tagSci-Fi & FantasyChildren of the Cosmos

Children of the Cosmos

byhorrorotica©

Gladys hated riding in Vern's old truck down the back roads around Tupelo, nothing but pothole after pothole. "Slow down, for heaven's sake," she shouted at her husband.

He grinned at her. Vern loved going fast over these roads, with his next greatest love involved seeing how afraid Gladys would get, especially when the truck fishtailed around a corner making her squeal. A big plume of dust billowed behind them coating the trees that seemed to hang over the road like a wall of green. Vern spotted a corner that he liked approaching, and floored the pedal. "Don't you dare," Gladys shouted at him over the loud engine, but she knew her protests only encouraged him.

The wild side of Vern something that she cherished in him. He could seem so quiet and shy sometimes, that it could be painful to watch. However, when he cut loose in moments like these, it aroused her.

"Hold on, sweet pea," he yelled as the truck rounded the corner at full speed.

"VERRRRRRRRRRRRNNN!" Gladys yelled as the truck began to sashay across the road.

As the ride began to smooth out again, at the skilful hand of Vern, something silvery flashed from the side of the road. "Watch out!" Gladys called out too late.

A figure stepped on the road a few feet in front of them, too close for Vern to do anything about it, and in a moment that ran in slow motion, the truck hit the man. Gladys watched helplessly as the man turned and looked right at her, his eyes wide with fright, followed by the bone jarring thud as the front of the truck hit the soft body. His body rolled onto the hood and hit the windshield, and cracking it severely, then disappeared over the back of the truck into the dust cloud that swallowed him whole, like some merciless monster.

Vern hit the brakes when he saw the man, but the old drum brakes needed pumping before they did any good. They pulled up one-hundred feet away, at a stop that made Gladys hang onto the dashboard for grim life, to stop herself hitting the windshield. "What have you done?" She shouted at Vern, tears already rolling down her cheek.

"What chance did I have? He stepped out of thin air!" Vern said, visibly shaking.

They climbed out and ran through the dust still hanging in the hot humid air of the Mississippi summer. The man lay on the ground before them, not moving. Please be all right, please Lord Jesus, help him, Gladys thought as she ran. They reached the body lying on his back, his clothes bloody and torn.

Squatting next to him, Vern shook his shoulder shouting, "Mister? Mister? Can you hear me?"

"Is he alive?" Gladys asked, standing back fearfully.

Vern looked at the man's chest that still rose and fell. "Yep, he's breathin'," he said.

"We gotta get him to Doc Jones," Gladys said.

"Hmm... OK, I'll back the truck up and we'll take him," Vern said, stood, and ran back toward the truck.

The stranger moaned. Gladys fell to her knees next to him and took his hand. "It's OK, we're gonna take you to Doc Jones," she tried to reassure the man.

Looking down his body she could see bone sticking out of his leg, and wondered what other injuries he had. The man opened his eyes and turned his head toward her, blinking rapidly. "Kwala bon mesa?" he mumbled.

"What?"

"Kwala bon mesa?" he repeated.

Maybe he hit his head, she thought. The man gripped her hand tightly, and as she was about to try to comfort him again, he started to glow. Her eyes fixed on his, they looked large, impossibly large. A pain began to grow in her head that became unbearable in seconds. She tried to pull her hand from his grasp, but couldn't. His eyes suddenly turned black. She screamed and collapsed unconscious next to the injured man.

As Vern backed his pickup truck down the road, he didn't see what happened to Gladys, he seen her lying on the road next to the stranger, and it frightened him. Once he had stopped, he jumped out of the truck in a hurry, and knelt next to her taking her hand. "Gladys? Gladys, can you hear me?" he shouted at her with a deep frown.

He waited, rubbing her hand and calling out to her for several minutes but she didn't wake. "Oh fuck it," he spat. He stood and opened the tailgate of the truck, then he scooped up Gladys into his arms and gently laid her out in the back. After that, he did the same to the stranger he had run over.

Once he was satisfied that the two were secure, he jumped into the truck and sped off back down the bumpy road.

*****

Gladys opened her eyes to find Vern, and her brother Travis, sitting near her. She looked around, and recognised Doc Jones waiting room with its strange posters of the human body, worn-out chairs, and grey walls. The air had a hint of cloves and antiseptic to its smell. Vern noticed she had woken, and jumped out of his chair and rushed to her side. "Sweet pea, are ya all right?" he asked with big eyes full of concern.

