My Area 51 Alien Prize

by Lucee Joie

  My Area 51 Alien Prize

  by

  Lucee Joie

  COPYRIGHT © 2019 by Lucee Joie

  Cover and internal design by Lucee Joie

  Cover images by DepositPhotos

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author and publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Thank you for respecting the creative rights and hard work of the author by purchasing an authorized edition of this book and not reproducing, scanning, or illegally distributing any part of this published work. Your support of legally purchased reading materials means that authors all over the world can continue to make an honest living from their hard work, so that they are able to continue publishing stories for readers to enjoy.

  (Please feel free to contact me on Lucee.Joie@outlook.com)

  The characters and events portrayed by the author are fictitious, and are used as such. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One: Lacey

  Chapter Two: Ejaw-Losal

  Chapter Three: Lacey

  Chapter Four: Ejaw-Losal

  Chapter Five: Lacey

  Chapter Six: Ejaw-Losal

  Chapter Seven: Lacey

  Chapter Eight: Ejaw-Losal

  Chapter Nine: Lacey

  SNEAK PEEK of Warrior of the Stars

  Chapter One: Beth

  Chapter Two: Horgeer

  Other Books by Lucee Joie

  About the Author

  Chapter One: Lacey

  My lungs burn as I continue to jog through the searing heat. Although, after eleven miles of this shit, staggering is probably a better description of what I am doing.

  A thin layer of desert dust covers me. Even if I get to see these aliens, they are going to have no idea what they are even looking at. Will they think that I am a new species come to rescue them? I don’t know. Yet, it spurs me forward as I try to ignore the stitch in my side.

  As far as I know, I am the only survivor approaching from the east.

  Initially, they thought the Naruto run would draw plenty of interest, not so much by way of actual attendance.

  They had been wrong.

  Thousands of people showed up at Rachel, the small town closest to Area 51. I never heard the final figure but wild estimations ran from one hundred thousand right up to seven hundred and fifty thousand. My guess? A shitload of people turned up.

  Most of them are dead now.

  Or, at least, the ones who stormed from the east are. I have no idea what happened with the larger group that approached from the north. Perhaps they got through. I doubt it, though. The guards seemed pretty prepared on our side so I can’t imagine it would be any different anywhere else.

  I stumble on a rock. Not wanting to injure myself, I gather my pace, although it is mainly unintentional as my arms splay outwards and my feet chase along underneath. It works, though, and I finally regain my footing.

  Looking ahead, I can see a building. Or, maybe it’s a mirage. It’s hard to tell. I hope that my first assumption is true because I am done with running, done with this whole adventure, actually.

  Who would be dumb enough to think that just because they run marathons for fun that they would be qualified to storm Area 51 with a bunch of other idiots?

  Me, that’s who.

  I’d nearly chickened out, too. As I sat outside the one diner in Rachel and sipped a steaming cup of tea, I seriously contemplated getting up and walking back to my car. I very nearly gave in to the urge to return home, to my normal, boring life.

  But then I saw the waitress doing the rounds. She was disheveled but smiling. This was probably the biggest thing to ever happen in this town, I realized then. Her life didn’t get any better than this. Did I really want to return to my crappy call center job and be just like this waitress?

  Hell, no!

  So, I stayed. And I ran when I was told to, although not in the recommended Naruto style but with my own pace.

  Looking forward once more, I see the building. I know it is not a mirage this time as it is bigger than my last sighting. I can see the concrete lines of the structure and what appears to be a large glass door like a black maw gaping at me, shocked that I had achieved what others hadn’t.

  I agree with it in my dehydrated fugue.

  I want to stop running but I know if I do it now, I will never move again. I need to get closer, to be able to assess the situation. Placing one step in front of the other, I concentrate on that rather than the possibility that I could die out here.

  The door looms, the glass of it glinting at me thanks to the position of the sun. However, as I get closer, I realize that only one half of the door has glass in it. The other side is smashed in and I can’t even imagine what sort of device was used to break through it.

  It is then that I notice a body. A guard is on the ground, his face missing, shot out and beyond recognition.

  This single feature stops me dead in my tracks. The reality comes over me in a wave of nausea and I vomit liquid I didn’t know that my body still contained into the dust of the desert.

  I thought I was used to seeing dead bodies by now. After all, so many of them had been shot down around me at the start.

  Looking around, I wonder if anyone has seen me yet, if this is my time to die. Nothing but the buzz of silence greets me and I step closer to the damaged door.

  Even in the middle of today’s horror, all I can think of now is hydration.

  Chapter Two: Ejaw-Losal

  It has been silent for so long that the crunch of glass underfoot is a jarring shock. Sitting up, I hold my breath, not sure if this will be my savior or a new level of torture.

  Slinking into the shadows of my cell, I hide in the only place available to me. If this person is here to kill me, it will only grant me a few short moments of safety. It is all I have though.

