"You are feeling no pain, no pain." The alien's telepathic words
interrupted her thought processes.
"No pain, my ass!"
For some reason, her tormentors thought if they told her
there'd be no pain, it'd somehow miraculously disappear. What a
crock! She always felt the pain of their procedures.
The agony escalated to enormous proportions and Angel's
mind, in an effort to escape, blacked out. At least she always felt
this is what happened. She could never be sure if the pain or the
being, who kept her distracted, put the suggestion into her mind.
* * * *
When Angel Whitedove opened her eyes, it was starting
again. Her stomach hurt badly. She pulled her legs up and held
herself in a fetal position. They had returned. She groaned softly
and realized she couldn't run this time. She had nowhere to go.
They always found her in the end. It might take them a year or
so, but they always found her. Now that they had, she knew the
sleepless nights, the nightmares, and the silent horror would
start all over again.
Her mouth felt like the inside of an old shoe and tasted like one too. A wild
shiver moved through her. She looked down
and saw that she was naked. They hadn't bothered to redress her
this time. Carefully she sat up and examined her stomach. She
saw a small, red puncture wound just below her navel. It hadn't
just been a bad dream then. They had really found her again.
Angel reached up to brush long strands of dark hair away
from her face, and her hand came away with small sprigs of
cedar. She pulled the cedar from her hair and rose from the bed.
She looked around for her robe but couldn't find it. Her
tormentors must have decided to keep it for a souvenir. Taking a
deep breath to clear the cobwebs from her mind, she crossed to
her dresser and pulled a clean t-shirt and underwear out and put
them on. She knew from experience she needed to get out her
Polaroid camera and take a picture of the small puncture wound
on her stomach because it'd disappear by early afternoon.
Angel despondently wandered into the kitchen for a plastic
bag to put the cedar twigs in. She knew they weren't really proof
but like the puncture wound they were the only tangible
evidence that the visitors had found her yet again.
She felt like crying. What good would that do? As a child
when she had first begun to remember the horrible experiences
she'd cry for days after being taken, her father really the only
person able to console her. But her father was no longer with
her. She had no one to hold her and tell her everything would be
ok. Angel made sure of it. She allowed none close to her so no
one could be touched by the visitors as she had been. She didn't
want the responsibility.
The Polaroid camera positioned, her shirt lifted and the
panties lowered she took several pictures of the puncture mark
on her stomach. The journal lay open to a new page with the
date written at the top, and the bag of cedar taped to it. There
was room for at least one of the Polaroid pictures beneath it. The
other two pictures along with a few of the sprigs of cedar would
be placed in a safety deposit box at her bank along with a second
copy of the journal. She'd deposit the pages with the experience
along with them later in the day. She had learned one thing in
investigating this phenomenon, the visitors weren't above
stealing evidence. She always made sure she had two sets; one locked away safely
where they hopefully couldn't get to it.
Fortunately, they hadn't tampered with her coffee maker and
the required two hot cups waited for her just as she had set the
timer to do. Standing at the counter she looked out the window
at what promised to be another sunny but cool day. Spring in
Oregon could be incredibly fickle, boasting sunshine in the
morning and black roiling clouds filled with rain by afternoon.
Angel didn't mind though, she loved Oregon. She found it
worth all the rain to have the beautiful green everywhere. She
found the trees, the flowers, and the grass all so colorful this
time of year. I should never have left.
Angel stood on tiptoe to reach up and grab a mug out of the
cupboard above and to the left of her sink. She poured herself a
mug of caffeine fortification and added cream and sugar before
she turned and walked to the table to record the events of last
evening in what she privately called her "tormentor journal."
She needed to get it all down while it remained fresh in her
mind, at least what she could readily recall. Later she'd
transcribe her notes into her computer and take the printed
pages to be added to her typed version of the journal ensconced
in her safety deposit box at her local U.S. Bank. She could never
be too sure with the visitors.
Get your copy today!
(c) 2010 by Regina Paul. All Rights Reserved.