Alien Beast

He’s been here before, perhaps waiting for me. Searching for me. Bringing others down here to interrogate.

I stumble back, spine dragging across the wall, so hard I break the skin. I attempt to move away from the glow of the full moon outside, but when his body covers its splendorous luminescence, I wish to get that light back again.

Next to me is a cage. I see bones inside.

“Still think this place isn’t real?” he asks, palm twisting around my bicep.

“You aren’t listening to reason,” I cry.

It appears a voice of reason has not been installed into his software.

He growls and grabs my neck, teasing his fingers against my windpipe. “Cognitive dissonance. The human brain will go through impressive efforts to justify its conclusions,” he says. “Get inside the cage.”

He doesn’t give me a choice. He tosses me inside, once again shrouded by the alien’s strong, masculine, terrifying body. I balance on my kneecaps, in pain, but not entirely debilitated.

He shuts the door and chuckles.

“You know, you look kind of cute under the glow of Earth’s moon,” he says, grinning sadistically.

“Is this really Elon’s plan to initiate a love storyline?” I ask aloud.

I didn’t come here to die, nor did I come here for love. I arrived at Arnoi Industries to witness my cousin’s code, a complex simulation exercise come to life. Of course, that feels like a lifetime ago, and this isn’t as simple as I expected.

I’m used to working with technology, but not on such a wide scale.

The alien towers over my cage, muscles rippling like corrugated metal. His cock is hard and demanding, throbbing with desire I can’t pair with my fear. No – cheesy programmed dialogue doesn’t trump the sight of his impeccable body. I just wish he’d use it to protect me, rather than hurt me.

“For many lifetimes, I have kept my eyes and ears open. There is no rhyme or reason to the chaos of the known world,” he says.

He kneels, hands sliding through the rusted bars to brush against my cheek. “But you are perfect. A real specimen I can mate,” he growls. “Your chaos, it appears, is manageable.”

As much as his speech patterns terrify me, I can’t help but notice how sincerely stuck to his character roll he is, despite carrying signs of some real cognitive breakthrough. No matter how deep I peer into his eyes, he does not appear to see through the lie behind our meeting. To him, I’m as real as this world.

I’m afraid I will let him down.

Of course, all of this begs me to ask the question, is it wrong to fuck a cyborg alien? How much of these experiences do they store inside their processing units until they are fully cognizant? Well, Elon sure didn’t think these questions through when he designed this place.

Morality is absent inside the simulation. Here, you can do anything you want, be anyone you want to be. I was thrown in here without signing a contract. Thrown in here before I knew what this place was or could be.

There is no morality or justice here, only deviant pleasure and abject pain. This alien must believe in his storyline because he needs it to grow. He’s working this out as best he can.

I hope…

I should be more anxious than I am, and a part of me is frozen with disbelief. But I’m also intrigued. I am shocked and awed by the impeccable strength and cunning he possesses.

So, I obey him, and he keeps me inside his created dungeon, the place Elon made to start our narrative.

I have sacrificed myself to the simulation. I am the apple Adam eats to end the old world. I am his, machine’s true glory.

I glance down at my arm and wince when I see the outline of purple. The wound is getting worse with every hour that passes. “Elon, what have you done to me?” I whisper.

“Who is Elon? You have mentioned the name many times,” the alien says.

“A friend,” I lie. “Someone I left behind.”

He huffs, nostrils wide like black caves. “You weren’t sent by the Xebulon. You lied to me,” he says.

I swallow, throat painfully swollen. Lungs aching, I drift against the back of the cage. “How’d you know?” I ask.