She stood up, pulled down her underpants a bit and began to satisfy herself as Hannes saw it. Hannes had enough, he wanted to get up, go into the living room, or lock himself in the bathroom, or leave the apartment, he was stunned. A soft voice in his head told him to wait, that was nothing perverse.
Ibby stared over him into space. Then she sat down again, her hand covered with moisture, probably her secretion. A clear liquid, clearly the female smell was to be smelled. With one hand she suddenly held Hannes injured arm firmly, with the other hand she coated the wound, first in the depth, then at the edges. When she was finished, she squeezed the wound edges together with both hands.
The pain stopped. Almost immediately. Hannes took a breath and could hardly believe what he saw. The wound looked like it had been injured two weeks ago, after this unusual type of treatment. Only a thin red line on the arm showed the course of the injury. With the rest of the secretion, she also coated the rest of the wound. She stood up, while Hannes sat on the chair numb and stared at his arm, took a roll of bandage from the bath and wrapped it around his arm.
Hannes drank his glass. The pain was gone, but he felt very strange. He decided not to think about what he had just experienced but went towards the living room to lie down. Ibby stood up, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the bedroom. She hadn't done that in almost three weeks. Ibby pushed him towards his bed and told him to lie down. He undressed himself to his underwear and lay down. She covered him up. Now all he needed was a goodnight kiss, he thought. Instead, Ibby stood in front of him, wiggled her head a little and made a gesture that said, I don't know exactly. Then she held her head with both hands, acted as if she had a headache, then straightened up again, then the gesture of surrendering. Then again, the gesture that he didn't know exactly.
Hannes sighed. You might get a headache or puke or both. He nodded. She left the bedroom and left Hannes to his thoughts. He decided to think about it the next day, turned on his side and fell asleep almost immediately.
Sabine von Hansenwerder’s evening didn't go so well. The memory of the woman (and her wonderful kiss ...) became more and more shadowy as she moved away from the house and finally disappeared. Sabine also noticed that her nipples had calmed down and that the glow of her abdomen had disappeared. When she arrived at the station, she did everything she had to do, changed her clothes in the basement in front of her locker and left the building again. She was standing on the sidewalk in front of the entrance, strangely stunned. She remembered that she had talked and laughed with her colleagues, but she didn't know what the subject was and what they had laughed about. Suddenly she was fully back again. Astonished, she looked around, noticed with relief that only a few seconds had passed. But she noticed that by her shoes that were fully with water, she stood in a big puddle. The snow had almost melted, the temperature had to be above zero degrees, but still, it froze. She shook herself, decided to go shopping first and then go home.
She actually wanted to cook for herself again, but when she went shopping, she realized that she didn't feel like standing in the kitchen. She then threw several instant meals from the freezer section into the shopping cart and she pushed the cart to the wine section. She grabbed two bottles of Prosecco and a bottle of Barolo that was on sale.
She paid and walked home with her shopping bag. But the closer she got to home, the more nervous she became. She kept looking around to see if anyone was following her. She dodged people who came up to her on the sidewalk. She jumped to the side when she heard a horn on the street. She was startled when the shopping bag hit her legs once.
The closer she came to her home, the harder it was to breath, not out of excitement, but out of fear. Fear of what she would find, fear of what was waiting for her.
Panting, she stood in front of the front door, opened it, turned on the switch for the hallway light and wanted to call the elevator. But when she stood in front of the door, she couldn't bear the thought of the opening elevator door. It could be somebody, something, waiting in there and then coming at her. Her legs trembled as she stood in front of the panel. Just as well, the thought shot through her head, the elevator could then break down, the light would go out, and she would then be in the dark. And then something would happen. Something bad. Something creepy.
