Tony Bradford

Slumbering Siren

I’d been newly stationed on one of the orbiting military satellite bases when the warning signal was sent out. A large unidentified vessel had been picked up on the radar, slowly approaching the earth's atmosphere. The control center at the main space station had attempted to make contact with the approaching vessel, but no one responded to their call. Since the vessel was closest to our post, we went to investigate. We would have to take the stealth pod and board the thing ourselves. The pod only fit four soldiers, so Smiley, Hickson, Loverboy, and I were assigned to the task. We carried the new high-caliber pulse rifles with us, special issue—our first real mission.

We sat with chins touching our knees due to the limited space, but the pod got us there quick. We saw the large foreign craft through the window below, constructed of eccentric shapes and angles, an architectural style I'd never seen.

"Land us at a good spot," I said to Loverboy at the controls. "See that hatch down there?" I pointed. He eased us down, hovering above the hatch. The vacuum tunnel extended out and attached itself to the craft.

"We're on solid," said Loverboy. "Go for it, Cap."

I climbed out of my seat and crawled over Smiley and Hickson to the back of the pod and turned the wheel to open the pod hatch. When I climbed in the vacuum tunnel and closed the hatch behind me, I was weightless. I floated to the smooth side of the craft and with the heat drill in my helmet I cut my way through the strange metal and kicked it in.

It clattered against metal somewhere in the darkness beyond. I turned on my visor flashlight as I held to the edge of the hole and looked down into the dark, eerily empty ship. I dropped to the metal walkway not far below then buzzed in with the comm-link on my visor. "I'm in," I said into the headset.

Hickson, Smiley and Loverboy followed, one at a time. Once we were all in, I went ahead with caution, my rifle tightly at my side as I led us through shadowy corridors. The interior walls arched to one side, creating an odd sense of walking diagonally. The halls were more like tunnels, narrow and curvy. We meandered through the vessel like cells, turning so many rights and lefts it felt like a maze.

Before we knew it, we'd reached the end. We had entered a large open space-- a wide chamber somewhere deep in the ship's interior. Looking out from where we stood, we saw her: perfection. The most beautiful creature I'd ever seen, captured from a fairy tale, it seemed--her naked body elevated above us, locked in a sealed transparent capsule against the wall.

All along the floor in front of her, along the walls around her: writing in an obscure foreign hand glowed with light, and though the markings were unfamiliar, it was clear what they were. Numbers and equations, scrawled sporadically, as if the hand that had written it was toying with endless ratios and possibilities.

The three of us stared in awe, speechless. The pale beauty floated in liquid beyond the glass, eyes closed, sleeping peacefully. Loverboy broke our silent gaze.

"I have to touch her. She's so fucking beautiful."

He walked further into the chamber, closer to the beauty, like one entranced. None of us said a word. We all wanted to touch her. We all watched as Loverboy clung onto a beam jutting randomly from the wall and started climbing, grabbing onto jagged beams that stuck out almost vulgarly here and there in no discernible pattern. The wall was like jagged stones at the bottom of a cliff. He pulled himself onto the platform in front of the capsule and slowly touched both hands against the glass as he stared into it, at the beauty, and at his own reflection inside her. He touched the glass as if he could feel on the other side.

The capsule must have been heat sensitive. His touch made it light up, a soft bluish white gently pulsating light. The liquid in the capsule drained rapidly. Her fluttering black hair floated down upon her shoulders like tangled wet vines as the solution around her receded. Soon she stood in an empty vial, glistening with a supernatural glow, the liquid dripping off of her naked, perfect body.

Loverboy had removed his hands from the glass. He was too close to perfection to turn away. The glass slid apart, opening horizontally. He paused, stiff for a moment, then inched forward, tentatively. He reached out his hand, hesitant, as if trying to pull it back. He couldn’t. His hand touched a stiff wet breast.

A shudder of envious rage rushed through me—a strange moment. I glanced over to see Smiley and Hickson biting their bottom lips. We all looked at each other, then looked away, embarrassed. Something was different—a pair of eyes had opened, gorgeous eyes, the color of a star spontaneously combusting. The eyes peered through Loverboy like he wasn't even there.

By the time I realized it was happening, it was too late. Not that it would've mattered. When I tried to yell, my voice caught in my throat, trapped. I watched as a slender arm lifted Loverboy off the ground by his coat collar. His feet dangled. The other arm impaled him through the chest like he was nothing more than dough. Guts leaked from the back of the wound. The hand reached through the hole in Loverboy's back, clutching a bloody mass that was his heart. Then, the arm was removed, bloody now, a shocking contrast of blackish red and pale white.

Someone pissed their pants. I couldn't tell which one of us it was.

Loverboy hurtled violently to the deck, bouncing, thudding like a rubber doll. A childish laugh echoed through the dark chamber as the monstrosity leapt onto the deck near us with a heavy thud, much heavier than a human body could make. The floor shook beneath us. She turned her head mechanically, staring at us for a moment, and I saw her beauty up close.

Her beauty was utterly frightening—more frightening than death, something demonic and grotesque. I looked closely at her eyes looking back at me. They were a child's eyes. She laughed again, childishly—maniacally—then came for us.

We fired repeatedly. Bullets and lasers ripped off pieces of skin from her jaw and neck, but she kept laughing—walking toward us. We kept firing and sparks showered us as they struck her.

She lifted Hickson by his rifle—he wouldn’t let go—and slammed him to the ground, loudly breaking one of his legs. Quickly, she whirled, struck me across the face, and sent me flying back several yards. I lay there, believing my jaw had been broken for sure. I'd never been hit so hard. As I faded, all I could hear was that cackling girlish laughter, the laugh of a brainless killer.

When I awoke, trails of blood led from where my men last stood. Loverboy's body lay sprawled dead yards away. The murderous beauty was nowhere in sight.

I pulled myself to my feet, using my rifle for support. Gunfire sounded beyond the chamber entrance, deep in the corridors. Faintly, I could hear men screaming.

Then, all was silent.

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