Crab Theory (12/16/18)

 

UNKNOWN STATE, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, SECTOR 1500

 

On a bright spring morning, Lina Doe found herself walking to school, trying to tape her arm back together from where it had fallen apart at the elbow. She mentally cursed her father’s idiotic designs; what could have possibly possessed him to make him change the one design that had actually worked well? The fool.

 

I CAN HEAR YOU, YOU KNOW, her father, John Doe, thought to her.

 

OH, I KNOW, she thought back, perfectly content with him hearing her griping. It wasn’t as though it was anything new; she had been complaining about the skinsuits from the moment she was first forced to put one on. In her professional opinion, however, she couldn’t be blamed. It was rather awful, being squished up into the form of a human when she was so used to letting it all hang out.

 

Up ahead of her, she could see other people rapidly approaching. As quickly as possible, she stuffed her arm back into her jacket, hoping that its bulkiness would disguise the rather broken shape of her arm and the mucus slowly dripping down it. Upon passing them, she could see that they were her incredibly nosy neighbors- or perhaps it wasn’t that they were nosy, but that her family was just incredibly suspicious to the average human. After all, the average human didn’t have 100 children, or come from a planet other than Earth, or become a toddler-sized slug when they peeled off their skin.

 

Such strange creatures, these humans. Even after having lived on Earth for six months, she still didn’t understand how they could live without telepathy, or in such constrained forms.

 

She pushed the thought away. For the moment, she just had to focus on getting through the school day. It wasn’t that the people were awful, or that they knew about what she was, or anything of that sort, although having to keep the secret constantly did make a difference. Instead, it was the fact that she was falling apart at the seams, literally. That would put a damper on anyone’s day, really, but even more so on Lina’s, when it would be a clear sign to everyone around her that she was an illegal alien in every sense.

 

DAD, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BRING US HERE, OF ALL PLACES? she asked him, yet again as she kept walking. Half a year of being on Earth and she still didn’t quite understand his reasoning.

 

WE’VE TALKED ABOUT THIS, LINA. THE MILKY WAY IS THE SAFEST PLACE FOR US TO BE - NO ONE WOULD SUSPECT THAT I MOVED OUR ENTIRE FAMILY HERE, thought her father. NOW HURRY AND GET TO SCHOOL, CHILD. YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE.

 

Lina heaved a sigh, feeling every bit the dramatic and angsty teenager that her grandmother had once accused her of being, and started running, feet splayed out and arms flailing, all the way to school.

-

To her surprise, Lina was not actually late. Perhaps it was the fact that she was taking advantage of being able to move far more quickly than normal for her, or perhaps it was just her having a panic-fueled adrenaline rush. She wasn’t entirely sure, and thought to experiment with it a little more before casting the thought aside, fixing the most human bits of her personality to the surface of her mind, and walking into class.

 

One never knew when they would come across a fellow telepath, after all.

 

Sitting down at her desk, Lina surveyed the classroom. There, in the corner were two girls whose names she still did not know, so she had been mentally calling them ‘Sharp-Teeth’ and ‘Almost-Eyestalks,’ respectively. Their incessant gossiping was certainly interesting, and had helped Lina learn about real human culture very quickly, but she could not stand it for too long, as their racing thoughts and constant references to things that she had no real understanding of grew tiring very quickly. In the beginning, she had thought they were the perfect embodiment of “crab theory” - the theory named after the fearsome species a few planets over from her home that, due to their infighting and jealousy of each other, would drag each other down so much so that they eventually were on the losing side of the war. However, after one conversation, she came to the conclusion that these girls were entirely too...benign.

 

No, the ones who embodied crab theory were in the opposite corner - it was a group composed of all different types of people from all walks of life, with different ideals and different opinions. It seemed to her that they encompassed all the different sectors of modern American society while still being only one group in one school in a medium-sized town. While they all presumably got along, to Lina there always seemed to be an undercurrent of tension, almost as though everyone was holding everyone else at arm’s length, yet they were still willing to drag everyone else down with them if they happened to fall.