She was scared to death when the hallway light went out. She froze. Further up in the stairwell, footsteps sounded. Sweat was on her forehead. She was trying to catch her breath. Panic began to flood her. Her hands were freezing. She took a step back, looked for the switch for the light, but saw nothing, just darkness, which riddled her brain with groping fingers. She felt around for the switch with increasing fear, did not find it, looked at the door, was ready to escape when a black shadow appeared in front of the front door. Her knees became soft and she realized that she would lose consciousness if she did not pull herself together. But she couldn't. The sound of a key in the door, then the door swung open. An unerring grip of scheme for the switch, the light lit up. She recognized her neighbor, who looked at her in horror. "Good evening, Frau von Hansenwerder! My goodness, you look like you saw a ghost!" Sabine von Hansenwerder, deathly pale, with her face covered in sweat and her eyes wide open, was incredibly relieved that her neighbor had ripped her out of this unbearable tension.
Sabine mumbled a short apology that she had been so deep in her thought that when the light went out so suddenly, had really frightened her. The man looked skeptically into her face but said nothing. He called the elevator and asked Sabine if she would go with him. Since she knew that the man lived above her, she could get out in front of him, she just nodded. Both got into the elevator and went up silently.
When the elevator stopped on Sabine's floor, she murmured a farewell greeting and stepped into the hallway. Immediately her eyes looked for the light switch and in fact, the light went out immediately when the elevator door had closed. Velvety, physically perceptible blackness surrounded them. She looked into the darkness and then expected noises to come her way. Something would come towards her, something would open her mouth when it had reached her, and she would see long, pointed teeth despite the darkness, and then she would be eaten alive, and she would feel what dying felt like.
If she didn't turn on the light really quick.
She hurried with narrowed eyes to the light switch, struck it, and when she saw the light through the closed eyelids, an unprecedented relief flooded her body.
She opened her apartment door, stepped in, hit the hallway light switch with her fist, dropped her bag, heard clanking, she didn't care, flooded with fear she slammed her door shut and locked it twice. Panting she stood with her back leaned against the door of the apartment, with soft knees, then she let herself slide down and sat there for a while with her legs pulled up, staring into the hallway. The hallway was brightly lit, but the rest of the apartment was dark. She heard footsteps again in the stairwell, heavy footsteps. They were getting closer. Then silence again. Sabine knew that something was standing outside her door now, waiting, thinking. She waited for knocking, scratching, roaring. She expected a clawed fist to strike through the wood and grab and hold her.
Hastily she jumped up, then hurried through her apartment with a throbbing heart and switched on the light in every room. Then she stopped in the living room, breathless, with a cramped stomach, wheezing, bent over, her hands on her knees. She tried to calm down and after an endless moment she succeeded, she straightened up and looked around. There was nothing left of the cozy atmosphere of her apartment, of which she had been very proud. The apartment was illuminated like an operating room and, as she recognized in a flare-up of fear, there were still many dark corners.
Sabine took off her jacket, went back into the hallway, hung up her jacket, took off her shoes and put on her slippers, then went to her shopping bag. She looked inside, luckily nothing broke.
In the kitchen, she opened a bottle of sparkling wine, poured herself a large glass and drank it quickly. She had to burp a lot afterwards,
but unlike before, when she suppressed the sound, she didn't force herself. Another glass, another burp. She stood in the kitchen, her hands resting on the countertop, her head lowered. The alcohol calmed her down a bit, but the kebab she had eaten a long time ago rumbled in her stomach. Sourly the Prosecco and the Kebab slowly but surely climbed up her esophagus, she was not nauseous, but she was certain that she had to vomit.
She ran into the bathroom, flipped up the toilet lid just in time before she vomited, everything she had in her stomach, in a huge surge. She knelt in front of the bowl, choked and then spat out colorless slime, but stayed until she was sure it was over.
Sabine washed her face on the sink, rinsed her mouth. She pressed the toilet flush down, saw the remains of her food disappear, with a distinct smell of garlic, spices and the Prosecco she had just drunk. She felt better. Not good, but better.
Slowly she went back to the kitchen, looked at the boxes of ready meals, decided not to eat anything anymore, but to open the bottle of red wine after taking a shower and drinking it in front of the TV.
