Down to Earth (Open)

Entry into the atmosphere was no easy feat. Though, his mind was muddled with more options and opinions than he could handle, chose to go with instinct. Grabbing hold of a piece of the shuttle as he disembarked the ship, pulled with all of his might, all of the muscles in his body working towards one goal, to bend the metal around himself. A part of him knew he would die, felt he would die, if he was caught coming through the atmosphere with nothing but his outer layers of skin, he was surprised he could even survive in open space as long as he had. He tugged and pulled, the alloy gave way and he closed it onto himself like a door. It got hot. Everything went black.

Then, it was suddenly cool. Water rushed at the metal from outside. He could feel its pressure against the part of him that was still exposed. How could he have lived? The temperatures of entering a planet.. Where was he?.. Earth. How did he know that?.. "What about my parents, my wife?" a thought hit him, the voice was much clearer than the others. Neel was speaking, one of the astronauts that now made up his body. A part of him could empathize with him, but a stronger part pushed the thought away. Water was rushing at him and it was getting stronger. He had been able to make a pocket of air before they hit the planet, it wasn't going to last long. Blackness consumed him once again, he could feel the muscles in his form relax. His metal shelter slipping way into the depths.

He must have floated to the surface somehow. Vision was blurred, as if he was looking to the side from his foot, up at the sky from his stomach, and back towards the sea floor all at the same time. He tried to roll over, maybe swim to somewhere, but where, how? Which way was up? He could feel himself splashing on the surface, tentacles designed for grasping trying to push through water. Most of his body was still relaxed. It was the only reason he was still afloat. His mind raced in every which way. Then, pain shot through his body as he was drug underneath the water. A force from outside was pulling him. Whatever it was, it seemed like a muscle itself. Lashing out he sent his tentacles around the beast. Not sure what was going on he kept twisting, pulling, tightening as much as he could till the monster stopped his descent and returned to the surface. It felt like days went past as he listened to each voice in his head.

He wasn't sure what happened to the creature that attacked him, but for some reason he was able to move through the water a little better. His body had become more narrow, his arms smaller and able to glide through the liquid. He knew how to swim like this, using his body he pushed through the water. Not knowing where he was going, though he hopped land was close. His vision was even more blurred now, but one way seemed better than the other four, as if looking through eyes that were made for the environment he was in. His breathing was much more calm now, but at the same time chaotic, he tightened a part of his body and equalization occurred, cutting off the oxygen to the other organs. "Other organs... you mean." Neel spoke again. He must, no, he couldn't have... what was happening to him?

Sand was nice and coarse. The sun beat down on him and he didn't care. I was like being home, a sense of calm washed over him. A moment later he was flailing on the ground, like a fish out of water. He stopped a few organs and started up different ones. He couldn't articulate how he could do it, as if moving parts of his body around, shifting everything, it was like moving a hand. "My hand?" Neel said. "No, that was mine." a different voice spoke out, it had authority, like he was in charge of something. The two voices spoke louder than the multitude that was behind or beside them. Each of them whispering or yelling, it was all the same to him most the time. "I know this beach." Neel said, "My parents used to take me here." A tear rolled down one of the eyes and sorrow filled him. A moment later it stopped and a different voice emerged. This one was his own voice. Did he have a voice? Where did he get that? "Of course you have a voice. Your a think arn't you?" The captain said.

He could feeling himself moving his arms. He pulled some in and pushed some out. He was still a blob, but now with fewer arms, or were those fins? Thoughts were more concise now, but only came at random moments. "Get in doors" Neel said. "No, stupid. Someone will see." Captain answered. A hole on his stomach opened up and released air. It sounded like a horrible guttural sound, but he could tell it was through a larynx of some kind. "Imdor…" it bellowed. One of the voices chuckled, "That's what you should call yourself you freak. Ha.. because you don't make any sense." A roar spat out another word, "Shut!" He clawed his body further inland. He moved with quick flops and random pulls. When he got to the sidewalk liquids trailed out from behind him, It was a mixture or brain mater, blood, fats, and saliva.

Finding a shaded area he sat there. Skin shifting about as he learned more about his body. He could move his fingers, toes, and tongue too. He had too many of them to be useful so he pulled them all into his center and tried to make the best decisions on which, discarded the rest. A few days had to of passed. When he got hungry he just grabbed a homeless person, the place was teaming with them. They would come in the middle of the night thinking to find a nice corner to sleep, instead they'd find an Imdor pillow and die. Just another voice to push aside like the rest. Neel and the captain try to put their two cents in still, but it seemed that the fewer pieces of their body he had, the weaker their voices became.

Pushing back long black hair Imdor watched the people of Florida putz around like normal. Human's were so oblivious to some things, at least twelve homeless went missing on this very street, by his hand's none the less, and no one batted an eye. He smiled as he leaned up against the building behind him. His clothes were tattered and beaten up by long days on the street. All he had to wear was what the homeless dead gave him. The jeans he wore were slightly too big, his olive green jacket hung on his figure like it belonged there, it was something out of the Vietnam era maybe. He wasn't sure exactly how he knew about the wars of the United States, it must have been one or a few people he had absorbed. He let his thoughts run on as he watched the crowd before him.

What was he going to do? Everyone around him was using money, something he didn't have, to buy the things they needed. For now he was ok. Thanks to the minds he had Imdor was able to find places to sleep and stay cool if he needed. But he wasn't comfortable. His hands were dirty. His clothes tattered an worn. It just wasn't his style. He felt more like a creature than anything else. He wanted to feel like himself, like the elegant Vectian he truly was. It would take more than two billion humans to make him anything else. Though, this form was satisfying. Not as tall, or as talented as he used to be, but it will do. It was the perfect camouflage for a take over.