 

And somehow, she had found herself in their midst. On her first day at this school, the group’s leader? unifier? commander? (Lina wasn’t entirely sure), Janice, had swooped down on her and adopted her, introducing her to the group’s other members as the ‘newest recruit.’

 

(When Lina had tried to protest that she hadn’t been recruited into anything, Janice had simply waved her off, saying that she was part of them now. She wasn’t quite sure how to take that.)

 

It was odd, being in such a group of friends, if they could even be called that. If she one day got to know them better, and wasn’t stoned for being an illegal alien in the next few months, maybe she would ask them all how they got to that point.

 

The moment it seemed that one of them was about to glance up from the deep discussion the group was having, Lina looked away, avoiding eye contact, and prayed to the One Slug God, Slugathor, that she wouldn’t have to speak to anyone this early in the morning, when she was liable to let something important slip if anyone questioned her. Of course, it seemed that her relationship with the One Slug God, Slugathor, who must be mentioned with his full title at all times, was as awful as ever, because in the next moment, someone did speak to her, though not in the way she expected.

 

WELL, WELL. BET YOU’RE SURPRISED TO SEE ME HERE, RIGHT? DID I SURPRISE YOU?

 

NO SHIT, Lina replied while trying to keep the shock off of her face and turning around slowly. I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. GUESS IT DIDN’T STICK. MAYBE I’LL CHANGE THAT AFTER SCHOOL...

slug novel excerpt (9/23/18)

 It was a fact that every slug-person was in want of a good, working skinsuit, yet those were something that no one could find.

 

It was an even bigger problem when said dysfunctional skinsuit started malfunctioning in public, in the middle of a day out with friends.

 

Lina looked down at the crack that had just opened up above her belly that was starting to leak mucus- it oozed, clear-ish and thick, down her “skin” and started wetting her shirt. She prayed to the One Slug God, Slugathor, that no one had noticed yet.

 

Evidently, the One Slug God, Slugathor, hated her, because when she glanced around quickly, she saw all of her friends absorbed in conversation, except for one - David, who was staring down at her with a look of growing concern. “Lina?” he asked. “What is that?” He pointed at the growing wet spot on her belly.

 

Her feelings of despair only grew, and she suddenly wished that she was back on her home planet, where she would not be the only one out of place; where she could be her own sluggy self, without fear of being driven from her town just for being different. It was a wonderful place, full to the brim with slug-folk of all kinds, large and small; but of course, she couldn’t return there. None of them could.

 

She glanced down at herself again as she searched for an answer to give David, knowing that the situation grew more precarious as the seconds ticked by. She looked up, growing paler as the whitish-greenish blood of her original body rushed up to her face underneath her human skin. She began to speak, then felt that her voicebox had shorted out.

 

“Scallywag, ‘tis okay!” she squawked, much like those strange Earth-birds, parrots, without meaning to. She immediately clapped her hands over her mouth, her thoughts racing faster than ever.

 

Oh no. They’re going to find out. I’m going to be driven from Earth, or they’re going to stone me and my siblings. We can’t go home, either… What’s the closest planet that we can flee too?

 

 

She could almost feel the stones striking her body, her arms, face, stomach. They broke her legs, leaving her unable to flee; she oozed out of the cracks in her skinsuit, trying to run, but there was only so fast she could move, even as a toddler-sized slug, when stones were directly hitting her organs.

 

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It’ll be okay, she told herself. Lina looked down again, and saw that her whole front was wet now, and her other friends had turned and were asking her if she was okay. She could hear someone in the back say, “Should we call 911?” Closing her eyes and blocking out all the other noise, Lina wished that she was back home, with a plate of the finest Galaxy Ant in front of her. She could almost smell it, the steaming flesh of one of the slug-folk’s greatest enemies.

 

Lina breathed deeply again and opened her eyes, readying herself for the storm about to come. It was then that she realized that the smell of steaming ant wasn’t only in her imagination, but was instead wafting towards her from the sky. When she looked up, still ignoring all of her friends, she could see something rapidly falling from the sky, and as it grew closer, completely still as it hurtled toward the earth, she could make out mandibles, antennae, and six long legs.

