An Alien Love Bk. 02 Ch. 15

Hi again. It's been a rough week! I'm going to tell you the truth. I'm tired of politics, mask debates, and just yelling on the internet. And so... here I am.

My next Ice Era Chronicle is going at a put-put pace, and I thought I needed to get out of my head. As you know, the best way for me to do that is write some alien drama. Here it is. I hope you enjoy it.

Cheers, ~M. From C.M. Moore

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*Chapter 15*

Meeting a cat in a dream.

Octnavin traced Sloan's tattoo as they both watched the flickering lights in the cave ceiling above them. A new set of aliens were fighting in the arena. They both caught sounds of screams and the breaking of limbs.

"I think it's all the weirder because there aren't cheering crowds," Sloan muttered.

"There is more than one dome. The aliens who come to watch move between multiple fights. The betting is better that way. Some fighters do not last."

"Like me." Sloan leaned his head on Octnavin's shoulder. Lately, Octnavin had been so tired that he couldn't even spar with Sloan any longer. After Octnavin's last round, his leg was badly cut. Sloan didn't have it in him to ask Octnavin to keep helping him train when the alien was so exhausted, hungry, and now injured.

"You will do well in your next fight." Octnavin soothed his mind.

"I wish I had your confidence."

Octnavin tilted his head down. Once again, he used the tip of his tentacle to trace Sloan's tattoo.

"Do you know what this says?"

"It doesn't say anything." Sloan eyed the black design around his bicep. "When I was eighteen, I wanted a tattoo because I thought I'd be a bad-ass or something. I just picked a dumb tribal design from the board in the waiting area. It's nothing."

"It is true that it is not English or a language on your planet. In Ragnarforman, it translates to..." Octnavin tucked some of his tube hair behind his ear. "It says I devour you."

"I devour you?"

"Yes. The translation is like you can eat or consume someone's soul. Not them as a being but eat their very essence. You are stronger than I have given you credit for. I have seen all parts of you. You are capable to devour."

"Well now." Sloan grinned. "So... I'm not a little pebble anymore?"

"Very funny." Octnavin gently shoved him. "You will always be a little pebble. Now you must sleep. I am sure you will fight again soon. Rest."

Sloan closed his eyes. Time was so meaningless in the cell. He had no idea if a minute passed or an hour.

"When I get home, I'm going to get a tattoo that says I devour you."

"Before you do that," Octnavin chuckled. "I should tell you that in Durulago, your tattoo says... pastry."

"Fuck you." Sloan chuckled and then snuggled into Octnavin's chest.

Sleep didn't come easily. Lately, whenever Sloan tried to rest, he always ended up keeping one eye open. He never knew when he would wake and Octnavin would be gone. Those were the worst moments. When Sloan woke and Octnavin was in the dome, fear stalked him. In those seconds, Sloan had to keep his brain clear and peaceful while Octnavin fought. Sometimes Sloan wanted to check on the battle and see if the alien was hurt or fighting for his life. Every time Octnavin stepped into the arena, his opponent was bigger and stronger and faster. Sloan gave it to the Dagerstanteen's pure stubborn will and mountain-like confidence that he was the fucking best. It was the ruler's unshakeable belief that had him always coming out alive.

Finally, Sloan fell asleep and clung to Octnavin. He swam in the alien's brain and floated in blue mist. When he was in Octnavin's mind, it was the only time he felt clean and healthy.

Sloan realized he was in a dream when he looked around and the haze had become white. Glancing down, Sloan discovered he was dressed in his band shirt and jeans. Everything he wore was clean. The room was a pleasant seventy degrees. A chair appeared. The seat was a big overstuffed wingback like he would find in an old library. Sloan sat and leaned back. He traced the logo on his shirt. This must be a dream because the shirt was pristine. Fuck. It was nice to have a seat instead of curling in cold mud. He didn't realize how much he missed a simple thing like a chair.

Ahead of where Sloan sat, a man appeared in the fog. Sloan stared at the newcomer as he approached. The guy was taller than Sloan and wiry with only a few muscles. His plain brown hair was trimmed to his shoulders and his eyes were plain brown as well.

His clothes had Sloan lifting one eyebrow. The twenty-something man was dressed like a genie from a lamp. He had huge loose silk pants and an open silk robe. The colors were a mix of purple and blue. When the stranger reached Sloan's chair, he stopped and glanced around. Finally, the two of them ended in a staring contest.

