The Great Outdoors are conspiring to kill you

If I die tonight, you should know that the therapist did it. Shivering, I snapped the camera lens again. Another flat, dark image appeared on the screen.

"Seriously?" I grumbled at my fifth failed attempt at capturing the night sky. It was purple and blue and kind of beautiful in my eyes, and the camera kept showing me some stupid, flat, indigo expanse. Dead and boring, like my future.

I'm not even interested in photography; it's just the latest hobby my therapist has foisted on me to stave off a depressive spiral. I think the long-haired bastard just wants me to die, freezing to death in the Great Outdoors.

But I don't want this to be a complete waste, so I find myself raising the camera again. There's a bright light in the sky, and I squint at it, realizing it's getting bigger. Plane?

Wait, what the hell? I step back in horror, is this plane about to land on me? I don't even know where to go in this giant, empty field. The nearest trees are ridiculously far away, and my car even further.

So I just kind of stand there, resigning myself to the dumbest death imaginable. The light's getting closer and closer, and I can make out a vague, smooth shape behind it.

Then, suddenly, the light shook and started flaming. And speeding up, aiming downwards now.

"That's going to leave a mark," I muttered, kind of shuffling to the side. On closer inspection, the thing is definitely smaller than an aeroplane.

I crouch down into a fetal position right as the ground rocks with the impact. The sound is unimaginable, loud and somehow hot as the thing lands.

There's blood slipping out of my mouth, and I wince, slowly getting up. I really shouldn't, but I find myself walking over to it anyways, talking to myself nervously the whole way.

"There could be dead people or something, maybe they need 911, or help, or I don't know-" A quick glance at my signal-less mobile tells me that's not happening.

Steam and smoke is rising into the air, and the earth has literally exploded in one massive scorch mark. Amongst the carnage, there's a sleek, oval-ish object. With a smouldering dent interrupting it's smooth appearance on the side.

I'd like to believe I wasn't crazy, but I have no idea how to explain this without sounding insane.

Seamlessly, the top of the oval craft disintegrated away and I raised my eyebrows. Military tech? Alien? Shouldn't a team of top-secret scientists be here right now?

Something metallic and slimy seeped out of the top of the craft and I swore. That was disgusting.

"Okay, ew." I backed away automatically, away from the whirring, slippery metal goo that was moving around quickly.

It looked too alive to be an oil spill or something, and before I could take a picture of it or something, it changed colours and vanished into the grass.

I panicked, turning circles to find it. "Goddamn it, why me? Why did I have to lose the stupid alien-"

Something cold was on my ankle and I yelled, kicking wildly before falling over.

The goo was insanely heavy, looking and smelling just like grass as it crawled over me.

"Get off!" I shuddered as it got on my chin. "Oh ew! Come on!"

Suddenly it left and I scrambled backwards on my hands, staring as it slowly twisted and looked...

Exactly like me.

"What the hell?" I stared at it-me-whatever. "That's messed up."

"Greetings." The clone of me, down to grass-stained sneakers said, smiling.

"You're obviously an alien, right? Who are you? Uh, where are you from?" I have no idea why I'm yelling at it now like it's hard of hearing instead of extraterrestrial.

It frowns and starts yelling back. "I am from another solar system! I am a scout, sent ahead to investigate this planet!"

"Okay, stop yelling!" I shouted back, and then growled, shaking my head. "Sorry, that's my bad. How do you speak English?"

"During my orbit of this suitable planet, I have been recording and interpreting your languages. You have many, and I have learned the top three widely spoken means of communication on your planet." The alien replies, smiling again. The action of staring at me, without being me, is too creepy to explain.

"Why do you look like me?" I demand, crossing my arms.

It watches me and crosses its arms too.

"Stop that!" I uncross my arms, disturbed.

"Body language is one method of communication between hominids such as yourself. I am trying to acquaint myself with you. I look like you, because I am you. All scouts possess the variability needed to become the dominant life form on exploration worlds." The alien explains and I glare at it.

"Why are you here?" I asked. "To kill us all?"

The alien frowns, staring at me.

"Hello?" I ask, waving a hand.

"Hello." It replies.

"Answer my question!" I dragged a hand through my hair. This murderous weirdo could totally annihilate us, I'd seen enough movies to know that much. I just needed to distract it until the military rolled up or something. "Why did you land here?"

"I wasn't going to, but some space debris hit my craft and forced me to make an emergency landing. See?" The alien pointed at the dent.

"But why are you here?" I insist, discreetly looking around to spot the military planes or whatever. I barely have enough energy to roll out of bed most days, and I'm very impressed with this slimy alien's ability to travel space. To probably kill us.

The fake me shrugs. "I have no directive. Simply to gather information."

"Is your planet dying?" I ask slowly, trying to weasel out the info this thing has no problem sharing.

"You don't know the Cxtneri system?" The creature asks and I frown at the strangeness of its name.

"No? Maybe some other humans do." I shrug.

"We live on planets. And nothing is dying, that is a human trait. In any case, planets cannot die." All business-like.

"No, I mean, are you running out of resources?" This is giving me purpose, I realize, shocked. Who knew the arrival of something out of this world would make me more interested in it.

It's a strange feeling, motivation, caring when you haven't for months, maybe years. I cling to it, expectantly waiting for the alien's response.

"I'm not sure. I am currently many, many lightyears away. Things may have changed drastically from my initial deployment."

I'm getting the feeling I'm being talked down to, and appreciate it. I have no idea what's happening.

"Have they given you any orders? Your boss?" I question, unnerved by how much the thing is mimicking me.

"To remain hidden and not to communicate with humans." The alien looks sorry and I grimace.

Gesturing at the wrecked spacecraft, I laugh. "So that's not happening. Someone's going to see this."

"I can fix it, and return to orbit. Have you recorded any measurements or digital images of my spacecraft?" It asks and I look down at the camera strapped to my neck.

"Nope." I grin suddenly and snap a picture of it. "Relax, people will think it's just a picture of me."

"May I see it?" The alien looks startled and I show it the image. "It's me."

"Actually, me," I argue, shrugging. "So...you're always going to look like me?"

"Yes, unfortunately, I've bonded too much to your form." The alien hums, still staring at the image of it.

"So after you repair the spacecraft and somehow fix the ground." I kick at some thrown dirt. "What, you're going to mind-wipe me?

The alien shakes its head, clearly confused.

"Wipe my memories? Remove my brain?"

"I have no ability to wipe memories. The human brain is one of the most complex biological systems, and I myself, understand very little." The alien sighs and I nod, letting that explanation sink in.

"However, I will be taking your brain."

"Excuse me, what?" I ask, and gasp when I feel my own hands around my throat. Clawing and kicking, I try and pry its hands off.

My eyes, my hair and features stare down at me, scrunched in concentration.

My vision's getting dark, shuttered and my lungs are screaming. They're on fire. My fingers gouge a scratch under the alien's eye, on its neck.

I feel dizzy. There's an awful ringing and the last thing I see is my blood dripping down on me. And that beautiful night sky.