It comforted her seeing how much he worried for her. "Yeah, what happened?" she asked.

"I was hoping you'd tell me. You plumb fainted as I was backin' the truck up, for some reason?" Vern said.

She thought for a moment, but remembered nothing. "I don't know? One moment I was with that stranger, and the next I'm here," she said and sat up and spotted Travis. "Oh, hey Trav, don't tell me Vern's gone made a fuss over this," she said to him.

Travis walked up and kissed her forehead. "You know Vern," he said with a brash grin.

"You can talk," Vern said to Travis, "The moment you heard you were blubbering like baby."

Watching the two making a fuss made her smile. "What about the stranger? Is he OK?" She asked, remembering why they were here to begin with.

Vern shrugged. "Don't know. My business is with you first. Figure Doc Jones will tell us when he's ready to."

"Help me up," Gladys ordered.

"You sure? I mean we don't know wha..." Vern began.

"Come on, I feel fine," Gladys insisted.

They left the sitting room to look for Doc Jones and the stranger they ran over. They came to the door to his surgery and knocked. "Doc Jones? May we come in?" Gladys shouted.

The door swung open to reveal a portly man in his fifties, wearing glasses that hung low on his nose, and a suit vest over his white shirt with sweat stains under his armpits, and a gold watch chain going from a button to a pocket. "Gladys? How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "I'm fine, Doc, but what about that man?" she asked, trying to look around him in the office.

"He seems all right," the Doc said with a nod.

"Where is he?" Vern asked.

"He's in the guest room, come on, I was about to go check on him anyway," Doc Jones said.

They followed down a corridor toward the back of the house and entered a room to find the stranger lying on a double bed covered in a sheet. His clothes lying on the table, all torn and bloody. He looked strange, his face slightly longer than normal, so he had a pointy chin with a high forehead that seemed to jut-out over his eyes. His pale-white skin contrasted with black hair. He had a darkness under his eyes, like someone who hadn't slept well for weeks, but no bags.

"Is he dead?" Travis asked, thinking the man looked like a corpse.

"No, he's alive. Blood pressure and heart rate is low, though," Doc Johnson said.

"How's his leg?" Gladys asked.

The Doc shrugged. "Nothing wrong with his legs as far as I could see."

"But he had a broken leg, his bone was sticking out n' all?" Gladys said, looking at Doc as if he must be crazy.

Doc Jones grabbed the sheet and pulled it back to expose his legs. For a moment Gladys seen his dick, and she blushed at the size of it. "Nothing is broken, Gladys, and that's what troubles me."

"What you mean?" Vern asked.

The Doc put the sheet back. "I looked at your truck, and judging by the damage on it I think this man should be dead, or close to it. His clothes are ripped and bloody, yet when I examined him, there's not a scratch on him to show where the blood came from," he said.

"Do you know him?" Travis asked.

The Doc shook his head. "Nah, he's not from these parts. He has no identification on him either. So I called the Sheriff to come round to help us identify him."

"Looks like he's awake, Doc," Travis said pointing.

The man opened his eyes and looked up at them. His chin began to tremble as he glanced from face to face. As he looked at Gladys his body visibly relaxed, and he smiled at her.

"Are you OK, son?" Doc said to the man.

"Where am I?" the man said in the strangest accent they had ever heard. It sounded like a German-speaking in an English accent, with each accents recognisable.

"You're at Doc Jones house," Vern said, visibly relieved as if anything had happened to this man from his speeding, he would've been in serious trouble. The kind of trouble that sends one to prison for a few years.

"Who are you?" Gladys asked.

The man looked at her blankly for a moment. "I think my name is... Aron," he said.

"You think?" Travis said then laughed. "What, don't you know?"

The man looked at Travis as if he were trying to recognise him. "No. It sounds right to me. But you still haven't told me where I am?"

Doc Jones scratched his nose. "You're in Tupelo, Mississippi. Where ya from, Aron?"

"Too - pello," Aron said with a frown.

The watching quartet looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "Where are you from?" Doc Jones asked again.

Aron thought for a moment. "I don't remember," he said.

"What you mean you don't remember?" Vern said disbelieving.

"Now, leave the poor fellow be," Doc Jones said, "I've read about people losing their memories when they get a nasty bump on the head."

"Do you remember anything?" Gladys asked.

