Author's Note: This is volume 2 of my story, Aliens on Holiday. It can be read separately from volume 1.
Volume 3 will eventually come out, where the main characters from volume 1 and 2 meet up. It must be mentioned that I don't plan to write v3 for a few years.
I hope you enjoy my crazy in the moment writing with all of the strange ideas.
Feel free to request a chapter written with an adventure, either for volume 1, or volume 2.
Thank you for reading.
Prologue
Streaks of light streams by, accompanied by the stillness of the big and empty void.
I can see Earth up ahead,
the one says to the other.
Ever-changing colours of light showers past as they hurtle onwards towards the Milky Way Galaxy.
Yes. I can see it now. Was hidden behind the Andromeda Galaxy for a second. That reminds me, we still need to stop over there to see if they have progressed since our last visit.
Having seen Earth has me eager. Our friends in Andromeda can wait.
Silence. There is always a silence between worlds. No sound to occupy oneself, not that this bothered either of them. It comforts them knowing they are travelling - exploring the universe.
Have you found your Keuse yet?
There is a deep, dark coldness surrounding them. Their only company is each other and their thoughts to one another.
Yes. I have just spotted her.
Andromeda looms to their right. Shining silent lights towards the corners of the universe, as if in rejoice.
You have chosen a female. That makes my choice easier.
A cold, uneventful moment passed as they leave Andromeda behind, its colour shifting more towards red.
I found my Keuse. He will definitely be a challenge. I may need to hide myself from him.
A 'challenge', you say?
Yes.
The Milky Way, now a short distance away, glows faintly in anticipation - or so it seems to them.
Time to slow down.
A brief pause. Then, just outside Earth's solar system,
Prepare the backup. I will contact Home.
It is done. Does this mean we will really give full access to them?
Unless you want to add any specific rules, then yes.
No. Other than the BasRu in place, I want to see what happens.
It is time.
The silence changed into noise as they enter Earth's atmosphere, each going their own way.
Chapter 1 - Bad Luck
The evening was cold, a biting wind rushing down the streets and into the alley. A man was huddled behind a dumpster, his patchy coat pulled tight. His eyes were closed, but the grimace on his face grew with every gush of the wind.
Growling, clearly his stomach demanding food; it could be heard by the homeless sleeping down-wind from him. He could handle the hunger, he was used to it, but starving in this cold was too much for him.
He shifted his weight, trying to find a warmer spot, but to no avail. With a grunt, Flin stood up, pulling his coat tighter, and limped down the alley in hope of finding a place out of the cold.
It is extremely unusual for it to be this cold during summer, so most of the homeless have not prepared to fight the cold. Flin was one of them. He felt bad luck followed him his whole life, the most recent of which landed him homeless, disgraced, and hungry.
He walked lopsided, an injury from youth. He blamed that on bad luck, as much as everything else. His coat barely hid the bite of the wind, especially at his sides where there are more holes than cloth.
Terrible wails could be heard where the wind escaped the alley ahead of him. The hunger gnawed at him, demanding attention as if it did not care if the rest of the body was cold. His hunger grew and grew, wanting energy to burn to make heat - maybe there would be enough left to make fat for insulation.
This cold night is a bad omen. A reminder that my bad luck has not run out.
He shook his head and noticed he had walked farther than he planned, the howling alley behind him and on the other side of the street. Shrugging his coat over his ears, he walked down the street.
No matter where he went, Flin found no warmth. He passed five teenagers returning from partying and they gave him a wide berth, eyeing with what seemed to be disgust mixed with pity. He looked at their fine clothes and cussed, maybe too loudly. They quickened their step, silently trying to go their own way.
His awkward walk, somewhat like how a zombie would walk, added to his look. He was not an ugly man - he could be considered handsome if luck favoured him - but he hasn't shaved in months, let alone bathed. His clothes reeked of the dead, which is probably from the rotting rat he found in it when he discovered the coat.
His eyes were pale blue, dulled thanks to the hardship of his life. His hair was brown, with a hint of maroon when the light hit it just right. As far as complexion went, he could not remember what he looked like under the dirt. He was taller than average, though his limp made him seem less than he is. He has managed to find enough to eat to remain in somewhat decent shape. Of late, though, some of the muscles he used to have have started being eaten away by his own body during the days he went without food.
He reached a junction in the road and, by the looks of it in the moonlight, there is a ditch on the other side. Hoping some of his bad luck forgot about him, he slowly made his way to the ditch. There were no cars as he crossed the road and he was thankful. A sudden weariness took him and, without warning, a blinding light surrounded him. Before he could cry in alarm, his mind went blank and he fell into the ditch.
The night grew even colder and snow started falling, an infinite number of unique flakes fell and covered the town. People not indoors ran for home, those who thought to stay out and play soon decided it was not worth it.
But the night grew still. The wind died and the snow had ceased falling, but the townsmen knew there was change coming.
Chapter 2 - Sunday Roast
Flin awoke with a start and sat up, spilling the blankets that covered him. Looking around with quick darts, he saw he was in a room, a small room, but a room. The plastered walls were smooth and clean, with little swirling lines in light blue over the cream background.
The contents of the room were sparse, but of high quality. In the opposite corner from where his double bed stood, was a simple and elegant desk. A small shelf was nailed to the wall above the desk, on which stood a few books of different topics. Tucked under the desk was a wooden stool made from the same high quality wood as the desk, just as elegant, and varnished with an even layer of some glossy substance. Next to the bed was a small desk of drawers, a lamp with a smooth wooden base on top, and a jug of water. Adjacent to the small desk was a big, beautiful wardrobe.
When his eyes came back to his bed, he noticed even the frame was made of the same wood, just as wonderfully made. The sheets and the duvet bespoke of wealth and the furniture in the room suggested specially made. It all had a purpose and it all was made to accomplish that purpose in beauty.
The window on the opposite wall from him, next to the desk,
shwooo'd
softly and his skin prickled. He inspected himself and, for the first time, realised he was naked. More importantly, he was clean - cleaner than he had been in a long, long time. He was still hungry, but not as hungry as before...
before what? What happened to me?
He got out of bed and stood up. He put one leg forward - his bad leg - then tripped himself and fell with a thump on the carpet.
What the bloody hell?!
he thought as he pushed himself back up to stand.
He looked down, lifted his bad leg, then his right leg. Confusion flashed on his face, followed by a quick jump. He landed with a
thump
. He looked around, disbelieving, then focussed on taking a step.
One step, then two, then three. Everything felt off balance, but it felt right. He was walking normally - the first time since he was six years old. He walked in circles a few times, then decided to find out where he was and what happened to him.
He grabbed the bedsheet, threw it across his shoulders and wrapped it around his waist. It took him 5 long, even steps to reach the door. Even the door handle was made of wood, two thin bevels running the circumference of it. Twisting, he pulled the door inwards, then stepped out into a hallway. Opposite was another door, well made and wooden. To his left was a dead end, so he turned right and found stairs leading down, curving to the left