His master plan, to create a new home for his race, had to start somewhere... but where?

His eyes fell on a group of people across the street from where he was standing. It was a gang, they all had tattoos, walked, and talked the same. He wondered how much money they made, it couldn't have been that much, their clothes looked like they were going to fall off. But it couldn't hurt to absorb one or two of them. See what he can learn. All he would need is a head.

He took off walking their way. Imdor's shoes were too big for his feet and they flopped against the ground as he approached them. And how exactly could he get one of them alone? He brought his hand up to his neck for a scratch and tugged his head back towards the ally behind him. It was the universal sign of, 'hey, I'm a junky. Can you get me some more? I'll pay you over here.' Complicated, yes. But it worked. He and one of the gang members made eye contact and he started to head Imdor's way.

Getting across the street and deep into one of the ally ways was easy. Hell, even pulling off the drug addict was easy, he had absorbed one or two already; having to purge himself of the toxins soon after he was done digesting. Imdor found himself face to face with one the gang members, and before he could open his mouth to say something, Imdor reached around and placed his hand on the man's head. Forcing him to the ground. Having the strength of several men it was easy to achieve. Once down Imdor's hand engulfed the gang members head and started to absorb the poor fool.

A moment past and the man's brain belonged to Imdor, along with all of his memories. Now, if he wanted to make money, he would have to find... He was surprised it wasn't someone in his own gang. He really hoped he wouldn't have to go anywhere, but it seems the Japanese gang that ran drugs through the state of Hawaii made the big bucks, over 6 billion a year. Sure, it wasn't one of those meta-groups, but he didn't necessarily want any trouble as of yet. Reaching for the man's pocket Imdor pulled out a large wad of cash. He knew exactly how much was in there and what it was planned for, then he reached for the man's left shoes and pulled out another two hundred from under the insole.

Fifteen hundred dollars would get him a nice par of cloths. He thought for a moment. This guy was a small fish in a big pond. Not too far from here was the leader of the gang and a large drug distribution point. Taking out the leaders would be easy enough. Imdor grabbed the handgun that was in the man's waistline and put it in his own. Stopped by the store for a nice suit and hat, then made his way down to the gangs hideout.

He was now wearing a black suit with a white undershirt and light green tie. His hat was a black fedora and his black hair was pulled back in a long pony tail. He felt refreshed. Nice and clean. Looked nothing like the monster he was and he wanted to keep himself that way.

The sun was beating down on Imdor but he didn't really care. Being able to control your complete biology had its perks. He made his body, the parts you couldn't really see, extremely porous to allow for maximum airflow and pulled his veins more to the surface of his skin in order to keep him at a comfortable 96 degrees. When he walked up to the house he wasn't even sweating even though he had walked more than a mile to his destination.

He stuck out like a sore thumb. A nice new suits in a rundown part of town, he minds well get on his knees and ask to be robbed. Not like he had something of worth, or that he was afraid. Imdor was more excited than anything else. The gun he held had an all black body and was pretty boxy, .45 Glock, he remembered. It was going to be the first time he shot this kind of weapon. Most on the planet Vectin III, never used such a weapon, even though they were plagued with war for years. His human counterparts had plenty of practice, especially Neel. Serving in the armed forces he had the most familiarization with a handgun, he would rely on most of his thoughts than the others for this task.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Imdor's hand rapped against the wooden door.

A dog started to bark loudly and a man yelled at the poor creature. As the man opened the door the dog bared its teeth and started to bark more ruthlessly. It took all the man had to pull the creature back and put him in a room in the back. Though the creature didn't stop for a moment, pulling as it's master chocked him on a collar made specifically for that purpose.

Frustrated the gangster walked back to the door where Imdor was waiting patiently. "Man, don't know what got into em man. .. How can I help you?" The man looked to be of Mexican decent. His eyes a glorious green color that Imdor adored. "I am with the FBI and have a few questions, can I come in?" Imdor answered. The man was startled and started to mumble, "c-can I see your badge?" Not having one Imdor pulled a piece of paper, the receipt for the suit, and pushed it into the man's chest. "I have a warrant." Imdor pushed the man inside, hit the door with his heel, effectively closing it, pulled up his Glock. "This isn't a-" A loud gun shot resonated through the house.

There was nothing to worry about. A gun shot in this neighborhood was the norm. He would be surprised if the police came at all. With a quick once over the rest of the house Imdor got to work. Taking the man's eyes and replacing the color of his own to green, consuming his brain, going upstairs and finding a hole in the wall full of cash with a bag next to it, he finished filling the bag, pulling the keys to a vehicle from the man's pocket and putting them in his own, and finally he went to put a bullet in the dogs skull. He took a sample of the creature for later. Who would know when it would become handy. Though, if he created one it would no doubt try to attack him.

Imdor went outside and found an Escalade parked in the driveway. He threw the bag of money in the back, started up the vehicle, checked the gas tank to make sure it was full, and decided what to do next. Money was taken care of for now, he wasn't sure how much was there but it would be enough. He would lay low for a day or two. Find out what to do with the money, could he take it through the airport? He could try and find more low profile airport than the international ones strung out the US. Hm... Library time. The computer could tell him of smaller airports, he could be able to bribe them and get a safe passage to the state. For now he would head towards California.

Imdor took off down the road.

[END]

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