First Taste: Part I
Friday Fix
It began with teeth splitting skin, then sinking into the pale flesh beneath…
Hello there. I am an alien. I have abducted you.
Please don’t be alarmed.
First of all, welcome to my home. Well, my home away from home.
It’s cozy, right? A pretty fireplace, two comfy chairs, and a handsome host — if I do say so myself.
I’m hoping you’ll find the décor to your liking. Just so you know, it took me a while to arrange all this for my very special guest.
That’s you, by the way. You’re the guest.
You know, if it wasn’t clear.
Okay, so, you should know that you are in absolutely no danger whatsoever. And you’re definitely not trespassing. Just the opposite. You are very welcome here. Being able to host you like this? It’s actually a great honour for me.
I know you’ve got questions — so why don’t we get the big stuff out of the way first?
No, I am not one of those evil, one-note extraterrestrials you humans so love to speculate about. And, no, I don’t take any offence to those depictions. I love all those alien invasion flicks. I mean, I’ve seen Alien, War of the Worlds, The Day the Earth Stood Still, and Edge of Tomorrow (which Emily Blunt was great in, incidentally) and I found them to be an absolute riot. Seriously.
What I’m trying to say here is that I adore humanity. I’m a huge fan.
See, I have this ability to look back through human history. Since I woke up, I’ve been using it quite liberally. And, I have to say, I’ve grown to love just about everything about you.
For instance, the way you guys furrow your tiny brows when you’re upset, or the way you lean into one another and mash your lips together, or even those tiny trails of mucus that leak out of your noses whenever you’re sick. It’s all so insanely cute.
But you specifically are special to me. That’s why, of all the humans who have ever lived, I chose you for this little excursion.
Am I coming on too strong? I’m sorry if I am.
It’s just — you suddenly seem a little unsteady on your feet.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, I can’t imagine how this must seem from your perspective. One moment, you’re enjoying a delicious snack. The next, you’re suddenly transported to my sitting room, conversing with some bizarre extraterrestrial who’s absolutely infatuated with you.
If I were in your position, I guess I’d be weak in the knees too.
Here, come have a seat… once you’ve rested those legs, I’ll tell you why I brought you here…
For the record, the feather-stuffed armchair you’re now sitting in actually belonged to Winston Churchill. I really don’t mean to brag, here, but you should also know that it was his favourite seat at Chartwell. All those memorable speeches he delivered? He wrote them while sitting right where you’re sitting. I genuinely think you could chalk the Allied victory up to that very chair.
Everything in this room is an item of significance. I’ve visited a lot of corners of human history and taken what I needed. It’s important to me that we have a place where we can converse, where you will feel at ease, and which ultimately celebrates humanity.
When designing this fireside, for example, I was strongly inspired by the Brontë parsonage sitting room, as well as by various rooms at Hauteville, at Sanssouci, and, of course, Balmoral. And I’m especially proud of those magisterial curtains to your right. For the moment, they’ll remain drawn — but they were actually lifted from Saint Petersburg’s Winter Palace.
Just look at the gold brocade embroidered into the material. Doesn’t it add such character?
Oh, right. Yes. Back to why you’re here. Thanks for keeping me on track.
Look, I have a proposal for you: I want you to take a little trip with me. Let’s call it a tour.
On this tour, I’ll be showing you some of my humble observations of humanity. I want you to see your species through my eyes. And I think you’ll find this perspective more than a little… enlightening.
The choice is entirely yours, of course. I only brought you here to make you this proposal. If you say no, I’ll immediately return you to where you were. No biggie.
With that said, it’s not an offer I make every day. Or ever.
Oh? You’re interested?
I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that. You can consider me pleasantly unsurprised. You are a curious one, after all. If you weren’t, I suppose you wouldn’t be here in the first place.
Ah. You’ve noticed my snacks, have you? I thought you might. I can hear your stomach growling. Well, not hear, per se. I don’t actually hear the way you do.
But I know you’ve got quite an appetite.
By all means, tuck in. I brought them for you… I know they’re a recent favourite of yours…
While you eat, I wonder if I might direct your eyes toward my fireplace. It’s quite nice, isn’t it? The mirror set above it actually belonged to dear Jeanne Antoinette Poisson, but that’s not why I’m showing it to you now.
Do you see the plaque on the mantel? Just there?
I don’t know whether you can make out the words inscribed on it, but I know you can’t read them. The words are in Latin, you see — and I haven’t taught you the language yet.
Just so you know, the plaque reads: Flamma alenda est. Or, “the flame must be fed.”
Let’s call that a personal motto of mine. Plus, it’s kind of the theme of the tour.
But we don’t have to get into all that just yet. I can see that your eyelids are getting heavy.
That’s only natural. It’s warm and you’ve just eaten… of course you’d be getting drowsy. I’m sure all you want to do right now is curl up and enjoy a nice little snooze — and here I am, nattering on like an idiot.
It’s okay. Seriously. This has all been pretty taxing on you. You’ve more than earned a nap.
When you wake up, our tour will bring us to Victor Frankenstein himself! Just something to look forward to.
Until then, sleep tight.
Thank you for reading the first entry of this five-part series!
To be continued next Friday…