My Big Green Alien Orc

1. Fay

1

FAY

The mother of all hangovers drummed against my temples. I sat up, only for nausea to make my stomach vault. I pressed my lips together, fighting the urge to vomit. I’d clearly drunk too much last night, even though I couldn’t remember going out. I groaned and tried to recall how I got into this state. I’d gone for a walk in the dark, trying to clear my head after a long day at work. Then, nothing.

Had I met a friend and gone partying? Unlikely, but if my headache was anything to go by, it must have been a long, alcohol-fuelled night. I’d not had one of those in years. Now I was going to have to pay the price.

I fumbled for the nightlight, but my fingers only met cold metal. I froze. My little cat-shaped light was on the bedside table to my right; it always was. There shouldn’t be anything metal there. Come to think of it, I didn’t see the usual dim glow of the streetlight coming through my curtains either. I liked to sleep in the dark, but even my blackout curtains couldn’t dispel all the light from that blasted lamp. I’d written to the council about it many times.

I felt around me, touching the duvet, which turned out to be just a silky blanket, not the thick lambswool duvet I usually slept under.

I wasn’t in my bed. I wasn’t home.

Maybe a friend’s place. Had to be. I’d had too much to drink and crashed at theirs. Or had I gone home with a guy? Unlikely. Those days were long gone. I’d not been with a man in so long that I might as well call myself a virgin again. Dry spell? Sahara Desert, more like it.

I needed light. Where was my phone? Not in my pockets. I was still wearing jeans and a shapeless merino wool jumper. Not exactly party clothes. And no phone. I’d had a shoulder bag; I remembered putting my keys in it as well as a box of biscuits (one should never leave the house without snacks).

It was no good. I’d have to feel my way around and hope I wouldn’t stumble over things or step on used condoms. Although the fact that I was still wearing jeans spoke against that theory.

As a first surprise, the floor was much closer than I expected. I wasn’t on a bed, just on a mattress surrounded by a steel frame to keep it in place.

I walked slowly, arms extended. Two steps, three, four. My hands hit a cold wall. Colder than it should have been. It was smooth and glossy. Marble, maybe.

I felt my way along the wall, around a corner, then another. No shelves, no windows, no doors, just smooth stone.

My n***d toes bumped against something hard. I sucked in a sharp breath as pain shot through my foot and up my leg. Ouch. I bent down to feel for whatever was in the way. A square cube, maybe two feet high and wide, with a hole in the centre. Some sort of container?

I reached into the hole. My fingers broke through cold water. Not just cold, icy, almost frozen. A shiver ran down my back, and I quickly pulled back. Weird.

I still had no light nor a door. Maybe it was time to find out whose room this was.

“Hello?” I called out. The stone walls swallowed my voice, absorbing the sound. I’d once been in an anechoic chamber at a science museum. It was so quiet that my heartbeat and breathing were the only sound. This was similar. Not quite as intense, but now that I focused on it, yes, I thought I could hear my elevated heartbeat. Who had a semi-anechoic chamber at home?

I shrugged off the anxiety breaking through my barriers. This was strange, but not scary. I’d dealt with worse situations. Much, much worse. That time when I came under fire in Afghanistan. Without my military escort, I may not have survived.

This was nothing. Just a strange room and a hangover.

I was a tough cookie. At least, I had been until I took a desk job to lick my wounds and pretend to be normal. Now, the old Fay had to make an appearance.

"Hello!" I yelled, but once again, the sound of my voice was absorbed by the walls. I doubted anyone outside the room would have even heard a whisper. A shiver ran down my back, and it wasn’t because of the cold.

I continued my exploration. By the time I almost stumbled over the mattress, it was getting harder to stay optimistic. No door. No windows. This wasn’t the room of some guy I'd picked up in a club.

This was a prison cell.

In darkness, time passes strangely.

I wore a watch, but it was an old-fashioned one without a backlight. Not a fancy fitness tracker. Now I wished I’d splashed out on one. I missed my phone terribly. Nomophobia was real. I was always on my phone. Always texting, always scrolling through the news, always checking my emails. I’d not been without a phone in my hand since… well, when had smartphones been invented?

I tried to sleep to pass the time, but that quickly turned out to be impossible. I wasn’t tired, my head hurt and anxious thoughts drifted through my mind. There was no way I could sleep like that.