 

She felt herself start to salivate, mucus pouring out of her now burst ears, and so, she turned and ran for it.

 

----------------------------

 

Lina made it a good three blocks before her skinsuit burst open and she tumbled out onto the street, leaving a trail of slime behind her.

 

She swiveled her head around, looking to see if anyone had seen her sudden change from human to slug. The street was miraculously empty, everyone inside and having dinner with their families, enjoying life. It would have been an idyllic scene, if not for the thoughts she could hear all around her.

 

She shuddered. Why, oh why did her family have to come to the most xenophobic planet in the galaxy? No, the universe?

 

It was awful. Her friends were wonderful humans, it was true, but even they were wary of the alien “invaders”, as the news called her and her species. And now, all of a sudden, the real invaders were coming to Earth.

 

Hah. Invaders, they said. Hostiles, they said. It was the worst, to hear that every single day after fleeing from her destroyed planet, home gone and half of her family dead.

 

The only good thing that had come out of the attack on Planet Slug was his death. Every time Lina thought of it, it brightened her mood, and even though she could never get back what he had taken, at least she had one good memory of him- his death. His eyeballs in his eyestalks, frantically rolling around, His fat body squishing along as he tried to run. The splat he made as the grenade hit and sank into him and exploded, throwing whitish-greenish blood everywhere.

 

She smiled in pleasure, there in the street, showing off her tiny, sharp, sluggy teeth. Her friends talked about having awful exes, but she was quite sure that none of them hit quite the same level of awful as hers.

 

Finally, she came back to herself, remembering that she was still out in the street, and thanked Slugathor that no one seemed to have looked out the window in the last few minutes. She heaved a sigh as best as she could, then, carefully lifting her skinsuit, she smooshed her way to a bush in someone else’s yard, wincing at the trail of sticky mucus left behind her. What an awful mistake! She needed to let her father know that her skinsuits still weren’t working, that the malfunctions were near constant, and that probably all of her new human friends now knew that she wasn’t one of them.

 

Oh, and that the Galaxy Ants were showing up on Earth now. That might have also been pertinent information.

 

She cringed, hoping that it was all just a nightmare, that they didn’t know and the only ants on Earth were the ones native to the planet. Quickly, she brought herself back to reality again, and sent out a thought to one of her remaining 100 siblings.

 

Can one of you come get me? I’m kind of trapped on Garcia Street, and there’s slime all around me.

 

 

She felt, rather than heard, her little brother’s words back to her. Great Slugathor, Lina. What did you do? asked the one called John.

 

It’s not my fault! she thought to him. My skinsuit malfunctioned, again! Stupid thing.

 

 

Lina, dad made you a new one just this weekend, he thought to her. How did it malfunction already?

 

 

Whatever, John, she thought anxiously. I’ll explain at home, okay? Also I don’t know if this was a fluke or something, but I think the Galaxy Ants might be gearing up to invade Earth. Also, we might have to flee again. Just come get me, okay?

 

 

I… am not sure I want to know, thought John. Just hold tight. I’ll be right there. 

The Female of the Species (12/16/18)

 Humans.

 

Also known as Homo sapiens, they are one of the more peculiar species who make their home on planet Earth. As mammals, they share many of the same characteristics as rodents, dogs, and cows. In terms of intelligence, the human race is one with many higher brain functions, though it is true that they are far outstripped by dolphins. Genetically, they are more similar to the banana than not, though what that says about their higher brain functions, we cannot say.

 

Interestingly enough, when researchers conducted a survey of humans, it was found that the prevalent attitude among the older generations- those reaching 60 plus years of age- was that the female of the species is the weaker of the two, in mind and body. Ignoring the standard sexual dimorphism, this is an attitude that is completely opposite many other species that also claim Earth as their home.

 

Take the black widow spider, for instance. The male is most often smaller, weaker, and devoured by the female after mating. Or the large, wild cats known as lions- the females do the majority of hunting. Female dominance happens even in the oceans- the male anglerfish, for example, is considerably smaller and weaker when he latches onto the larger female, who eventually drains him of his essence until he is simply a parasite with male reproductive organs.

