I wake up with an aching back. I can feel myself being jostled around, and my feet and arms are hanging. It’s like something is carrying me over its shoulder. Something big and solid.

I think of the teal, horned alien that took Alice away. The scary green ones wouldn’t carry me on their shoulders, they’d probably just drag me by the hair.

I open my eyes, but I see nothing. Panic flashes through me, and I look around frantically. I feel something brush against my nose as I turn my head–some type of fabric. So, I have a bag over my head, I’m not blind.

Whatever is carrying me is walking fast. Each time it takes a step, pain shoots through my back. I’m tempted to just flail around so that the alien drops me. Then–maybe–I can just jump up and run as fast as my legs will carry me. What is the likelihood I can outrun an alien that is nearly 7 feet tall? Maybe this one is shorter and weaker than the one who took Alice, but even if he were, I can feel how fast he’s walking, and my back is hurting bad enough I won’t even be able to run very fast.

I decide to wait, and listen. It might be better for me if he doesn’t now I’m awake.

I feel something move across my legs. It’s a dull feeling, like someone touching me through three layers of winter clothes, but it definitely feels like a hand.

Then, suddenly, that hand is on my ankle, and it moves up to my thigh. It squeezes my thigh. It’s a big hand, and its grip is strong. As it squeezes my thigh, I feel warmth radiating out from that solid grip, but it’s not skin-to-skin, I’m wearing some kind of skin-tight layer beneath whatever thicker layer is covering me.

I feel my heart pounding. He’s just doing that to get a better grip...or–

The hand slides up and squeezes my ass.

Now I flail. And fall.

As I fall, the cloth covering me falls away. I see a field of stars spinning as I fall. I hit the ground on my back, looking up at the stars as the wind is knocked out of me. Cold lashes at me as my eyes tear up, and I swear I feel the tears starting to freeze on my cheek.

Then the alien leans forward, his head popping into my blurred vision.

“You’re awake,” he says.

It’s dark, but the snow is reflecting enough starlight that I can just make out his face. He has deep purple eyes, and large horns on top of his head.

He reaches down, grabs me by the arms, and pulls me up, hoisting me back over his shoulder.

I kick him this time, and he ignores it. He throws the cloth back over me, and I dig my nails into his bare back.

This time he throws me down, and I land face-first in the snow. I spin around and sit up, worried he’s going to him me.

Instead he just stares down at me, with one eyebrow raised. He’s wearing some kind of weird gas mask, so I can’t see his mouth, but I can tell just from his eyes that he’s smirking at me.

“What the hell?” I hiss.

“It seems you did not want me to carry you,” he says.

“So, you throw me?” I shout up at him.

“Would you like me to help you up again?” He asks.

His voice sounds strange, but it’s probably because he’s talking to me through a big mask covering his entire mouth.

“No,” I say, sliding through the snow away from him. “I’ll get up on my own.”

I stand and glare at him, but I notice his eyes just widen and probe me up and down. I look down at myself, and see that the “clothes” I’m wearing is some kind of tight bodysuit. It’s so tight that it looks like I’m naked, but wearing teal body paint. It seems to insulate me very well, as the numbing cold on my face barely touches the rest of my body. Still, my nipples are pointing out hard, and the alien is staring wide-eyed at them.

“They are so large,” he says, pointing out toward my nipple.

I stare at him aghast. Did he really just say that?

Then I notice he’s moving toward me, with two fingers now, as if he’s about to pinch me right on the nipple.

I slap his hand and jump backward. “No! You do not grab my butt. You do not touch me. Give me that thing!”

I point at the big cloth.

“Turn around,” he says. “I want to see your backside.”

I tear the big cloth out of his hand, and I wrap it tightly around my body. I pull it up so it covers my mouth and nose as well, leaving just a thin strip exposed to the elements.

He reaches out toward me, as if he’s going to tear the cloth away, but then he shakes his head. “They said you were weak, so I will allow you to keep it.”

“Allow me?” I ask. “Weak?”

“You cannot handle this cold,” he says.

He’s wearing nothing but a freaking loincloth, and his nipples aren’t pointing out. I’m not weak, he’s just freakishly resistant to cold.

I point to his mask. “You’re weak too.”

His eyes flash with anger. “You are a weapon. Your scent is dangerous to us.”

The one from the ship didn’t have a mask on. Is that why he went crazy and took Alice away? I’d keep giving him shit about how weak he is to wear a mask, but I’m afraid he might take it off and go ballistic on me.

I look around, seeing nothing but snow and stars. Far in the distance, I see a big black shape that might be a mountain.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“The Dark Night,” he says.

No shit.

“Is it warmer in the day?” I ask.

“The day is very far from here,” he says, “But we will go to Twilight. That is, if you walk instead of standing here talking. Or should I carry you?”

He moves as if he’s about to grab me, but I jump back. “I will walk.”

He nods, and then he starts to walk. I stay a few steps behind me, not feeling safe even if he’s at my side.