To occupy myself, I walked around the room, exploring the walls with my hands. I reached up as high as I could, then tried the opposite and explored the lower part of the walls while kneeling. No door. No opening at all.

The ceiling could have been just out of reach or five metres above me. I had no way to know. There had to be a ceiling, though, otherwise I’d see light or feel a draught.

I hated not knowing where I was. I hated not knowing what time it was. And most of all, I hated the theories popping into my head.

Abducted by terrorists. It wouldn’t be the first time. But there had been no communication. No demands. No t*****e.

A psychological experiment run by the government. Unlikely.

A dream. Or a coma. This could all be just in my mind.

Again, unlikely. It felt real. My toes still throbbed from when I bumped against the stone cube.

Aliens.

I snorted at that thought. Sure, why not. It would be the scoop of the century. I’d either get every journalism prize there was, or end up sectioned. I grinned as I imagined the headline.

Interview with an Extraterrestrial.

No, I didn’t believe in aliens, at least not in the little green men variety. Microbes surviving on distant planets, sure. But sentient beings? No way. They would have contacted - or obliterated - Earth long ago. We would have noticed. Or would have been noticed, considering how many satellites now circled our planet. We made a lot of noise for a species that had barely reached its own moon.

I returned to the bed and wrapped my arms around my knees. I didn’t like showing weakness, but right now, I was alone. No one could see me.

Or could they? There could be night vision cameras attached to the ceiling. I tensed and glared into the darkness, just in case.

“If this is some sort of joke, I’m going to make sure to destroy you,” I said. My voice was a little hoarse, but it helped make me sound more threatening. “I’m going to ruin your reputation. I’m going to spread every nasty rumour I can think of. I’ve dealt with worse people than you. Trust me, you don’t scare me. You should be scared of me.”

It made me feel a little better. I doubt anyone was listening to me, but still, it was good to show strength.

“Weakness is for pussies.” Dan’s voice rang in my head. “You might have one, but you aren't one.”

He used to say that all the time. I couldn’t help but smile at the memory. He’d been the toughest man I’d ever met. If he hadn’t got himself blown to pieces, I may have considered moving in with him.

Dan. Such a waste. My smile wavered. It had been three years, but it still hurt.

The floor shook. An earthquake. f**k. I was trapped in this room and I couldn’t get to a safe space outside. If the ceiling collapsed, I was toast. There wasn’t even a table to seek shelter under.

I rushed to the closest wall and pressed against it. Except that the wall moved as soon as I touched it, sliding upwards. Light burst into the room from underneath, so bright I had to squeeze my eyes shut. The floor continued to shake violently. I sank to my knees while trying to peek through the gap where the walls used to be.

Were the walls being lifted or was the floor sinking? Either way, I was no longer trapped. If only the light wasn’t so bright. I still couldn’t see anything.

Maybe that was on purpose. Someone didn’t want me to look beyond my strange prison cell.

I struggled to my feet. The shaking wasn’t getting any less, but I had to see what was going on. This might be my only chance to escape. Who knew when the walls were going to come down again. Or the floor back up. By now, it almost felt as if both the walls were going up and the floor was moving down at the same time. I was disoriented, and the glaring light wasn’t making it any better.

Bright spotlights or something similar were directed at me from all sides. After being kept in the dark, I should have been grateful for the light, but I wasn’t. It was just as bad. At least I could finally see the inside of the room, even though the glaring light was blinding me, making it hard to take in the details. The silky blanket on the bed reflected the light, shimmering silver with a tint of blue. Not how I’d pictured it at all. The cube I’d bumped my toes on was exactly the same metallic silver, although the liquid inside was bright green. It looked like nothing I’d ever seen. Something you’d find in the cauldron of a witch, maybe. Some strange piece of art?

“KAWUUM BARUUM DI KALUUMBU.”

A voice boomed from all around me, so loud I instinctively covered my ears. The language was not one I recognised, and it was loud, so b****y loud. Together with the blinding light, my senses were being overwhelmed so much that it hurt.

“KSUUBU AU BARUM FAY MACHALIN. KAWUUM.”

I ripped my hands off my ears when I heard my name. Fay MacLean. Booming Voice was talking about me. They knew me.

Without warning, a searing heat erupted all over my body. I screamed in pain, but it was over in less than a second. Cool air touched my skin, soothing the burn.

I looked down at myself and wanted to scream all over again.

My clothes had disappeared and I was now entirely n***d.