First Approach


Daniel was really getting on my nerves.

I glared at him angrily as he questioned the girl while she stared at us with wide, fearful eyes. He didn't have to be so harsh, it would only give her all the more reason not to communicate with us.

"Gee, Daniel, give the girl a break. She's obviously been on a long journey. What if she doesn't even speak English?"

I probably should not have told them anyway, at least not Daniel. He always liked to take matters into his own hands, since he was the oldest. But being thirty-two years old does not make him the leader of the crew. And sure, he's interrogated a lot of different people and gotten answers out of them but this wasn't one such case.

I averted my stare away from his back and to meet her gaze. She was looking at me, her lower lip trembling then suddenly, a painful shriek rang through my mind and I winced sharply, bringing my hands to my forehead. I cannot speak!

My eyes whipped back to meet hers and she recognized the pained expression on my face, hope showing in her eyes. Until her own gaze dropped down lower and she screamed. And this time, she did it aloud.

It was a short yet bloodcurling sound. She shook in absolute fear, pushing herself off to a far corner of the room as she stared up at us with a complete terror-stricken look. She was scared.

"Christ, what the hell was that for?" Daniel muttered, backing up.

I didn't answer, staring at her, speechless. The first scream still rung through my head, the memory echoing. I had the strong urge that it had been her trying to communicate with me. Yet I wasn't sure. Daniel hadn't heard it. It had only been me.

"Should we take her with us? Or just leave her back in her vessel?"

For the first Daniel was asking me, unsure of what to do himself. Again, with silence as a response, he got fed up and left the room, closing the door behind him as he went along. I heard him mutter, "Maybe he'll bring out results." But I wasn't betting on it.

I watched her slowly, trying not to scare her as I moved closer. But with every step that I took, she seemed to cringe, her shaking growing even more violent. Her eyes weren't fixed on my face but on my belt. I stopped for a second and looked down to see my gun hung securely in its case. Is that what she's afraid of?

I looked back at her and my doubts were confirmed. Fingers tightening around the metal, I took the gun out and she whimpered.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I whispered, setting the gun on the floor and kicking it far aside from me.

She watched this, a surprised expression crossing her face.

I hoped to myself that as I tried to communicate with her, she wouldn't do anything bizarre of her own.

The End

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