"I remember... you," Aron said. "You saved me."

"He's loco," Travis said.

"I didn't do nuffin," Gladys said, looking at Vern. "I didn't touch him."

"What ya gonna do with him now, Doc?" Travis asked.

"Well..." he started, looking at Vern with eyebrows furrowed, "He'll need a place to stay until we discover who he is, and where he's from. Seein' as you put him in this mess to begin with, I think you should do it."

"Doc, we don't have room for him," Vern said shaking his head.

"You live in one of Orville Bean's old huts don't you?"

"Yeah, but we don't even have 'lectricity connected to it," Vern continued to resist.

Gladys knew they were responsible for what happened to the poor man. She felt bad for him, with Vern being so stubborn about it. She knew they were trying to start a family, and having a stranger around might cramp their style. However, she decided that the Christian thing to do is help the man.

"Vern, I think the Doc is right. We owe this man for hitting him with the truck. We could've killed him," Gladys said.

Vern looked at her glumly, he knew what it meant for him to stay with them too. "Well, if you think it's right, sweet pea, then I ain't gonna argue. You always know what's best, long before I do."

She smiled at him. Gladys knew Vern could be a stubborn man, sticking to his beliefs however people pushed him. What she loved about him though is that once he figured out something is wrong, he'd change. A streak of integrity ran through him that no one but those closest to him could see. Some farmers, he worked for in these parts didn't trust him, and thought of him as white trash. When Gladys first seen the inner man, she fell in love with him immediately.

Travis walked to Aron's clothes and picked them up, screwing up his nose. "He's gonna need somethin' to wear. He can't walk outta here stark naked."

"I have some old clothes he can wear, it ain't much," Doc Jones said and left them to get the clothes.

"You're gonna have to work if you're staying with us, you understand?" Vern said to Aron.

Aron looked at him blankly. "Work?"

"I wouldn't worry Vern," Travis said. "By the looks of these clothes, I think he's loaded. So once he remembers he can pay you back."

"He better," Vern said.

*****

Doc Jones found an old flannel shirt and some overalls for Aron to wear. The only clothing Aron had that he could still use were his shoes. They were strange too, made of some soft, velvety material that gave the impression it would rip with little force, but as tough as leather. They drove back to Orville Beans farm and down to some old huts that once housed slaves, but now used for seasonal workers.

The early evening sent a chill through the air as they pulled up outside the rough-looking hut. A porch at the front, four rooms inside. To say the house looked primitive would be an understatement. Clad in grey vertical weatherboard like a barn, and up on stilts essentially tree stumps. Inside, the furnishings were basic, the walls were weatherboard and cracked, which let the draft in.

As they entered Vern stopped and lit a lantern, Gladys did the same and took it to a stove and began to light it. Vern pointed to a mattress on the floor in the living room. "You can sleep there," he said to Aron.

Vern grabbed a couple of jars with clear fluid in each and handed one to Aron. "Here, this'll take the pain away," he said and grinned. Vern drunk the liquid with relish, Aron sniffed it. Vern noticed his hesitance and said, "It's bad manners in these parts to turn down a man's shine, ya know."

Aron got the message and put his lips to the jar and drank. At first it tasted kind of bitter, and as he swallowed he felt it burn his throat, making him cough loudly. Vern laughed loudly at his discomfort.

"You sure ain't from these parts, are ya? You drink like a man who's never had shine before," he said.

"I'm not sure where I'm from, but I am sure I've never drank anything like that before," Aron said.

"Yeah, you're some soft city boy, ain't ya?" Vern chastised, "Maybe you better stick with water." He reached over and took the jar from Aron, who looked disappointed.

Aron had noticed a strange object sitting in the corner of the room. "What is that?" he pointed to it.

"It's a guitar, don't tell me you don't even recognise a guitar?" Vern said like it's a joke.

Aron shook his head. "No, what does it do?"

"You play music on it, geez Louise, have you heard of music?"

Aron nodded, he had heard of music. Gladys appeared wearing an apron and said, "Dinner will be ready soon, it's salted pork and beans tonight."

"Sounds fine to me, sweet pea," Vern said.

"What you men talking about?" Gladys asked.

"Oh, ole Aron here says he's never seen a guitar before. Isn't that the darndest thing ya ever heard?" Vern said, followed by another swig of moonshine.

