they came from the vat

They were fed up. This was the second fight this week. Though there were more injuries as opposed to casualties this time. Collateral damage would never be forgivable. At least not in this town.

This time it was one of them who lost someone close to them. He had been sitting in an unlocked cell looking into the void of spent emotion for awhile now. There would be no point in locking the door even if they new why he was there to begin with. They had seen him rip a car apart with his own bare hands.

He was an Adonis, those who were not out protesting for whatever course of action they wanted, were out there swooning over him, beyond that he was identical to your average person except for the fact that he was without a belly button, or organs in proper placements for that matter. Mind you they judged this masculinity on him not having a resemblance of any kind of chest, so to speak of. He might be missing other things as well. Come to think of it there was an aura of androgyny to him that was becoming more apparent.

He, it, whatever you want to call him, it, was not responsive to any type of communication for awhile now. They had a reckless negotiator from the city, who was dispersing the crowd outside the building, as he continued to be looking into the void. He was going to give it a go see what he can get out of it. They were not expecting great things, but why not.

A man came to town a while ago asking if they had seen any new faces around town. If so they were to be reported to him eminently. He told them under any circumstance do not interact with them and get in touch with him immediately. That is exactly what they did last time but to no avail; he never came. They tried it again the second time and it was just as fruitless as the first.

After awhile the police had finally got the protesters and gawkers to disperse without the picketers rioting. john was a negotiator from the city. After a botched attempt at negotiating with some terrorists in which 5 hostages lost their lives and him, his career. After which. his relationship with the town, had soured to the point where, he had to leave.

So he came to this not so quaint little town. Where aliens got into fights almost on a regular basis. He found out later however that this was not actually a regular thing in fact they only showed up hours before he on the same day, even; just his luck.

john decided he would talk to the alien. He walked into the cell were they alien was being held, well from what he had heard held captive but that was not exactly applicable. More like taking up residence. He could see what all that swooning was all about. He came in, leaving the door open, and sat down opposite him.“how long have you been here” the alien asked. Everyone was a little unnerved he/it had been silent for hours, well silent really isn't the half of it more like comatose.

“since my daughter died” he replied like he was talking about the weather.

“what is this”, “how did i get here.” how do-”

john stopped him in mid sentence “don't panic you'll make it out of here.”

“but you never did.”

“i lost my daughter.” he said as if he was just reminding himself.

He could see its sadness trying to resuscitate itself, it wanted to understand

“you don't know what that is do you?”

“why did you come here?”

“everyone looked so miserable” you could hear the shallow wheeze of his emotions.

“i thought this was where all the miserable people went.”

in the darkness far from the light he smiled “this is a zoo.”

a long pause “you don't know what that is do you?”

“no”

“doesn't matter”

* * *

After some convincing, the alien concluded, with some help, that maybe helping clean up the destruction he wrought would help ease his guilty unconscious. He did not know what that was either. Abruptly [friendly name] excused himself leaving the [thing] alone. Before it could get into a panic, an old shrivelled up little person grabbed his hand.

“He means well but in his heart of hearts he is happier there.” she said sadly

“He died when his daughter did.” he said sympathetically “you offered him your hand but he chose to stay?” he quarried “why?” “his heart still blames himself for all of it.”

As they walked around a crowd gathered around them. What a second ago a few mean spirited to words, into a mob, sling words and all manor of things. They managed to separate him and the old crone so she wouldn't be hurt. It was well into the night when the last of the mob passed out from exhaustion. The two of them keeping, a good distance from each other, as best they could, climbed over the bodies of overly aggressive rioters, now as sound asleep as babies in their cribs.

“Why didn't you fight back, you could have easily taken them.”

he continued “What is wrong with you!?

“they could have been someone's daughter.”

there was a long pause

[friendly name] looked towards the crone his voice shaking as he spoke.

“i, i, i-” tears began to burn his eyes. “i want to go home.” “I want to see my daughter.”

* * *

They had a proper hearing. Seeing as he has been shown capable of remorse, possessing understanding of the value of life, and his behaviour has been exemplary since he realized, in his own words, how squishy humans were. That and they had no idea how to kill him even if they wanted to. They decided on community service. There was little he could do without breaking something. So they used him as a labourer.

* * *

A week had passed and his counter part came looking for him. They raised the alarm bell that had not been used since the last war to signal his return. He stopped him at the edge of the town.

“i think we’re playing that game wrong.” his friend said

“game?” he asked

“the game where we run and hide.”

“oh”, “i'm playing a new game now.” he proudly stated

“what is it called?” intrigued his fellow alien asked

“community service” “do you want to play?”

he thought for a minute. “yes.”