Invader by Trace
Collaborative: A.d. Maddox
The light. Just easing over the edge
The light. Just easing over the edge of the window sill and pouring down, into the room, like a waterfall, moments before the flash flood engulfs the entire river bed.
The photon missile sent from the exploding orb, 93 million — and some-odd-change-miles — out in space, slammed into my over-used, alcohol abused, ocular orb, otherwise known as my left eye… with barbaric insensitivity.
One moment, bliss-filled comfort: it was dark: OFF. The next nanosecond it was ON! Bright! Fusing vision and pain in one gigantic, violent movement to get away. But I, did not move. It was only my mind perceiving the desire to movement, not the sensation of noted neurological response. It was far too early, into a recovering Sunday morning, after a most unfortunate liquid-driven, sleep-deprived, Saturday night. Despite the neurons records of firing, the only loads going off — were blanks.
Nothing was getting through.
Then the orbiting ball of nuclear fission, out there in deep space, decided to ramp up the wager. The clouds of favorable diffusion decided to part, just enough to allow for an Orwellian blast of trauma, piercing the geothermal crack in the ocular orb’s covering. Sending a searing column of excited photons screaming across the cornea to plunge head-long into the depths of the retinal zone. The result was an explosion of pain that shot through both ocular orbs, blowing both coverings open.
Now I was, wide … well, OK. Blindly lying there with one eye; barely open.
It was then that I saw it.
Looming, not a foot away from my left eyeball. A gigantic alien form. Growing with each second that ticked off the atomic clock. Its outer shield of armor expanding upon the march of the photon beam of nuclear fissile energy. Marching across the table. Heading straight for my eye. And I could not move. I was still immobilized by the self-induced comatic remedy sent to us from the far away shores of Brigadoon. I was helpless! I was going to have my eye impaled by a senseless, heartless, brain-devouring alien monster. I had to do something.
Sweat began to form on my upper lip. I began to chill. My heart raced; so much so that it began to thump in my ears like an old John Deer tractor. Increasing with each second’s passing, I just knew it would Alien right out of my chest. Landing on the floor to forever Tell Tale Heart my demise to the world.
The world tilted toward disaster as the alien invader crept, ever closer, toward my delicate and unprotected eye.
It had eyes, too. Big ones. They were bright. Shiny. Heartless. Soulless. Orbs of evil reflection. Reflection of its evil intentions. Nothing inside. Stealing the brief point of reflection – that which it encountered – into a fauchard of raped reality. It looked upon me as nothing more than a piece of meat on its way to domination. I meant nothing to this soulless creature from deep space.
How did it get here? Where did it come from? What the heck is it, anyway??
As the sun continued to rise, the alien’s pace quickened. Closer. Closer. Closer, it marched. A river of sweat was now pouring down my back, across my brow, over my lip and onto the pillow. Mingling with the pool of pillowed nocturnal spittle deposition. Oh, I was a sitting-duck. Ripe for the picking, plucking, mucking. What a dupe. If I could only move. I’d get my gun and blast it straight to Hell! But I can’t! Hell! I don’t even know if I am really awake!
I am a pathetic mess.
Then suddenly there was a warm, fetid, yet cold, and definitely wet sensation exploding all over my face. I can no longer see the alien. It must have blasted me with some sort of chemical bomb. It’s blinding me with some concoction of alien toxins… well in advance of its final pounce!
I am Doomed!
“Max! Max! MAX!!!! Get off the bed and stop licking A.d.’s face. You know she doesn’t like that. C’mon. Let’s go get you a walk in. I’m sure you need to get ‘outside’ to ‘green-up-the-grass!”
“Hey A.d., time to get up. You’ve got paintings to get done. And you really need to stop leaving those flies all over the house. One of those things could end up in bed with you. I bet that thing would put your eye out! That would be all you need. C’mon! Get up! Before that fly on the side table gets you.”
Ahhh.. So that’s your angle. Alien mind-control! You beguiling evil alien beast! Make me think you’re harmless. OK! You crafty creature of doom. I may still be paralyzed by alcohol-induced neuron-impairment, but you will NEVER succeed. I will NEVER give in.
This is WAARRRRRRRR!!!!!
REFERENCE: A.D. Maddox Studios – http://www.admaddox.com/
Written by Arthur O’fieldstream | Image by A.D. Maddox