Alien - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
We travel more distance than you can fathom in crafts your imaginations have yet to dream of, and you think you would know we are here? We are as the good biologists, observing and tending to your dysfunction. We are the doctors of the galaxy, the care takers who come to save planets such as yours. We operate under the command of the divine spirit, the one who is love and loves us all. This is a created universe after all. So think of us as friends from far, far away, perhaps in a place with two suns, yet we are the ones who bring peace to you, help you develop into a species that is kind. So when you are ready to find us, we'll let you... if you're very, very good.
They were more like shadows than physical beings - lightly resembling humans-shape wise, but only black smoke. Each form rippled whenever it moved like disturbed water. The only way I knew they were looking at me was the white eyes with a slight blue hue that stood out against the darkness.
The alien spun on a single point like a child's spinning top, but somehow it's eyes, all five of them, stayed locked on me from the front. It's surface was silver-white and rippled like a liquid, but kept it's shape like a solid. Then out of nowhere it began to emit the most beautiful and enchanting music. My eyes slid out of focus and all I wanted to do was walk to the pretty music and be one with it, nothing else mattered.
The alien shimmered in the air like the dome of a plasma lamp. It's outer layer wobbled somewhat like a jelly fish. Then slowly it took a human shape and solidified until it was a replica of me. A stream of what looked like lightening made liquid was expelled from it's head and entered my own. I was frozen but my minded buzzed, every image I had ever seen flashed in my head in rapid succession and I lost all track of time. When it was over I slumped to the floor and the alien proceeded to walk like me and talk like me. It went to my closet and put on jeans and a sweater. Then it cocked it's head to one side and considered me from a distance, and then it struck me...the alien no longer needed me. I was surplus to requirements. But were these peaceful beings or killers?
The alien assessed the data on humanity, the more he read the more conflicting it was. Under intergalactic law no species may be considered intelligent if they destroy their home world, no matter how advanced or complex their technologies may be. Yet they had the cornerstones of true intelligence - love, imagination, empathy. The rules dictated the final decision over if they were truly sentient must be decided by a "stress test" on the most intelligent one. Success meant the others would likely get to the same understanding with some help, failure would mean a mandate for the eradication of the problematic species.
The commander stretched out his antennae and tuned into the emotions of the planet and what he felt almost killed him. There was love and warmth from many species but the pain that flowed from the homo sapiens was almost enough to fry his neural network. He dissolved into the wall of the craft to mingle with his comrades. It was not a discussion but a joint feeling they arrived at. Either the dominant species had to be re-educated or eradicated. In their telepathic manner they selected the best and worst of the species and arranged for a pick up. They never did these things themselves, it was as easy for them as ordering a pizza is for a human in New York. They summoned the intergalactic snatch squad and transmitted the details.
"You shouldn't love me. You shouldn't even be anywhere near me." His voice sounded rusty, like the hinges on the door to the missile silo he'd been trapped in for God knows how long, as he finally pushed his way out into the blinding sunlight and blistering heat. His eyes opened slowly and he managed a lopsided smile even as the oil-like substance swirled over and around the whites and irises of his eyes. It was all I could do to keep from crying as I gently cupped his face in my hands, resting my forehead on his while the tarry fluid flowed over my fingers. And still, despite his words, I couldn't help but love him. Adore him, really; he'd risked his life to find out all he could, even going as far as to contract the alien disease he was researching so fervently. How could I not love this stupid, reckless, passionate, brilliant man? He'd stuck by me even after finding out I was something of a monster myself.
"Good thing we're both inhuman, isn't it? A monster and an alien in love."
The aliens didn't care what or who you were. They wanted to planet cleaned of human life. Whether they were extreme environmentalists, just enjoyed the kill or wanted the planet and it's resources to themselves we didn't know. All the few witnesses could describe was that if an alien fixed you with it's red eye you'd explode like you just stepped on a land-mine. And after that there wouldn't be a piece big enough left of you to bury in a matchbox.
The alien was transparent like glass, but when it rippled it was more like a frosted pane. It could roll like a ball or hover in mid air. When it wished to communicate it would transmit an emotion to your brain and you would understand it's needs without using language. But if you spoke to it or exhibited an emotion it would ripple more intensely before transmitting a response.
The alien's skin was like bark and it had many green and purple spines on the back that could have been photosynthetic. From it's head and limbs it seemed to emit a bioluminescent glow. It was bipedal like a human but it had four arm-like projections, two which seemed to function as hands and two which seemed to spark like they were overflowing with static electricity.