Sloan wasn't sure what the hell Octnavin was thinking about. Did his alien find tall skinny guys sexy? Is this what the ruler wanted in a human? Sloan was oddly annoyed. Fuck Octnavin. If this kind of man was what the alien dreamed about, whatever. So what if Sloan wasn't tall and skinny? Sloan could deep-throat like a champion.

"Hi." The stranger broke the silence.

"Hey." Sloan didn't bother to get up. He lifted his leg and crossed one ankle over his knee.

"This is weird."

"Yeah." Sloan shrugged.

"That's a cool t-shirt." The stranger gestured to Sloan and he looked down. That's right. He was wearing his band shirt again. The one that said Forever Tuesday.

"I like the band."

"Me too." The stranger grinned slightly like they had broken the ice. "Their drummer did this thing where he lit his sticks on fire. It was—"

"I saw that. That was fucking cool. Did you watch the video where they were on stage and the bass drum exploded at the end?"

"I didn't catch that one. I will have to look for it. I'm not that good with my computer plate yet."

They fell silent and then the stranger turned and looked around the mist.

"It's not that I haven't had weird dreams before, but this is like..." The skinny guy laughed to himself. "I sleep next to an alien so what do I know about weird?" The stranger turned to leave but now Sloan was interested.

"You're in a dream?"

"I'm asleep."

"I'm asleep." Sloan paused. "Next to an alien?"

"Who are you?" Now the young man turned and they both studied each other.

"My name is Sloan."

"I'm Murry."

Sloan nodded. What the hell were they both doing in the same dream? Sloan didn't even know people could do that. He frowned and then hunted for something to say. He wanted to broach the subject of... hey stranger could you come to rescue me and the ruler of the Dagerstanteens?

"Hey..." Sloan got up from his chair. "The alien you're with, how's that going?"

"His name is Keltrix. He's my boyfri— ah... What I mean is... We're..." Murry rubbed his brow. "I'm his cat." Murry laughed again. "I never get used to all the weird sentences I say now."

"The cat." Sloan's eyes went wide. "In the limo, Octnavin said that Keltrix did it with his cat. You're Keltrix's cat?" He scanned him. "You're not a fucking cat. Shit, Octnavin is a dick."

"Better not say that to his face, he'll have you whipped." Murry laughed. "That is if you could find him."

"I'm sleeping next to Octnavin."

"You know where he is?" Now Murry's eyes turned to dish plates. "You're with him? The palace is freaking out over here and Keltrix and Rhylent are losing their—"

"Shit?"

"Pretty much. Everyone is losing their minds. No one knows were JP or Octnavin went or what happened exactly."

"When you wake up will you remember this dream?" Sloan's mind raced. Maybe he could get Murry to tell everyone where they were being kept. Fuck. Now he wished he had directions or space coordinates.

"I'm starting to think this isn't a dream. We are talking through them. I was just hanging out in Kel's head for a while."

"I was in Octnavin's brain because I couldn't sleep." Sloan nodded. "The Folantos are blocking the connection between Octnavin and his siblings, but they must not have thought of two human talking."

"The Folantos?"

"Yeah. The Folantos have both Octnavin and JP in prison here. We are being kept under this big dome. It's like a huge fighting ring. Oh and the Folantos, they look like snake teenage girls with shark teeth." Sloan couldn't help his grin. Murry was right. He did say some weird crap now.

"Is Octnavin and JP okay?"

Sloan paused. He didn't want to share Octnavin's weaknesses, but he figured he had to trust this Murry guy. He didn't have a lot of other choices.

"Octnavin is starving. I don't know about JP. I haven't died recently so I haven't seen him."

"Died?"

"Never mind." Sloan groaned as he tried to think of some other information for Murry to tell Keltrix. "I don't have directions for you to get here, but maybe Keltrix will know about the Folanto's and their dogfighting. Remember to tell your alien that we are in a mud cave under a dome with glass mirrors that look like broken sunglasses."

"I got it. And I'll tell him about the teenage girls with shark teeth." Murry nodded. "I have to go." He looked around. "I don't know if we will meet like this again. I don't know how I got here."

"Me neither. It's okay." Sloan waved. "I hope that the next time I meet you it will be in person because I didn't die here."

"Keltrix will find you. He's brilliant."

Sloan took a deep breath and added 'I hope you find us soon' in his head. He was getting worried about Octnavin's weariness. No amount of fruit mush and Sloan's people-paste was going to save the alien. Octnavin was slowly starving and they both knew it. They needed help desperately.

Murry was there one minute and then vanished. Sloan stood in the fog and glanced around. The mist started to clear, and he was jarred awake.

Octavian was gone.