Sabine went to the bathroom, closed the door, took her clothes off. She stood in front of the shower, turned on the water, checked the temperature, climbed into the shower and closed the curtain. While she was still soaping herself, she felt more and more that something was materializing in front of the curtain now that she had closed the curtain. Something that had been waiting for her. Something was taking shape in the bathroom. Something evil.
Hastily and breathlessly she pulled back the curtain.
Nothing. Really nothing. It was gone again. She was looking at the bathroom door. It was now outside the bathroom door, she was safe. She was in the bathroom, in the shower, naked, wet and defenseless. She could barely breathe. She hastily got out of the shower, dried off, got dressed. Her eyes fell on a pair of scissors lying on the floor cupboard. She grabbed it, ripped the door open, ready to prick. There was nothing.
With her eyes wide open Sabine stared into the hallway and also looked into the living room, of which she could only see vaguely. She stepped in the hallway. Her gaze fell on the man-high mirror that hung there and in which she checked every morning the correct fit of her uniform. She saw herself, with confused hair, wet, uncombed.
She saw her pale face, her mouth open, her eyes wide open, the scissors raised above her head in her hand, the clothes she had hastily put on, the sweater on her left, her trousers almost slipped from her hips, bare feet, ready to fight.
She was scared, put away her scissors, dressed properly in the brightly lit hallway, then straightened her hair in the bathroom with the door open. Sabine went back into the living room, looked around. It's all bright, it's all good. She got the wine, a glass and sat down on the couch. A feeling crept into her that there was something behind the couch, ducked, then when she leaned back it would grab her. Panting, she breathed out. She got up, went around the couch. Nothing. Nothing. She noticed that she didn't have a corkscrew in the living room, took it out of the kitchen, stood in the door frame and looked into the living room. If she moved the couch to the wall, she thought, then nothing could hide behind it anymore. All she had to do was move the little closet to the side. Sabine threw the corkscrew on the couch, pushed, driven by more and more panic, the cupboard to the side. When she did, she moved the couch to the wall. She grabbed the table and pulled it to the couch. Relieved, she sat down, opened the bottle and poured herself a large glass. Fast, but not as fast as Prosecco, she drank the glass empty and poured herself another glass, which she emptied just as quickly.
The alcohol began to work, and she was relieved to find that this strange, uncanny fear went a bit away. Now she had to think about how she wanted to spend the night. She thought for a while, then she decided to drink the wine, then check all the windows to see if they were closed, then she would go into the bedroom. In the bedside drawer there was a small pistol, which she would check and release it, put it on the bedside table, then she had to go to the bathroom and pee herself empty, so that she no longer had to go to the toilet, then back to the bedroom, close the door and perhaps push the drawer in front of the bedroom door.
One hour later she was lying on her bed, the gun ready to hand on the bedside table, the bedroom door locked and blocked with the drawer, with the ceiling light switched on, dressed. Sabine tried to think about what was happening to her, but she couldn't grasp a clear thought, every time she tried to think about it, she noticed how the fear grew stronger, but the more she looked and listened, the more ready she was, the more bearable it became.
She had made up her mind that it was difficult enough to leave the bedroom window open in the tilt position; when she lay on the bed in the bedroom, door locked, the window closed, the room seemed to become smaller and smaller and crush her.
Soon she had trouble breathing. So, she got up, went to the bedroom window, pulled back the curtain, opened it wide and looked out. She lived on the sixth floor; nobody could get up from downstairs. Only the roof remained, she thought, but there you would have to be a professional to reach her apartment from there.
She closed the window, turned the handle and tilted it, pulled the curtain forward again and lay down on the bed. It took her a long time to fall into a restless sleep.
Sabine von Hansenwerder fell asleep and Hannes woke up. Not completely, but half, so that he could, as usual, go to the toilet and immediately fall asleep again after going to the toilet. He didn't have a headache or nausea, he just had to piss like a bull. Hannes pealed out of bed, relieved himself and then crawled back into bed. He was so tired, just sank back to sleep, when he felt another body lying in the bed, thickly wrapped in a blanket.
