© S.B. 2023 All Rights Reserved.
Reproduction and distribution of this writing without the written permission of the author is prohibited. This writing is not to be included in any publication - free or otherwise -, with the exception of the author's self-published works.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.
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Dylan sat in front of a curved computer monitor, holding an imaginary cigarette in his right hand. It was a remnant of a time not long ago when he was addicted to nicotine, alcohol, and sleepless nights. Things had improved a lot since then, mostly because of the constant support of his girlfriend and soon-to-be fiancée Maria but, sometimes, he found himself longing for one more drag or a sip of a glass of whisky on the rocks. He had to stay strong, though. It was the only way to repay everything she had done for him until then.
He was looking at a series of complex equations and abstract diagrams that had come to him in a dream, trying to make sense of what they meant and their implications for the world. While he lacked any real proof of his claims, he was convinced he was on the verge of a breakthrough. He just needed to find the key to unlock it all.
Dylan continued to go through his research, hands resting on the keyboard, eyes beginning to water. He had been at it for a couple of hours and tiredness was starting to take hold. Still, he pressed on for at any moment he could have his "Eureka!" moment and uncover the truth.
The early-forties bearded man was so lost in his thoughts that he barely registered Maria's words when she asked,
"What are you doing?"
He glanced back to see her half-sitting in bed with an unamused expression on her pearly face and replied,
"Just checking my notes."
"Again?" Maria crossed her arms, "Babe, it's three in the morning. Come to bed, you need to sleep."
"In a minute, okay? I feel like I'm almost cracking this."
"That's what you always say. Your sketches aren't going anywhere. Get some rest and then look at them again with a clear head."
"But I..."
"I'm not asking," Maria tapped the mattress with her impatient nails. "Come. To. Bed."
The echo of her powerful voice reverberated in his weary ears. Maria was usually friendly and patient but when she wanted something done, she didn't hesitate to pull the dominant card and while Dylan wasn't a submissive man in the truest sense of the word, he still enjoyed being given some direction by a loving, assertive woman, and if that's how she wanted to play, then he would do his best to comply.
"Okay, you're right. I'm going to the bathroom real quick and then I'll join you," he said.
"Good. Don't take too long. I need to sleep, too."
Dylan turned off his PC and exited the bedroom. The bathroom was at the end of the hallway. Dylan stumbled inside to take a piss, washed his hands with lemon-scented liquid soap, and started walking back into the bedroom, struggling to keep his eyes open. He was already holding the door handle when the impossible happened.
A beam of light shot under the door frame, alternating between a soothing shade of blue and a sickening, pulsating green. Dylan opened the door to find it bathed in the same chromatic tones. The window next to his workstation was open, an unnatural wind running through it and throwing the stack of papers atop the desk into complete disarray. Hovering outside the window was the source of the mysterious light, a triangular-shaped spaceship with no visible engines or any other form of propulsion he couldn't identify. It stood there, defying gravity and reason as he stared at it, completely dumbfounded.
"Honey?" he muttered, his voice trembling. "Maria, are you seeing this?"
Maria didn't reply. He looked at her and saw her in an awkward position, one foot on the bed and the other touching the carpeted floor. She wasn't moving, a lifelike statue caught in an abrupt motion, her startled irises filled with the entrancing light.
"Maria?" he choked, his muscles tense. "What's wrong with you?"
Her skin was cold to the touch, almost as if she was frozen. He could still hear her heartbeat though, and a slow hum in the room in the place where the light shone the brightest.
"What are you? What do you want?" Dylan shouted to the otherworldly vessel as it remained motionless, a few meters away from the house.
There was no commotion outside, no people screaming, or cars getting wrecked on the streets. It was as if no one else was witnessing this strange phenomenon except him, which made an already impossible situation even worse. Struggling as hard as he could to maintain his composure, Dylan opened the first drawer of the nightstand on his side of the bed and reached for a wooden box where he kept a Sig Sauer P320 for self-defense only. He had never even fired the gun except on a shooting range. His aching fingers loaded the clip but just as he was about ready to aim the handgun at the unidentified flying object, he felt his grip loosen and a magnetic force impossible to resist yank it from his fingers. The pistol rotated haphazardly before his bewildered eyes and flew out the window disappearing into thin air before it touched the ship.
"Fuck!" Dylan vociferated, his legs trembling like jelly. He tried to grab Maria to get her outside the bedroom but she remained transfixed and glued to the bed. He couldn't get her to move no matter how hard he tried and so he dashed to the door on his own, looking for a way out of this living nightmare.
