The Visitor
Angela Moran

Voters Rating 15 / 1000



Why am I writing this story? You might think I'm crazy, but I believe there could be life elsewhere in the Universe. I don't believe that aliens are the monstrous, evil creatures portrayed in the movies however; I don't think they would want to massacre us all so they can take over Earth as they attempt in Independence Day or Battleship, for example.

I wanted to look at it from a different angle.

What if they came to Earth with a different agenda? What if their goal wasn't to take over Earth, but to save it? What might that mean for us...?

* * * * *

Deforestation, pollution, disease, and war plagues Earth. Before it is too late, the planet will be saved from annihilation but what does this mean for the human race? An unlikely heroine unravels the truth.

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Chapter One

The light is gently fading as dusk fast approaches. The clouds that scatter my view above the trees take on hues of orange, purple, pink and red, as if someone took a paint brush and dabbed along one side of their fluffy marshmallow exteriors with a mishmash of colour. It looks so alive… I drift amongst the clouds in my mind, trying to make myself feel calmer. There’s a saying here on Earth - “red sky at night, shepherd’s delight”. I don’t feel delight. I feel anything but, no matter how hard I try.

He’s looking directly at me from across the room. I can feel his eyes bore into me as I glance in his direction. Concern is written across his face. It’s a look I’ve seen more and more of that recently. It’s a look that says we’re in trouble. Ever since we went on the road it’s been impossible to relax. We’re both constantly on edge, unable to decipher real danger from paranoia. Neither of us can sleep properly, even though we take it in turns to keep watch.

I haven’t showered in days in case we need to make a run for it. I feel disgusting, my hair dishevelled, skin greasy, but I don’t want to be caught out. We just need to keep it together for a few more hours. If we can make it to the rendezvous, then we’ll be safe again. We have fifty more miles to travel. We’ve been worried - if we stay in the same area for too long we’ll undoubtedly be spotted. Our best chance of escape has been to keep moving.

Paul throws the phone to me where I sit by the window. I pick it up and check the screen. No signal. Not a single bar. I am immediately filled with dread. So it’s really happening.

“How did they find us?” I say astonished. “It’s not a registered phone.”

We had been so careful. We left everyone behind, not even telling our family what we have discovered, or where we are going. We didn’t even leave a note. We just disappeared. We ditched our car, changed our appearance, checked into a bed & breakfast we’ve never been to before, in the middle of nowhere. I removed our trackers; it was excruciatingly painful, but necessary. I can still feel a throbbing in the back of my neck. They were the only clues I left behind, hidden in the attic, in a house they know nothing about.


Chapter Four

 - 2020


She crouches down in front of the fire to relight it when she senses being watched again. Deep down she knows that she must be making this all up, but she can’t shake the feeling. What if her senses are right? What if she isn’t alone? As she looks up, she forces herself to slowly turn her head, and glances through the glass doors that lead into the dining room. She sees the outlines of the table and chairs, the sideboard against the far wall. Behind the partially open kitchen door, she observes an outline of something she doesn’t expect to see. Swallowing hard, she begins to shimmy herself backwards away from the doors, as she sees the silhouette of a figure dash into the kitchen. She quickly stands up and inhales sharply, the speedy motion blowing out the match flame that had almost burnt down to the tips of her finger and thumb. Feeling exposed, she launches herself across the room to hide behind the armchair where Pegasus observes her with disdain for being disturbed. Why she is hiding? She doesn’t really know. If there really was a person there, they’d be in the kitchen and wouldn’t be able to see her. Did she really see someone? The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She’d checked that room only a moment ago. She’d been in there with whoever that was.

Perhaps they will leave if she stays where she is and remains quiet. They can sneak out the back door and she can pretend this never happened. Wasn’t that her plan all along, to hide from the thieves - if there really were some hiding in her house? But she doesn’t hear the sound of any doors opening and closing. They must still be inside. What is she going to do?

“It’s ok,” she says to Pegasus, more for her own benefit than his. He yawns, slowly extending his front legs to stretch, before curling up once more, hopeful that his owner will get a grip and let him sleep.

“If you are so relaxed, then there really can’t be anyone here,” she continues as she strokes his head. He begins to purr, which helps to soothe her nerves. “You’d have run outside if there were strangers in the house. This must all be in my head,” she reasons, but tears threaten to appear at any moment. Still unconvinced and wary, Theia stands up, slowly, trying not to make a sound.

Shaking, she goes to the living room door and pokes her head around the corner to look down the hallway to the kitchen door as she did before. It’s open and the light is off. Someone could be in there right now. Should she go and see?

“No, I can’t cope with this, I’m too much of a wimp,” Theia says out loud to herself. Grabbing Pegasus from the chair, she decides to make a break for it out the front door. Whoever is inside can steal whatever they want in peace. She’ll come back once it’s light. Nothing seems as scary when it’s daylight.

She grabs her car keys from the wall hook to her left before stepping out into the hallway, her feet now cold against the flagstone floor as she reaches for the latch. Grabbing her coat with her free hand, she takes one last look down the corridor before she leaves.

Everything turns black.

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