 

It is important to note that not all humans share the same attitude towards the strength of females. Unlike many other species, humans have ideas about themselves that differ from “culture” to “culture.” Take, for instance, the young female with the knife.

 

Tension rises as she stands with the adolescent male in the alley between two buildings. No more than sixteen years of age, it is clear from both their facial expressions and body language that something important has just been said. We can hypothesize that she has just initiated courtship, as that seems to be common among humans of this age. The male, obviously pleased, steps closer to the female, and seems to be attempting to embrace her- and that is when she strikes.

 

Normally, young female humans travel in packs in order to deter unwanted mates. The males, on the other hand, are generally loners, each competing to find the most attractive female to mate with. In itself, it is unusual that the young female has allowed herself to be alone with one larger, and most likely stronger, but her plan becomes clear when she plunges the knife into his back.

 

Humans, unlike most other animals on Earth, evolved without a way to kill something immediately, and as such, must resort to other methods. The knife that the young female human has just used is one such method. Readily available from the supermarket known as Walmart, the female uses a knife known as the Whetstone 15 inch Jungle Master Hunting Knife, which is possibly a copy of a famed knife from history.

 

(We are, as of yet, unsure if humans have such traditions.)

 

This female has the accuracy to stab directly into the male’s heart. Twitching, he doesn’t make a sound, collapsing onto the female as he dies. She holds him up for a moment, before dropping him onto the ground. We must note that this is unusual behavior among humans in general- a very large majority seem to not enjoy stabbing anything other than the occasional steak, which while it is still meat, is already dead, and most do not enjoy the sensation of being covered in any other liquid than water, let alone a tissue as thick and sticky as blood.

 

The female glances down at the body, then back up, as if assessing her surroundings. She reaches down and yanks the knife out of the male’s body; then, pulling the sleeves of her shirt over her hands, she turns the body over. She appears to be unaffected by the face, which is stuck in a horrified expression, which is an unusual reaction for the species as a whole. Silently, she gets to work on his neck, sawing through it, not flinching away as more blood seeps out and soaks her shoes through.

 

In order to determine if this is standard behavior for the human race, or even for this human in general, our researchers took it upon themselves to follow this young female through the course of the day, and what they found is rather shocking. For this human, today is not the first time she has killed. The researchers arrive at her home, which is a small building on the outskirts of the town where she lives with her mother and father, and they observe her climbing up the wall to deposit the head in what seems to be her room, before slipping out of her bloodstained clothing into something cleaner. The young female then sneaks back outside, where she walks into her home through the front door. Curiously enough, neither of her parents seemed to be remotely aware of their daughter’s extracurricular activities, and do not question her about anything relating to her day. In fact, both seem to be considerably more occupied with watching something about a “serial killer” on the television.

 

She goes up to her room, again, and upon opening her closet to put the head in, our researchers can see that there were about five more heads in the closet, each on a different stage of decomposition. The oldest was merely a skull. The one after that had a few remaining pieces of flesh clinging to it, but was decaying to the extent of the first. The next two were missing the skin, the muscle having been mostly eaten away, and had maggots crawling through the cheeks, the eyeballs already gone. The last seems to be the most recent; it is whole, with its eyes open and the flesh just beginning to rot, and blood congealed around it in a puddle.

 

Up until this point, we had assumed that humans, though not as sensitive as many other creatures on Earth, had relatively good senses of smell, being able to distinguish several different odors from various distances. However, we must rethink this evaluation, because though the disembodied heads in the young female’s closet must have some sort of a smell, no one else seems to have noticed anything. Based on this information, we can infer that perhaps the parents have a disorder that has affected this sense – hyposmia, maybe, or parosmia.

 

The young female sits down at her desk with a sigh, and sets her face down on the wood. This is the first emotion she has shown all evening, and it most certainly does not seem to be regret. Such anomalies in human behavior must be studied further, in order to be able to understand this most peculiar race.

 

On the other side of the world, in a place completely uninhabited by humans…