The alien looked more like a giant lobster than a mammal with it's tough steel-grey exoskeleton, but it had many tentacle ams, each with finger like projections at the ends. It had two claws extending from mid-way down it's thorax and for a mouth it had mandibles that it clicked by way of communicating.
Years later when I tried to describe the alien that took us, all I could remember was how their hexagonal eyes glowed and they smelt like nougat. Whatever else they were like had somehow been erased from my mind and the year I had been gone had seemed like a few seconds. But one day my daughter bought me some almond nougat for my birthday, and after one sniff the whole thing came flooding back like a movie I'd once starred in but not watched for a long time. It was surreal.
moves on waving tentacles, has a white egg shaped head with dark almond eyes, has long stretchable arms, green scaled skin, many eyes, other worldly, serene aura, hypnotizing eyes, razor sharp fangs, large compound eyes like a fly, leaves a trail of gooey secretions, slithers like a snake, speaks any language through telepathy, is completely encased in a robotic suit, is smaller than a hamster, tall and thin like a child's stickman drawing.
The kid watched me from the far end of the bleachers, probably thinking I didn't notice his presence. I did, but I just didn't care. He had that classic Phoeban look: the pale skin untouched by natural sunlight, the slight frame of one who had never experienced full gravitational pull. The puck slammed into the boards behind the net and ricocheted across the rink. I'd missed the goal, and badly at that. The kid was still back there, silently staring with his big, moon-like eyes like I was Chao Cyrus in the Andromeda Cup finals. I wondered if I was being considerate. Just by lifting the stick, I was showing him what he'd never be able to do and rubbing it in his face. It was too heavy for Phoebans to lift in a regular-gravity area and impossible to play in the low gravity that was the only place they could function properly in. I was tempted to tell him to go somewhere else and find something to watch that one day, maybe he could do, or play. Maybe chess, or moonball. Instead, I threw the puck back onto the ice and took another shot.
It was narcissism to think for a second that they would be humanoid and absolutely delusional to think that they'd be like anything from this earth. It was apparent that they were sentient, intelligent beings-- yet, they had nothing that could be recognized as any form of nervous system. They communicated with frequencies that were inaudible and saw colors that to us, were invisible. There was only one thing we knew about the F'Gorax: No human could ever understand them.
Selecting an avatar for The Game was always hard. It was costly too, the more features you wanted the higher the price. But once you were hooked up it was all you had to keep you interested for what felt like a lifetime. The games were only four hours long, but the scientists had worked out a way to make it seem like eighty years or more. You were born into the game as a baby and left old, unless you died and that was scary. Once in there you just didn't know it wasn't real, in a way it was real. There were rules too, mess up your new "home world" too bad and you locked in for every "reincarnation" until it was fixed. Of course if it wasn't fixable you were just in for a bad time for eons. The problem was that once in there no-one knew it was a game, it was just life. Then when you came out you had the choice of re-spawning with the people you knew or taking pot-luck. I know what you're thinking, why play at all? Well, what were our options? Live in the ether of our home nebula as the ghost-like star-creatures we were or get to live multiple finite lives? Every thought of what it would be like to hang out in space for a year with zip to do? Try three hundred. If it wasn't for The Game we'd have lost our God-given minds.
My Avatar was always female, I'm not sure why but it just appealed to me. I often changed my hair, build, skin colour and athletic ability. Sometimes just for laughs I went in as a gorilla or a whale; those were often the most fun anyway. I added in some bizarre feature when I'd earned enough karma, I'd be a math genius, an artist or sing like an angel...
The alien travelled as a cloud of barely there yellow-tinged gas and entered its prey though the cerebral fluid. The victim knew nothing of the attack except that they could smell something quite metallic. Once inside the host it feasted on their sugars, the closest it could get to the “chemical highs” of its own planet. From then on they would loose weight, happy at first and usually boastful to their friends, snapping photographs of their new physiques. But the loss continued no matter what they ate, the monster getting more and more efficient at taking their sugars as time went on, growing tendrils ever deeper. Each victim wasted away, accused of anorexia or misdiagnosed with cancer or consumption. Once they passed away the monster would flee, occasionally being noticed by a grieving human and mistaken for the departing soul.
They were lizard-like, with hard green-brown skin. Each had a set of six tentacles that made a dry, skittering sound as they moved. Their heads were bulbous, demonic, set with faceted black eyes.