From the Stars?


By Alberto Pupo

This is it; this is my life in a nutshell. I never believed them when they told me I am not from around here. Denial, was my favorite policy until I broke into the storage facility and discovered the truth. Now with a gun in my hand, I contemplate whether or not to end everything.

This started two weeks ago; I had just been made the head of the police force, being the law and order type this is my chance to shine. My father had been murdered when I was but a boy (some people have whispered the star men were responsible). I never believed it for a second; I knew there were no such thing as star men. People, however, are prone to making up strange ideas especially under duress. The problem started two weeks ago during an interrogation. The perp before me, simply smiled as I was trying to shake the truth from him, making my best impression of Torquemada I threatened with everything and anything under the sun. I relished the role of inquisitor. However when I made him bleed several times he just wiped his nose and kept laughing, he said I was an idiot, and that he is nothing more than a pawn in a much larger game, he said that who wanted where the star men. That kind of response only made me break his nose, and I walked away, I thought that was the end.

Two days later while smoking outside on my patio looking to the sky, a strange vehicle rolls about. Out of the car jumps an albino looking individual dressed as the classic G-Men of yore. This almost made me laugh in their faces as they had the appearance of the infamous Men in Black. They started asking me strange questions, which I laughed off and showed them my badge. The inquisitor briefly showed me his badge it was very strange with a hologram I had never seen before on this Earth, however just as quickly as he flashed it is how fast it was back in his pocket. After a pretty intense conversation, he then left me a card with contact information in case I have seen any “Star men.”  After he drove away, I just had to go to sleep; things are getting strange. That night sleep did not come easy my dreams were full of bright humanoid creatures that seem to be jumping through the Cosmos, I was dreaming of Star Men? I awoke the next day hoping things would be different. I was wrong.

When I arrived at the station my boss (who I rarely see) was waiting outside my office, he had a look of consternation on his face and asked me where I was last night? Thinking this to be some joke my responses were flippant and lighthearted, but when he placed handcuffs on my wrist, and I was taken in for murder things got even stranger.

In the interrogation room, they came in… Dressed in black, the cold blue eyes staring me down. This time, however, the questions were different he was aggressive and hostile at one point smacking me across the face, I know he was trying to provoke me, but I could have killed him with my bare hands at the very moment. The albino in black continued with very strange questions such as

“Where are the other Star Men? Why did I murder Belinda Cross?”

None of this made any sense, and I plead with him to let me go, but he refused to and simply continue to prattle on, so then I plead the fifth just so I would not have to hear that voice, like nails on a chalkboard, it is grating and driving me to murder.

That night in my cell, I started to contemplate life and death the meaning of everything. I feel like this is all one giant setup, one of my enemies has decided to make my life a living nightmare that is it. This is a vendetta. I was furiously trying to go through a mental lists of people with enough malice to go through this, but no one seems to have a plausible reason. My thoughts that night, however, were interrupted by my cell mate, a short, man of swarthy complexion, but with liquid blue eyes that seem to glitter in the darkness. He told me that there is a reason that this is all happening and that the truth can be found in a storage facility only five blocks from the prison. I thanked him for the information but thought that it is worthless because I am here trapped in a cell while the answers lay outside.

The next morning I spoke with my lawyer asked to see if I can get temporary bail and get out of here, he told me that with the types of charges being leveled against me that it is impossible to get out of here. He told me he would get working on this right away, but naturally this is only empty chatter to keep me at ease as I get prepared to go to the gas chambers (or something as equally heinous). I needed a way out and decided that very day to go for it.  That days when the guards came by to take me out to the recreation yard, I decided this would be my moment in the blink of an eye I used all my combat skills to disarm them and force them to set me free at gun point. They complied out of fear (one of them pissed his pants), but I knew they would sound the alarms and I could not waste any more time.

I began to run faster than I ever had at some points I felt like I was faster than any man on this planet. Now I saw the place my cellmate had informed of; it is a broken down facility a large Condemned sign on the window. If this is the place, it looks like this facility is no longer in use. Upon entering through a broken window, I went inside and was hit with a musty smell that made my stomach churn… I was hoping that the foul stench was not some lethal gas or chemical and that I would not fall dead immediately upon inhaling. The deeper I walked inside the more confusing things became, I realized the place was enormous, suddenly after a few twists and turns into the dark I entered what was a massive hall of records. Things seemed to be sorted neatly and in alphabetical order, but there were names after name after name. I was wondering if this was an old government facility? Maybe this is the data they love to keep on us, the records facility that the conspiracy theorists usually touts as it existing. Following the alphabet, I finally find my section.  Jon Green, naturally there are quite a few Jon Green’s so now it becomes a trial error type of situation until there it is a folder with an old high school picture of mine as the front image.  I open the file and begin to read, and then in horror, I ended up closing it and then reopening it, each time rubbing my eyes harder to make sure that what I am reading is correct. I felt a metallic object against my ribs, and I realize I still had the gun with me. Which brings me to the moment… I could not believe what was written in that file.  The words “Not of this Earth” bold and it read further.

“Going under the alias Jon Green is what we know as a Star Man he has escaped, and his current whereabouts are unknown.”


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