Monster King (Royal Aliens 5)

I grab the florbington, and I grab the zsstzsst stick from the other side of the room. I don’t think those are their actual names, but it doesn’t really matter at this point. All that matters is I know what they do. The florbington produces a kind of gas. Makes me feel sleepy, but I’m pretty sure it’s hella flammable. The zsstzsst stick has a little probe at the end which emits a spark. They use it for stimulating muscles or something, I don’t know. I’ve watched the doctor weld scythkin back together with it when they came in wounded.

“NO!”

I look at him with my completely mad, very human smile and I say the only word that matters.

“Yes.”

KA-FUCKING-BOOM.

That is the sound of everything exploding.

I am hurled backward against what I considered to be the most padded part of the wall. None of the walls are actually padded, but this part at least didn’t have sharp bits, and most of the force of the explosion goes the other way. The captain is hurled in the other direction, and he wasn’t expecting it, so he isn’t braced for impact. Every sharp feature on his body, every harsh ridge and serrated blade expands at once and effectively sticks him to the wall by a hundred different points of impact.

I race out of the sick bay through the door that doesn’t work, my florbington and zsstzsst stick at the ready. That was a little too much gas on the first explosion. My head is ringing and something might be broken, but that’s not a problem.

Alarms are ringing, and I can hear scythkin running about, but this is a relatively large ship and I am able to stay out of their way by pressing myself into various nooks and crannies as they rush by.

“LOOSE HUMAN ON THE SHIP! CONTAIN THE HUMAN!”

It’s funny to hear this crew of horrifying beasts freaking the hell out because I am running free on their vessel. This must be how mice feel when people panic. Sort of scared, but also flattered.

I round a corner, slip through a door left open by a panicked scythkin looking for me, and see…

Holy shit.

I see people hanging from hooks. Well, not people. More like people skins with all the skull and bones and guts taken out. I want to be sick, but I don’t have the opportunity to be vulnerable that way right now. I have to hold it together and find a way off this fucking nightmare ship.

“There you are!”

Zenith has freed himself from the wall and come after me and actually found me, surprisingly enough. I guess that’s why they pay him the big bucks and how he came to be the captain.

"What the actual fuck!?” I point at the suits. “You’ve been skinning people!?” The best form of defense is a vigorous, vociferous attack, at least in my experience.

Zenith stands over me, and I don’t expect him to answer me. I expect him to beat the shit out of me for almost killing him with an explosive detonation. Of course, I still have my weaponry at hand. I almost forgot. My brain really isn’t quite back online.

“These aren’t people,” he explains. These are suits we can wear which make us look human if we should encounter any.”

“I’m a human. But you didn’t wear these suits for me.”

“You had already seen our true form. This is for humans who have not experienced alien contact and who can still be shielded from the harsh realities of the universe.”

“So I don’t get shielded from the harsh realities. Typical.”

“You have been shielded from plenty. You have been rescued against all odds.”

“Yeah, and now I’m escaping against all odds. I will blow this ship the fuck up if you don’t get me a shuttle and let me go.”

“Even if I were to let you take a shuttle, you wouldn’t get very far. We could simply put a lock on the shuttle and drag you through space between us.”

“That’s my problem. Your problem is me not blowing the hell out of this ship.”

“That tool will run out of gas eventually, and you are somewhat at risk of blowing off your own hands. But I’m sure that won’t dissuade you. You are in a state of extreme distress.”

He’s so fucking calm and I kind of hate it. I want him to be as frightened of me as I am of him. I want him to bend to my will. I got used to having a badge on Earth, a shiny piece of metal that allowed me to make others obey me. I have nothing now, except the alien equivalent of a lighter and a can of deodorant. But sometimes, that’s enough. Especially when I know he’s not allowed to actually hurt me.

I’ve done standoffs before. I’m usually on the other side of them, but I know what tactics work, and which don’t. I gotta stand my ground. I can’t allow myself to be dissuaded. And I need to make this happen relatively quickly, before they can regroup and organize.