Beasts and Betrayal

“What did you just say?” I asked uneasily. 

“We’re not alone, I can feel it,” he whispered back eerily as if trying to get me to look around. 

I frowned in response, “What makes you say that? We’re all the way out here at my grandpa’s cabin. No way someone followed us all the way out here! Unless my little brother jumped in the back of the truck…” 

He frowned, angry I disagreed or didn’t believe him, “Dude, I’m telling you. I can feel their presence.”

“Fine! Fine! I’ll go grab a flashlight then we can look around the outside. And lock all the gates, okay? We’re fine,” I tried to reassure but came off more irritated than anything, I’m sure. I frowned as I went to go look for the flashlight, digging through the old junk drawer where I was sure it was left last time I was here, “It’s here somewhere, I promise!”

He didn’t reply for a moment before sighing, “They're getting closer.”

“If I knew you’d be a creep, I wouldn’t have invited you,” I grumbled, getting the flashlight and cringing at the lack of power left, “Okay, come on let’s make this quick!”

He nods, following behind me and mumbling about their presence. I tried to resist the urge to roll my eyes at the frankly superstitious moment. 

“Okay, so where did this even come from?” I asked quietly, careful not to alert any animals we were out and about. 

He looked at me, surprised I even asked, “I just have a gut feeling. And my gut is always, always right.”

I put my hands up in defense at the slightly defensive response, and then snorted, “Sure, dude. I haven’t seen you like this since our college days. Are you watching too many ghost story documentaries again?”

He frowns, “I thought you believed me.”

“I do!” I exclaim, a tad annoyed, “Just wondering if it could be the work of an overactive imagination…? Hopefully?”

He hums, “Maybe.”

The rest of the walk is peaceful, but now I couldn’t shake the feeling we were being followed. He continued to hum on our walk, looking back and forth nervously as if we were being followed. Maybe we were, I could feel it too now. But, I couldn’t tell him that. What if we were? I couldn’t make my friend’s clear paranoia and anxiety skyrocket anymore now could I? I felt sick. 

“Do you hear it now?”

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

My heart dropped. There it was. What he sensed, what I heard, and now it was upon us. 

“If we avoid eye contact, it might let us live,” he whispered carefully, “Let me speak to it.”

“It?” I whispered back, “How do you know it’s an ‘it’?”

“I may have… altered the truth a tad. I knew where we were going. I’ve been here before. And this is not the first time I’ve met this creature. We’ve been meeting for years now, and I needed someone to meet it, so I can be free,” he admitted, and just like that, decades of friendship were flushed down the drain with a single admission. It was not that he’d lured me here, to my grandfather’s home as a trick, but that he’d brought me here as bait and lied to me. Lied to his childhood best friend? How could he? Perhaps the situation is much deeper than it seems, but I think this might be something much more dark and horrorsome than it seems. I take a gulp. 

“Why.”

It’s not a question, it’s a demand. I need to know why. 

“I discovered him a couple of years ago, conveniently after they announced the discovery of aliens-”

“Are you saying he’s, or- it’s, an alien?!”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying,” he whispers, eyes looking down, “And I-”

“So then you were lying. About it not being an alien, just some weird stalker thing that’s become your problem, which you are now dumping on me, for some reason!” I exclaimed angrily, no longer thinking straight, and no longer thinking about the looming creature standing behind my friend. It was large, its shoulders reaching at least a foot or a foot and a half in width, honestly, I’d describe him as a linebacker. It had glowing eyes, red glowing eyes, with a blank face. Something I wasn’t quite used to with humans. For the most part, we’re an expressive bunch. Although, perhaps aliens being unexpressive explains why some “humans” aren’t quite as expressive. Perhaps they’re aliens who came before the “discovered” ones. Aliens, hypothetically, must be eons more advanced than humans. With how quickly we’ve advanced, those with, again hypothetically, larger brains, more natural, innate abilities that we don’t have any knowledge of. Perhaps that’s telepathy or even empathy. Maybe it’s the ability to be kind. Maybe. I fear for my life, however, as I stare back into those red eyes. Before my friend vanishes, like this is my problem now.  I flinch in a panic, looking for my friend. There can’t be a reasonable explanation for this, not now, not with this kind of information. I take a deep breath, glancing behind the beast, and am disappointed to see his figure getting smaller and smaller in the background, like a faraway echo. It stings. But, if I’m to survive this alien, apparently, encounter I must remain calm and collect. I must…

I must tame the beast. I’m frightened. 

“Hello?” I ask tentatively, and on high alert, I hold myself tall, ready for whatever comes next. 

Yet, unlike the movies, unlike the books, the horror films, it simply tilts its head and responds, “You’re new.”

There is a thick accent from which I’ve never heard of, which obviously this is an alien we’re talking about, but it’s alluring and makes my stomach drop- not like the anxiety stone, but like a swarm of butterflies infecting my stomach, filling it to the brim with a sort of soft, kinder feeling. And that’s definitely not a feeling I should feel around an alien, something- someone(?) in which I know nothing. Not their culture, their customs, their… anything really. 

But isn’t this just the perfect chance to learn? I found myself thinking excitedly if my friend won’t learn, I will! 

“Yes, my friend left me here with minimal knowledge to uh… who or what you are?”

It hummed, “Yes, that’s why I chose it as my host in the beginning,” it nodded sagely like they knew this was coming. Curiously, it also referred to us as “it”. It must be a conscious being’s impulse to label what it doesn’t understand, curious. 

“Ah, secrecy, quite a unique trait here on Earth,” I joked nervously, and wondered again how on Earth I ended up in such a predicament? This was truly something interesting. I swallowed my urge to sprint far, far away. 

“You are fearful,” it comments, “I can sense fear, just like in the movies.”

I stifle a laugh, “You’re familiar with human art?”

“He introduced me,” they hummed once, “But truly, do not fear. I have no intention of harm, simply to learn.”

“Oh! That I can help with, I’ve actually recently finished getting my doctorate in creative writing, something thankfully my parents supported me in, and-”

Boom! 

The crash of thunder was overwhelming in the previous serenity of the night. I took a deep breath before looking upward, “Rain.”

“Perhaps we return to the cabin for the night?” it asked gently, and a peculiar notice was that its accent remained, but it continued to match my grammar more and more as if it were trying to appease my anxiety by mirroring my mannerisms. I nod in return and then start to run back to the cabin, which was embarrassingly enough not that far away. We returned back to the cabin and decided to rest up for the night, laying down and I wondered how safe it was to be resting in the house with an alien. But, the alien apparently had not lied thus far, so what would a little curiosity hurt? Definitely just the cat. 

Hopefully.