no rest for the wicked

Title: No Rest for the Wicked

Author: Darkstryder

Category: S, A

Summary: Precarious this thing called man,
so dependent on who defines him.

Disclaimer: Don't sue! I'm a starving artist!
All herein belong to Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen
unless created by my own twisted mind.

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my 'shipper/angster site:

https://members.tripod.com/~Darkstryder/index-2.html
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...no rest for the wicked
..darkstryder

Allo?

Anyone home?

No, I s'pose not. Hunh. Damn, I'm hungry. Whada's
it take to get some service in this thing?

Ah, well, I can always nibble on . . . you. Ha! Ha!
Whoops, sorry, I've had too much to drink.

Ahem.

Ah, yes, my dear, open those purty eyes of yours.

Ack! Will ya shuddup? By the Gods, I swear, you guys
are *loud*. No, stop screaming. Stop screaming. Shhh.
I'm not going to hurt you.

Yet.

Ha! I've always wanted to say that.

Jeeze, I was kidding. Quiet down. I have sensitive
ears.

Whada mean, what ears?!? These! So I don't have those
big flaps of skin like you do.

Where are you? Weeellll . . . you are . . . here.
Yeah, kinda cool, ain't it? If I didn't live
here I'd be in awe.

And you are because . . . well, because. I dunno.
For some reason They found you and handed you off to
me.

They? Them. THEM. You know.

Ah, I see you do. I'm a very observant person.

Betcha can't tell I'm a shrink.

Nah, most can't. I'm not offended. Anywhose, They want
me to pump information from that piece of pink meat
between your ears.

What's your name? Hunh. Weird. You humans are screwy.
Who in the right mind would name their kid that?

That's your what? What's a last name? You guys have two
names? *Three*?!? Yikes. That's . . . weird.

My name? Bob. Ha! I'm kidding again.

That's enough drinkie for me, I do believe.

Djin. My name's Djin. Head Master Psychologist Djin,
to be precise. It means meteor shower or something.
What's yours mean? Nothing? Well. Odd.

Back to business. If you play nice maybe I'll unstrap you.

Yeah, I know. What a privilege. And I'm using *extreme*
sarcasm here. You couldn't escape if you wanted to,
buddy.

Ahem.

So, what ex ---

Will you *please* stop looking at me like that? Uh-huh. And
you're certainly a beauty queen. So I'm thin and short and
bluish-grayish. I think the color name is *periwinkle*.

Whatever.

So, what ex ---

Damn! You're annoying! Anyone ever tell you that? Here,
lemme ---

Fine. I'm leaving. I'll come back later, when you've had time
to cool off, so to speak. And, man, am I *hungry*.

So, who's the babe?

You forget that we're a lot more advanced than you. We took it
from your mind. Whoooo. Ha! Nah. Actually, They told us about
her.

Nice name. Better than *yours*.

She's funny-looking. Well, all you guys are funny-looking.
But she really cuts the cake.

Yeah, well, same to you. And the name's Djin, not Jenny.

Her hair's a pretty color. Reminds me of mysta flowers back home.
I had planted a garden of them outside my dorm before I was
whisked away for this mission. Red-gold like the sunset.

Uh, here. Lemme adjust that for you.

These things are actually used to induce fear. There's really
no purpose for them whatsoever. They do it 'cause people
take one look at them and get so scared they shit their pants.

Oh, wait, you're naked. Sorry.

Why do you keep looking at me like you wanna rip my head off?
I'm here to *help* you.

Or so it says on this here pamphlet. They're really quite helpful.
People usually calm down after reading them. D'you want the one
on anal or mind probes?

No, I'm not serious.

S'okay . . . back to mind-sucking.

What exactly do you know?

You know what I'm talking about. What you've seen over the last
couple years. What you've learned. What They've revealed to you.

Not all of it's true, you know. Trust no one.

You've heard it? Hey! They got it from us.

Answer the question.

Please?

Not good. Not good at all.

I can hurt you. I don't like to, but I can. Besides, by
now you're getting hungry and we don't have much food
around here for humans. None that you won't puke up in four
or five hours, anyway.

Sigh.

Listen, there's really nothing to lose by telling us. I
mean, seriously, only bad things can happen if you don't.
If you do we'll let you go and you can walk free and go back
to that mysta flower-haired woman with glass doll eyes and
make a bunch of uber-humans.

What's *that* look for?

Fine. Be that way.

This drug I'm putting into your system will leave you screaming
for a few hours. Sorry, but it must be done.

I be back.

This thing is . . . a computer.

It carries all our files in it, as well as an a program that links
computers all over the galaxy. I can write home and say hi to my
friends.

And it's convenient 'cause it's really small and I can carry it
easily.

See, here's your file. You wouldn't be able to read it. Here's your
image and certain . . . samples . . . and your height, weight, and
all that shit. Eye color. Hair color.

I'm glad I didn't have to do all that. Paperwork. Yuck.

We also look for DNA samples and see if you're related to anyone
else that we've done this to, or one of Them. Boy, do you have a
weird family.

Think about the question yet? Considering answering?

Uh . . . let's compromise: I'll tell you about me and you tell me
about yourself. Deal?