“You said day is far away,” I say to his back. “How long?”

“I told you,” he says. “We will go to Twilight.”

“When,” I say, drawing the word out and really enunciating each syllable. Then I try to spell the word out, and I realize with sudden horror that I’m not speaking English.

I hold a hand over my mouth and stop walking, my eyes wide with fear.

He turns around and shakes a hand at me. “Come on!”

“How the hell…” I whisper, really listening to the sounds coming out of my mouth. A completely strange language I’ve never heard. It sounds like nothing I’ve ever heard, not like Russian, not like Swahili, not like Spanish or English or Greek. Completely alien, and it’s coming right out of my mouth as if I were born speaking it.

“If you perish in the cold,” he says, “My clan is doomed. I got you instead of gold, and you will not even allow me to look at your large breasts and sharp nipples, and now you are slowing me down. I will carry you if you don’t–”

“Please,” I shout. “Please, do you understand what I’m going through? I was driving…”

I realize a guy in a loincloth probably doesn’t know what “driving” means, even if I’m speaking his language.

“I was…” I say. “I was on my planet, then a spaceship abducted me, then some scary green aliens attacked me, and I woke up on your shoulder. Is it really too much to ask that you–”

I see him move, and before I have time to even think of running, he grabs me. He tears the cloth away, and for a moment I’m terrified he’s going to touch me all over, but instead he wraps the thing around me like a burrito, and then he throws me over his shoulder. I try to struggle, but he’s holding me wrapped tight against him, the cloth swaddling me like an oversized baby, my head popping out the top this time.

“I will answer your questions,” he says, “But we must keep moving.”

My back actually feels better already. Walking and moving around on my own–or maybe being thrown onto the ground–worked the kinks out of it. I give up trying to struggle and just let him carry me.

“Your name,” I say.

“Demian,” he says. “Demian of the Twilight Clan.”

“What does that mean?” I ask. “The Twilight Clan?”

“You get one free question,” he says, “You used it on my name. Any new question you ask, you must answer one of mine after. Ask wisely, as I will not be gentle with my questions.”

What the hell? Did I seriously get taken to an alien world only to play a game from high school with a horny, asshole alien?

“Okay,” I say. “Scratch that last question then. Instead I will ask...What are you going to do with me?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” He says. “My turn. What is–”

“Wait,” I shout. “Not fair! If you give me non-answers like that, then I’ll do the same thing back. Tell me what you’re thinking of at least.”

“Fine,” he says. “We might use you as a weapon, but I’d prefer to sell you for gold.”

“Sell me,” I say, “Who would you–”

“It’s not your turn yet,” he says, cutting me off. “My question: I was told you have a hole for my spear. Where is this hole?”

“Your spear?” I ask, feeling fear pulse through me.

“It’s not your turn yet,” he says.

“I can’t answer your question if I don’t know what your spear is,” I say. “A spear could put a hole into me anywhere you want.”

“Not that kind of spear,” he says, sounding frustrated, “The spear between my legs.”

Jesus. In the back of my mind I had a fear he was talking about that, almost hoping he meant the other kind of spear. Does he seriously not know what a freaking vagina is?

“Do you not have women on this planet or something?” I ask.

“You are not good at this game, woman.”

“My name is Amber.”

“Tell me about the hole, Amber, and then I may answer you.”

* * *

The game seems to go on for several hours, during which I learn a lot about this world. Basically, none of it is good.

The sun is dying of old age, so it’s dim and red. The planet rotates in such a way that the same part is always facing the sun, which is why Demian said we were “very far from the day.” If we were to stay put right where we are, it would be night forever. If we travelled far enough, it would be daytime forever. The “daylight forever” part is where the capital is.

I asked him if we shouldn’t go there, since it sounds nicest, but he assured me the Emperor is very evil, and a lying cheat. He assures me that Twilight is the nicest part of the planet, though I can’t help but think he’s biased, since his name is “Demian of the Twilight Clan.”

Also, I’m apparently his property, or the clan’s property. It was the Emperor’s Clan who abducted me, because only the Emperor has stuff like spaceships. Everyone else gets to make do with spears and wagons and other primitive stuff, while the Emperor has stuff we couldn’t even dream of on Earth. I was given as payment in lieu of gold, which sucks for me, because Demian was not happy about that.

This all, of course, took me 40 or 45 questions to tease out of him. He has a way of giving me very curt answers that only answer specifically what I asked.

And astonishingly, he’s learned very little about me, well...a lot about one specific part of me.

“When you say self-lubricating,” he says, “How does the va-gi-na know when to lubricate, or does it always remain lubricated?”

“Put me down,” I snap.

“Answer the question, and–”

“Demian! Put me down. Now.”

He puts me down and looks at me with impatience.

“The game is over,” I say. “Not that this is a date, but when two humans go on a date, they usually ask questions to each other during the course of a pleasant evening.”

“I am taking out to Twilight,” he says. “A pleasant evening. So, this is a date?”

“No,” I say. “It’s not, and do you know why?”