Hannes pulled his blanket over his head again, but he noticed that Ibby slipped over a bit and snuggled up to him. For a moment he enjoyed the closeness and the warmth, then he slept deeply and firmly again.
Conversations
At five in the morning Hannes woke up, suddenly, it was the time he usually got up when he had to go to work. His bedside lamp was shining. He woke up, thickly wrapped in his blanket, warm and comfortable, lying on his back, his right arm under his head, someone was sleeping in his other arm. Ibby was sleeping in his left arm. He didn't move. He could clearly feel the weight of her head.
She had, he remembered, snuggled up to him; he was lying on his side when he noticed Ibby slipping to him, but must have turned in the night, but Ibby was still lying with him. She had put her arm under the blanket on his chest.
He listened and heard her breathe. He turned his head and looked her in the face. Partly it was covered by her hair, but Hannes could see that she had closed her eyes. He admired the perfect shape of the face, the structures above her eyes, the nose and the mouth, which he described as really wonderful with full, curved lips. He felt no desire to kiss her, but it had to be wonderful.
Hannes felt very good. Another understatement was excellent. He was thirsty for coffee and wanted to smoke. But that could wait. He looked back at the ceiling, switched off his thoughts and enjoyed the peace and also the closeness to Ibby. He wasn't afraid of her. It was a riddle, without question, but the coexistence of an earthling and an alien was not particularly difficult, at least not in this moment. He liked her.
So, Hannes lay there, Ibby in his arms, and fell asleep again.
Sabine von Hansenwerder woke up at eight o'clock. She woke up in shock, she had heard a noise, she twitched from her sleep, the pistol in her hand. She realized that it was the toilet flush from the floor above her and relaxed. She felt good. Her body hurt, but that was no wonder, as she had spent the night sitting between bed and wall. Slowly she realized what had happened yesterday. She relaxed and secured the gun and put it on the bed. A glance at the alarm clock told her that she should have been at the station thirty minutes ago.
She stood up, turned off the light and, pushing the drawer aside and stepped out of the bedroom. The whole apartment was bright. In the living room, the sofa stood at the wall, the drawer wa
s hastily moved to the side. That's what she did. That was her work. When she saw the marks of her panic, she was ashamed. She knew what had happened. Her behavior and feelings were unacceptable, but last night she couldn't do anything about it, couldn't control it, couldn't control it. She stopped in the living room and threw her hands in front of her face. Would she go insane now? Really mad? Because she had met a woman who had kissed her? Her stomach contracted a little. Be honest, she admonished herself. Was she going to go crazy because an alien kissed her? She had no third eye on her forehead, no purple spots on her body, no two new arms and her urine had not turned blue. So, what the fuck! Everything's good. Come on now, she ordered herself to make coffee, eat cereal, take a shower.
She went into the kitchen but thought that she felt no motivation to go to work. She decided to call the station and call in sick. Stomach flu, yes, I'm stuck to the ceramic, but sure, charcoal tablets and zwieback and coke are in the house, tomorrow I'll be back, greetings and apologies to colleagues, bye!
When she hung up, the coffee was ready, and she felt even better. She had a large portion of cereal and had breakfast. Then she decided to take a shower. But she said to herself, under tougher conditions: The light in the bathroom would be absent, including the light in the hallway, then all doors would be open and the shower curtain closed.
She didn't feel very well when she was under the shower, but it wasn't bad, it was quite bearable. When she was finished, she made her hair and braided herself again a tight ponytail. She didn't put on her flabby casual clothes but chose underwear, trousers, and top as if she was about to leave the house and then only had to put on her jacket. She went back into the living room, pushed the table and sofa back to where they belonged, pushed the drawer back into place. She sat down on the sofa with a fresh cup of coffee, put her feet on the table. She watched herself in amazement as she did it, wondered why she did it and got the answer immediately. A voice in her mind muttered that it was still too early to leave, for the two would surely still be asleep. Strangely enough, she could accept this quiet voice without any problems. So, Sabine of Hansenwerder waited until it was time to get up and go.
E.B.E. 21- the Hunt Page 12