  Another footfall, closer this time, then the crash of something as a person stumbles through the doorway. Craning my neck slightly, I can see a pile of paperwork settling on the ground as several pens roll around under foot. The small person tries to avoid the rolling stationery and is only partially successful. As a result of this, a stapler and more paperwork are now cascading across the floor.

  Remaining in the shadows, I observe what is obviously a woman judging by her slight stature and ample chest area. I have been fooled by size before, that being the very reason I am stuck in this place. As a result, I will never look at size as a limitation against strength ever again.

  The woman has finally managed to avert falling over and is now peering down the corridor towards my cage. I am not the only one imprisoned in this facility, there are dozens of us, each from different locations across the galaxy. So, she is probably trying to work out exactly what she is looking at.

  If the technicians that are normally on duty are anything to go by, most humans have no idea that multiple worlds exist outside of their planet. I imagine that this woman will be no exception.

  I wonder if she is a part of the group that has been threatening the facility for months now. We weren’t supposed to know about it but the nervous anxiety of the workers here was the first sign that something was going on. Once we suspected something was up, we all tuned in and paid close attention to anything being said. Plus, it helped that we had a Haret on board, as their race can read thoughts. Even still, so f
ar, we had only surmised that the facility was under the threat of attack by civilians. The staff here were good at remaining closed-minded.

  Looking at the woman now creeping closer, I suspect that she is a civilian and not employed by this dreadful place. She is wearing dark pants that appear to have been painted on to her body and show off her athletic curves. I can’t really tell what color her top is, though, as she is blanketed by red dust. Her hair could be blond or it could be the same color as the dust, either way, it is pulled back tightly, although, sweaty strands have managed to escape and are now stuck to her neck.

  Even with her coating of grime, I can see her features underneath. Her eyes are blue, like the sky I have only seen briefly here on Earth. Her face is pleasing for one of her kind and her athletic body reminds me of the females of my own kind. I try to ignore the growing attraction.

  And by growing attraction, I mean raging erection.

  It has been far too long since I have laid with a woman.

  “Hello?” Her voice trembles and I peer out at her from the shadow cast over me, wondering if she can see me yet. Humans do not have the sort of eyesight my own race has. As I gaze on her, I realize that she is too tentative to be asking directly.

  “Yes?” I say and have no idea why. I am trying to keep hidden from her kind, the race that have always been cruel to me with my captivity. Yet, I sense something different about this one.

  She jumps with my single word and looks around so I step out of the shadows and reveal myself. I can see her surprise and then the shock of my appearance. It makes me smile.

  “Who are you?” she asks. Her voice is steadier this time and she squares her shoulders, feigning a confidence that I believe she is still lacking in.

  “My name is Ejaw-Losal.”

  The woman steps closer, staring at me with what appears to be complete amazement. I wonder what interests her the most, the color of my skin, my scales, or the fact that I have more arms than she does. Besides these points, we are similar in appearance. Although, I am much larger than her, towering over her like a giant compared to her short stature.

  I want to ask her what her name is, why she is here, who else is with her, along with a multitude of other questions. Yet, I remain silent. As she gets closer, I find myself mesmerized by her, captivated by her appearance and at the sheer fact that she appears to have not seen one of my kind before. Her interest is that keen that she is now wrapping her fingers around the bars of my cell. She may be intrigued by my appearance but she is not scared of me.

  The woman is so close that I can smell her scent, a sweaty aroma mixed with that strange Earthly scent that I identify with all humans I have seen so far. Yet, this one makes my mouth water.

  I reach out, my own fingers touching those of the woman. She doesn’t flinch or back away. Instead, her eyes are drawn to my act and she watches intently as I caress her skin, feeling a human for the very first time. I may have been trapped here for many cycles of the sun but the people who work at this facility have been very careful to keep their distance.

  They cite germs as the main reason. However, I also sense that they are scared of me, of my size, of the brute strength I first exhibited at the start before I realized that they possessed tranquilizers that rendered me powerless.

  They were not strong enough to make me sleep but they stopped me dead in my tracks and that scared me even more than the prospect of them knocking me out. There was a certain horror that came from being able to see your captive yet not being able to move should they attack.

  The woman’s fingers stretch out, as though yearning for my continued touch. I resume the caress, amazed at the way her skin feels, so different to the tough, scales I possess. Closing my eyes, I attempt to feel her skin without the extra sense and surprised at the heat her body generates.

  “Ej…” she whispers. “What is the other part?”

  “Ejaw-Losal,” I repeat slowly. “But my friends call me Ejaw.”

  She looks up at me and smiles. Her face lights up and her beauty is dazzling, even through a layer of dirt.

  “Nice to meet you Ejaw, my name is Lacey.”

