Witness to an Abduction

I sat high in the tree, practically hidden by the branches and leaves, watching the world go by. Along the side of the less-traveled road, she approached my tree, clearly soused given her unusual walking pattern and her disheveled clothing. Most telling was the fact that her blouse was hanging open, only the buttons below her swinging breasts holding the untucked garment closed, and she clearly wore no bra, very strange indeed for a beautiful young woman walking alone in the moonlight along a barely-used road leading away from the university. She looked similar to the schoolgirls I would sometimes see pass through my territory early in the morning: white blouse, red tie, plaid skirt, white knee-high socks, plain black shoes. However, this young woman was clearly taller and somewhat older, and definitely missing the red tie to help close the blouse; she was also missing the backpack or satchel that the schoolgirls of the morning would typically carry with them.

I made a soft sound, and she did not look up toward me. I highly doubt that she could have seen me if she had looked in my direction, but the fact that her head did not turn at all, did not lift in the slightest, confirmed my suspicion: This young woman was indeed inebriated. And the closer she came to the base of my tree, the more prevalent the fact that she was concentrating almost entirely on simply walking, simply placing one foot firmly in front of the other even as she veered from side to side in the small stony berm alongside the paved road.

Clearly, she did not know. Then again, none of the people in my territory seemed to know. If she did indeed know, she would not be trudging alongside this lonely road so late into the night, especially not alone.

Just as she passed the base of my tree, the young woman fell. It was definitely not a graceful fall, certainly not a fall like the martial artists I might occasionally see practicing in the small field across the road early on some mornings. Instead, she fell with the gracelessness of a rock knocked off the top of a cliff: straight down without preamble, without any attempt to break the fall.

Her fall caused the skirt to rise up, and I was not particularly surprised to see that she was not wearing the white panty typical of the young schoolgirls I would see in the mornings. She was a pathetic sight, prone upon the berm, her reddish hair obscuring her face, but the sounds she produced and the expansion and contraction of her upper torso indicating that she was indeed crying, another condition I had witnessed from people – particularly from the young schoolgirls – in the past. In fact, I had witnessed this very same condition in each of the previous three nights from other young women who had suddenly come to learn of the threat to them.

I have never seen those young women again. Somehow, I doubt that I ever will see those young women again.

I heard it long before I saw it. Even in the bright light of the full moon on this particular cloudless night, it was a little difficult for me to see the thin nearly-transparent form slithering past the base of my tree. Her intoxicated state combined with her loud crying prevented the young woman from hearing the slither of multiple semi-transparent tentacles across the tall grass, and the thick red hair clearly obscured her view of the recently-landed alien.

The foreign, nearly-transparent being moved slowly toward the vulnerable young woman. Even if she were to suddenly become aware of its presence, I highly doubt that she would have even been capable of scrambling to her feet and fleeting the danger before her.

The dozen or so tentacles supporting the tall thin torso paused beside the young woman's bare legs. Her pale-white skin seemed to shimmer slightly when viewed through the semi-transparent being, and I had to blink rapidly several times to assure myself that I was truly seeing such things, that my typically-excellent night vision was not attempting to trick my mind.

More than a few times, I had seen people mating in my territory, primarily in the dark cover of the wooded area in which I personally lived. However, never had I witnessed a man enter a woman at the small orifice nestled between the fleshy buttocks, so I was both intrigued and startled by the sudden piercing scream the young woman produced as a thin tentacle suddenly penetrated that particular porta. She tried to crawl quickly away, clawing at the stony berm, but several other tentacles quickly wrapped around her, holding her securely in place despite her frantic thrashing, the tentacle embedded within her slowly slipping ever deeper into her body. Her screams almost seemed to shake the very night air, her pain and especially her fear nearly tangible.

Then the young woman, the perversion of a schoolgirl, suddenly slumped forward into silence. The tentacle remained still, lodged deep within the young woman's body, and the narrow conic head of the semi-transparent being tipped slightly skyward for just a heartbeat before the alien and the young woman both glowed with a silvery light rivaling that of the moonshine before they disappeared from my sight.

Yet another young woman had been taken, subdued in a manner quite unlike any of the others whose abductions I had witnessed.

My eyes and my ears scanned the area around me. There were no other persons in the area, no one nearby who might have heard the ultra-feminine screams and come to investigate.

How many more would go missing before the people would begin to panic, before the young women would be locked away every night for their own safety?

With nothing more to see, I took to the air, toward the lake to the west.