He shakes his head.

“If I were on a date with a guy, and all he wanted to know about me is vivid details about my vagina, I’d probably slap him in the face and walk out on him.”

“You tried to hit me,” he says, “It was ineffective.”

“Listen,” I say. “You learned enough, okay?”

“You never asked about our women,” he says.

“From you having like 50 questions about my pussy, I can assume your women don’t have them.”

He nods.

“The point is,” I say. “Can we just talk to each other like normal people? Don’t ask me such personal stuff, and let’s just see where the conversation takes us?”

“You may ask about my spear,” he says, pointing down to his loincloth.

I smile, but bite my lip to cover it. “That’s okay,” I say. “Maybe later.”

“I can show you,” he says, “Perhaps we can both show–”

Now I do laugh. So, we went from high school to Kindergarten.

“I’m okay,” I say. “Let’s just get to Twilight, yeah? But I’m tired, and I need to rest.”

“It’s better if we keep going.”

“Please,” I say. “Remember how you said I’m weak? That means I need to actually sleep.”

“I will make a fire,” he says. “Do you need food?”

I touch my stomach then, realizing just how hungry I am. I nod.

“Then I will provide us food,” he says. “I am skilled with the spear.”

I suddenly imagine him using his dick to hunt. “You mean the other kind of spear now, right?”

He reaches toward his loincloth, and I wince, worried he’s going to whip his dick out. Instead, he pulls a very short and stubby spear out of a holster on his leg. Then he flicks it, and it extends out to something longer than I am tall.

“Oh,” I say, sighing relief.

“This is the skullspear,” he says. “Can you guess why we call it that?”

“Does it poke through skulls?”

His eyes light up, and I can only assume he’s smiling beneath the mask.

* * *

I sit by the fire, feeling both relieved that Demian is off hunting, but also scared that I’m alone for the first time on this alien world.

I don’t know why I compared anything to a date. Is it just because his body looks good? Because his total lack of shame comes off–entirely coincidentally–as flirting? Maybe I’m trying to imagine it’s a date to keep it all within some familiar frame of reference. If I start to think about what it all really is, I might realize that it’s nothing short of a total nightmare.

“We might use you as a weapon,” he had said.

I was afraid to ask him what that meant. I’ve tried not to think about it.

I look out over the darkness, the cloth wrapped tight around me. I’ve had time to examine it now, and it seems like some kind of advanced synthetic fiber. It must be “Emperor Clan” technology, which Demian explained to me isn’t really something the Emperor can make. It’s just advanced artifacts the Emperor Clan controls, but cannot reproduce. The cloth keeps me warm, as does the strangely tight suit I’m wearing beneath it. There are small little bushes, barely more than twigs that reach up to my knees. Demian used these to build the fire, which I stare at as I drift off to sleep.

I wake up to the smell of cooking meat. Demian is squatted next to the fire, and he’s holding two large sticks skewered with meat.

“That smells good,” I whisper.

“I can’t smell it through the mask,” he says.

“Oh,” I say, sitting up. “How...are you going to eat?”

“We will have to eat separately,” he says.

“What kind of animal is this?” I ask.

“Snow bunny,” he says.

“Bunny?” I ask, feeling a bit sick to my stomach. I know a lot of people eat rabbit, but…

“Yes,” he says. “Big ears, soft fur.”

Just like on Earth. “We keep them as pets,” I say.

He tilts his head at me in confusion.

“You know,” I say. “Like in our houses? For company? Kids like them.”

“Children on your planet must be fearless,” he says.

“Because they like bunnies?” Now I’m confused.

“Yes,” he says. “This one shot its stink glands at me, and if not for the mask, it would have paralyzed me. Then it lunged at me, trying to inject its venom into me through its fangs, but my skullspear struck true, and I skewered it in mid-air.”

“Stink glands?” I ask. “Fangs? You sure it’s a bunny.”

He nods.

I really listen to myself pronouncing the word. The alien word. It’s easy to forget that I’m not speaking English. A bunny is probably not really a bunny, and that will be true of any animals we talk about. I guess the way this language was inserted into my brain has its limits.

“I recommend chewing the bones,” he says. “The most delicious part.”

He throws a pile of bones onto the snow in front of me, then slaps the greasy, bloody meat into my palm.

“Thanks…” I say.

He stalks off into the night again, holding his own meat and bones.

I nibble at the meat, feeling relatively disgusted at just how bloody it is, and how the blood drips all over my hands and face as I eat. No plates, no silverware, just holding the entire meal in my hand and gnawing at it. I realize then that Demian is basically a caveman. When I think of all the invasive questions he asked me about my “hole” earlier, it makes it feel less bad if I imagine him as a completely clueless caveman, like Brendan Fraser in Encino Man. Or maybe he’s a barbarian, that’s a few steps above caveman.

The meat tastes good, mostly because I’m hungry. When I finish eating it, I don’t touch the bones. I’m pretty sure my teeth would break if I tried.