The Last American

It’s not that he wasn’t stronger than them. He was. That was the problem.

It made him useful.

The Vroks were advanced. Far more than the humans could imagine. They had discovered an infinite energy supply, extracted from the core of their planet.

Unfortunately this was an advantage that put a target on their planet the moment it was discovered.

That was centuries ago, Yet even then they were ahead of other planets. They had managed to make the most out of every resource the planet had to offer.

Vrokon was different than earth, yet in some ways very similar.

For one, there was water. Never in a liquid state of course, but it was there. It had a similar gravity and atmosphere, resulting in constant blizzards and freezing wind. There are also minerals and rocks. Besides that, the only other other life besides the Vroks, native to their planet is the moss that seems to cover the rocks despite the harsh cold.

He remembered when they first took him.

The Duhrs from the Dhurzan galaxy had taken over.

He remembers the dark ships. They were so large they covered the sun, blocking any sliver of light.

He could hear his mother crying, from the kitchen, his father trying desperately to calm her yet the fear in his eyes told a different story.

The TV reporters face through the television reminding everybody to stay inside, not that it would protect us in the long run.

He wandered outside looking over the endless fields of grain to get a better glimpse of the ships, wanting an escape from the pain his parents displayed.

It’s not real! It’s not real! He screamed to himself. Thinking if he believed it enough it would be true. His legs felt shaky beneath his body

All of a sudden a Blue light streaked though the sky, hurdling closer and closer towards him. It was much smaller than the other ships. It finally crashed into the ground, an explosion ringed in his ears. He could feel the earth rumbling below him. It seemed to have crashed about a quarter mile down the road. It definitely didn’t look like one of the huge black ships looming overhead in the air.

He runs over towards the small ship. What else can I lose he thinks grimly.

Smoke rises from the bottom of the ship and a small crater is formed around it.

The ship has sharp wings and tinted black windows. Grey strips race down the back.

Slowly a panel of the ship cracks open, with a quiet click. A four fingered hand pushes open the door.

He considers running but fear immobilizes him, no matter how hard he wants to run.

The tall figure emerges towering over him, at least seven feet. His face looks humanoid except for his canines are more pronounced, and his eyes are a deep purple, not to mention paper white skin. He wears plain white robes carrying a small blaster in his hand.

That’s all Noah remembered about his final minutes on earth.

He recalls exiting the ship and entering Vrokon for the first time. Two Vroks pushed him from behind, jamming their blasters inbetween his shoulder blades, forcing him through the doors of the ship.

“Where am I?”

“Tell me where am I!” He yelled desperately.

The doors opened. He tried to breathe in. The air was suffocating, he fell onto his knees wheezing, the Vroks looked alarmed, yelling words in panic, unknown to Noah.

He lay on the ground, knowing these would likely be his last moments of life.

He inhales deeply, trying to fill his lungs yet each breath becomes harder to breathe.

He envisions his parents, his friends.

Sweat drenches his back and pain fills inside his chest. He hears another alien yelling orders to the others as he drifts out of consciousness.

The blinding light buzzes overhead. He hears the deep voices of the aliens

“Who are you?” Noah asks blinking his eyes, his vision still blurred.

He feels a mask placed over his face supplying oxygen. He is filled with relief.

He tries to sit up, only to be held back by restraints holding his wrists.

“Hey!” He yells, noticing the three aliens observing him from the side of the table.

“Where am I?”

“English?” One alien ask, with a thick accent

“Yes, yes English” Noah exclaims with excitement

“This is Vrokon. We are the Vroks. Who are You.?” He asks in a low voice

“Noah. From America.”

“America. He repeats. Your language is most different. You need learn our language.”

“Please let me go.” He asks, moving his wrists to show.

“ no can not.” He says simply.

The next day Noah wakes up to find himself being dragged by the arms down a long white hallway. He tries to yank himself free but he doesn’t have nearly enough strength.

They exit the large building and wander outside. Towers line the street and The cold burns his skin and hardly anything is visible from the constant fall of snow.

When they reach a building on the outskirts of the city the Vrok drops his arms and he collapses into a pillow of snow.

They must’ve drugged me, he decides.

He manages to sit up. The two Vrok talk to each other. The new one looks like all the others, except for his dark emerald robes rather than white. He has deep purple eyes and a pale face his height is tall, if not taller than the others.

As they talk, he glances down at Noah. Noah glares back defiantly.

The two Vroks seem to come to an agreement the emerald one hands over a coin and the white robed Vrok walks away leaving Noah alone with the new one.

He looks down at Noah and drags him to his feet.

Noah follows through the thick snow to what looks like a ginormous warehouse.

To be continued…😱😱😱 maybe.

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