  Chapter Three: Lacey

  Ejaw is like something out of a science fiction movie–and totally not what I expected an alien to look like. While he has a green complexion, the rest of the stereotypes are completely unfounded. He isn’t a sickly-looking figure with a large head and huge black eyes.

  Instead, he is enormous!

  He must be nearly seven feet tall and has shoulders so broad that I actually look around his small cell to see what he uses to maintain his muscle tone. He looks like one of those steroid-ridden gym junkies that I normally hate but, on him, the muscular physique actually makes me want to fan myself.

  His skin is not only green but he has what appears to be scales. We are still touching and I return the favor by wiggling my fingers over his and stroking the scales. I remember my childhood, when my grandfather was showing me how to catch fish. His skin is exactly like that, cold and shiny, yet vibrant with life. I can almost feel his very essence writhing away underneath the surface in the same way those fish I’d caught felt just before they flipped hard and out of my grasp.

  The biggest difference between us, though, is the fact that he has four arms instead of two. And, for some unknown reason that makes me as hot as hell. Perhaps it is the notion that his hands could roam so much further over my body than a normal man’s hands could. Or, maybe it’s the thought of so many fingers inside of me as well as caressing my body that has awoken the butterflies in my belly. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks and hope that this alien doesn’t know anything about blushing.

  This alien.

  I snort at the concept. Here I am, thousands of miles away from home, inside Area 51, and standing in front of an alien. I still can’t believe that they exist even though one is standing right in front of me. It is also a small miracle that we are both standing here, alive, and not being shot at by agents or guards from the facility.

  I have been feeling uneasy ever since entering the building. Even though I have seen the carnage, the bodies strewn about, I still expect guards to step out, to shoot first and ask questions later. Yet, I haven’t seen a living soul for hours now, not since I broke away from the massacre at the main gates. Not until I met Ejaw.

  The fear returns now that I am over the shock and excitement of coming face to face with a real alien and my gaze darts around the room.

  “How many of you are there?” Ejaw asks and I look back at him.

  “That came here today?” I question. He nods his answer.

  “I am fearful that I am the only one left,” I reply in a whisper. “There were so many of us this morning. Now, there appears to be only me.”

  “Can you get me out of here?”

  I gasp. The notion of me actually having the power to release this man suddenly dawning on me.

  “I guess I can. Do you know where they keep the keys?”

  I concentrate on the bars between us and notice that there isn’t any lock, nor a place to swipe a card. I frown in confusion.

  “I think they use the computer over there,” Ejaw says as he points across the room.

  “Hold on a minute, then.” I charge across the room, suddenly eager to be doing something. To be forgetting about the fate of all the others I joined this morning, their faces drifting in and out of my mind on a constant loop. “You’re not going to eat me if I release you?”

  Ejaw gives me the strangest look and I feel the heat rising again before he relies. “No, I am not going to consume you.”

  The computer is on and, surprisingly, appears to have no password lock on it. Stupid Area 51 agents, I mutter under my breath as I start clicking through the apps and screens already open on the desktop, looking for anything that might be the releasing device.

  Finally, I open an application that is called Cell 43, having noticed the same number on the room before entering it and finding Ejaw. Searching through,
I see a map of the room and click on the cell I believe belongs to Ejaw. The hiss of an air lock tells me that I have found success.

  Looking up, I see Ejaw stepping through the door. He straightens his shoulders, standing taller than I thought he was even and looks around. He is a giant, a strange creature in a place that the government likes to say doesn’t hold any important secrets. Yet, I feel no fear, no anxiety. Instead, I smile at Ejaw and he smiles back at me.

  “What about the others here?” he asks and my jaw drops.

  “There are more of you?”

  “No, not of me, but there are other species here.”

  I look down at the computer, at the section where I had opened the Cell 43 app and see other files there, other cell names and gape in surprise.

  “Are they friendly like you?”

  “How do you know I am friendly yet?” he asks with a tight smile. He attempts to glare at me, to look menacing. But, for all his size, he doesn’t scare me.

  Instead, I laugh at him.

  His gaze changes, intensifies as I continue to smirk at him and I find my own demeanor changing. His look is sucking me in, mesmerizing me and I want to get lost in him, to do things with him that humans shouldn’t do with aliens.

  Was that bestiality, I wonder before immediately rejecting the notion. He is like me, just with strange skin. He is not an animal at all. He speaks my language, for crying out loud. Which gets me to wondering.

  “Hey, how do you know what I am saying?”

  “Translation chips,” Ejaw replies. “I have one implanted in my brain to help me interpret what I hear and another in my vocal cords so that I can also speak your language.”

  “Wow. I didn’t know we had that sort of technology.”

  “You don’t. I had them implanted before my capture in order to trade with other planets.”

  Once again, my mouth is dropping. He has literally opened up a whole new world to me and I am finally truly thankful for deciding to come on this harebrained adventure.