You first.

I don't have a lot of early memories. Not many of us do. In
a world where you either kill or be killed, we simply act
on instinct, you know? 'Course, it brings a lot of nightmares.

I wanted to be a shrink 'cause I like studying the mind. Including
aliens'. Hey, to me, *you're* the aliens. So how does it feel to be
called that? Not nice, is it. It does quite a number on your
self-esteem when you realize that humans consider you nothing but
objects to use for merchandise and joke around about.

Abductions are fun.

Ha!

You should see the looks on the people's faces when they realize
that what's looking over them with liquid-black eyes and
*periwinkle* skin isn't one of them. You can almost taste their
fear. We only abduct a few certain individuals a year, your
military does the rest. But what we do is horrible.

And you wonder why I drink.

Yeah, her file is here. So's the mysta flower-haired woman's, too.

You seem surprised about hers. Oh, we have records of what your
government has done. They're very . . . extensive.

Have some more *un*happy-juice. Hmm. I feel for you, I really do,
but this is my *job*.

Did anyone ever tell you that your face screws up in a most
unattractive way when you scream?

Back to the Question of the Day.

Question. Answer. The. Question.

Think freedom . . . beautiful freedom . . .

Hey! Calling me names won't help.

You have to be the most stubborn man I've ever come across. Most
people would be screaming at me to make it stop and agree to our
demands right now, on account of the fire-liquid that's pumping
through your veins.

I know *I* wouldn't last this long.

Oh, look, you've passed out from the pain.

Hmm. Maybe I should wait until you wake up again.

Just so I can ask you the question, mind you.

Not like I'm beginning to feel some affection towards you.

No, siree, Bob.

I really wish you'd answer the question.

I got called in by Them today. They wanted an update on your . . .
condition.

They weren't pleased the least bit. I'm going to be in a lot of
trouble if you don't cooperate.

Well ---

Hey!

Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Freaky.

I know it hurts. That's the point. Duh. I'll loosen the straps
some more. Damn, naked humans are uggg-ly. You have soft skin
though. Oooh. And such a purty color. Like milk.

Eh . . .

I'm suddenly hungry again. I wonder if They'd notice if you show up
with only one arm.

Now that I've got your attention, let's talk. Since my last question
was a bit confusing, They told me to phrase it like this.

Ahem.

"What is the Truth?"

Yeah, capitol T. Wow. Heavy stuff.

So?

Will you please stop talking in these riddles?

What does that mean, "the Truth is out there?"

Out where? Is it something you can touch? Something you can
feel? Is it one answer that will solve the great question of
everything? One final truth that will make everything clear so you
can die happy? One truth? There's no such thing, buddy. I mean, the
truth is different for everyone. What it is for you it isn't for
someone else.

Or is that just something you tell yourself so you have an excuse
to pull yourself out of bed in the morning and go to a thankless
job where you spend your life chasing after something that isn't
there?

Or am I just projecting?

Damn you, I need another drink.

I told Them what you said. The Truth is out there. I think they
were amused. I dunno. They scare me.

You know, my life used to be a lot simpler until I met you, and you
hardly even talk.

I have to increase the unhappy-juice. Sorry. But I need a more
definite answer than "the Truth is out there." Life just doesn't
work that way. Come on, pal, don't you want to go back to your
mysta flower-haired princess?

So, whaddya say?

How can I be sure They'll let you out? Well, because . . .
because . . .

You really piss me off.

Hey, wake up. I'm not done talking to you yet. They want answers.
Just give up and everything will be fine. No more juice, lots of
food, your mysta flower-haired woman, a home . . . That's more than
I have. You should consider yourself lucky.

On second thought, don't.

When you die I'm going to feed for a week off your dead carcass,
you know. You look tasty. Does your princess think so?

Yeah, I know I'm a sick bastard. It's in the job discription.

I just thought of something. Why do They want these answers *now*?
You've been doing this for a while. I mean, They should have gotten you
up here years ago. Then maybe you could frustrate someone else. Ha!
But it *is* weird, you have to consider that. Very weird.

Says the man talking to an unconscious human.

Great. How many drinks did I have today?

Anywhose, you depress the hell out of me, so I'm going.
There's plenty of other humans for me to get information from.
Some guy named Alex is in the next room.

Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.

The Truth, you say, is something that no one has jurisdiction over.

.10

The Truth, you say, is the only pure thing that remains of a world
of false hopes and bitter lies.

.11

The Truth, you say, is the only thing that can save us.

.12

Allo?

Anyone home?

No, I s'pose not.

You don't make me hungry.

Your skin is dry and rough. Your hair is curled and gold. Your
lips are thin and pale. Your body is thick and strong.

Ah, yes, my dear, open those purty eyes of yours. Blown-glass ones,
like the ocean.

You don't scream very loudly.

Shhh. Stop screaming. I'm not going to hurt you.

On second thought, maybe I will.

Where are you? Weeellll . . . you are . . . here. And this is,
quite frankly, hell.

What's your name?

Your name is an unpleasent buzz against my tongue.

They've given you to me so that I can pump out information from that
pink piece of meat between your ears.

What fun.