"Maybe you should play him something, might help his memory. I'd like to hear you play before ya get too drunk," Gladys said.

Vern puts his jar down on the floor and retrieved the guitar. After strumming it a few times, he began to play in a soft drone. To Aron's surprise, Vern started singing:

"O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,

Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;

I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,

Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, How great Thou art.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,

How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
"

Verns soothing baritone voice filled the small house as he sang the words from his heart, only like a man who loves to sing can. Gladys hummed in the kitchen as she listened to her man sing her favourite hymn. Aron listened politely, not sure what to make of the music he heard. He didn't know who this God is, that Vern sung about, but he could agree with the wonder of the universe.

When Vern finished, he put the guitar down, picked up his jar, and sat back in deep contemplation drinking. Aron watched, feeling amused at how the doleful song had affected Vern. Aron could make out the simplistic mathematical cadence of the song, and found it unsatisfying. He sensed that Vern didn't seem to hear the music like he did. Gladys came in holding metal plates that steam rose from. The smell of the food hit Aron, and made him feel nauseated.

He looked down at the plate of baked beans and bacon bones feeling his head spin. Something told him that this food would not be good for him. Gladys noticed his reluctance to eat. "What's a matter, don't like beans?" she asked with a frown.

Aron puts the plate down then looked up at her and smiled weakly. "I'm not a good guest am I?"

Vern picked up Aron's plate, and tipped the contents on his own. "Vern!" Gladys said.

With a mouthful he said, "Well, he ain't gonna eat it."

Gladys shook her head at Vern disapprovingly, but had an idea. She stood and walked back to the kitchen, returning not long after with a couple of peaches. "Maybe this fruit will be better, til you get your proper appetite back," she offered them to him.

Aron took them and sniffed the fruit. It smelt pleasant to him, almost familiar. He bit into a peach feeling the sweet juices explode in his mouth, he enjoyed it. So he began to eat the fruit.

Vern and Gladys watched him eat four peaches in quick succession. On the last one he leaned back and smiled like a contented man after a banquet. Vern looked at Gladys with a raised eyebrow. "Well, if all it takes to feed him is water 'n peaches, then I spose keepin' him ain't gonna cost us nothin'," Vern said sarcastically.

After they ate, and Gladys cleared up the dishes, they retired for the night.

*****

Lying in bed Vern hugged Gladys and ran his hand down her stomach, while he gently kissed her cheek.

"Stop it, Vern. Aron is in the next room," she whispered.

"I can't help it, sweet pea. When I'm this close to you I wanna hold you close. I wanna feel you breathe," Vern whispered back.

She turned her head and they kissed, sliding tongues in each other's mouth, he pulled her body close to his. His manhood hard already, as his love bubbled deep inside. "I love you so much, sweet pea, more than life itself," Vern said.

Gladys shivered all over in pleasure as his words lifted her soul. "I love you too, Vern," she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Vern's hand ran down her leg and grabbed the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up. He lightly caressed her inner thighs, as they kissed deeply. How is it possible to love somebody this much, Vern thought. Her love for me is tender and sweet, like a dream I never thought possible. He felt her hairy mound, and as he explored her warmth he felt her wetness growing.

She sighed and moaned as he rubbed her clitoris, and slid fingers inside her velvety pussy. Gladys had pulled his dick out of his long Johns and stroked it lovingly. Feeling its hardness, its hotness in her hand as she pulled it. The skin on top giving over the hardness beneath.

"Take me," she whispered huskily in his ear. "Fill me!"

Vern got on top of her and grabbed his dick, guiding it into her womanhood. He felt the warmth of her flesh envelope his hard cock, stretching around it as he pushed it deep inside her. "Oh, that feels so good," she moaned too loudly.

"Shh," Vern whispered with a grin.

She smiled up at him as they lay there so connected. Two souls made one spiritually, and now physically. Vern reached under her nightgown with a hand and felt her firm, but spongy breasts. Pinching a nipple, rolling it between his fingers. Gladys had reasonably big breasts, more than a handful, but not over large.

He started to grind his hips on her so his hard manhood began to slide inside her vagina. Their mouth's locking in a mixture of hot breathes, eager tongues and shared saliva. The friction of his cock inside her began to have its effect and she felt her stomach tighten, her clitoris harden. Even the sensation of his dick hitting her cervix seemed to send jolts of pleasure through her. She knew this happened when she were close to ovulating.

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