Chapter 3 Eat more

Jack Connors looked up, startled to see the tenant from earlier, who had nearly knocked him out with a flower pot, standing at the door. Despite her apparent distress, Jack's expression remained cold. Even if she was a pretty face, the near-death experience had left him far from forgiving.

Noticing Jack's frosty demeanor, the tenant, Lily, quickly set aside the pile of boxes and began to apologize. "Mr. Connors, I'm so sorry about earlier. Really, I didn't mean to—"

She bowed deeply, a practiced gesture from her job interviews that morning. Given the countless times she'd had to apologize lately, it had become second nature.

"It's fine…" Jack said, his frown indicating he wasn't ready to be friendly. Even though her apology seemed sincere, he wasn't in the mood to be forgiving.

"Go on inside," Jack said, moving aside to let her pass.

"Thank you, Mr. Connors. I promise I'll be more careful next time," Lily said gratefully as she hurried inside. Once she reached her room on the second floor, her thoughts drifted to her job interviews and the challenges of living in a big city. She sighed, shaking her head; what Jack bought and did was of no concern to her.

Meanwhile, Jack was left alone with a heap of boxes. He had only a minute left, and the task of moving all the boxes into the basement seemed daunting. The pain from the mysterious force within his hand made him shiver.

In his haste, Jack stumbled and fell, a scream escaping him as he hit the basement floor.

"Your body is far too weak," came the dispassionate voice from his hand.

Jack wanted to cry; his body wasn't exactly frail. But arguing with an alien force that could punish him at will was futile, so he kept quiet.

After a grueling effort, Jack finally managed to get everything into the basement. Exhausted, he mopped and cleaned the space for the next two hours until he was completely spent, collapsing on the floor.

"I can't do this anymore. Please, just let me be," Jack pleaded, but his pleas were ignored. The entity in his hand, now awake and somewhat satisfied with the cleaning, issued the next command.

"Human, you need to eat and replenish your energy."

Jack's spirits lifted. His body ached for food, and he felt he could devour a whole cow. He staggered out to the street, now filled with people finishing their workday and crowding the eateries.

The bustling street was a far cry from Jack's modest noodle shop, where every bowl sold was a small victory compared to the thriving businesses on this main road.

Feeling a pang of envy, Jack entered a popular noodle shop and ordered two bowls of beef noodles. It struck him as odd that he was ordering such a large quantity just for himself, but given his condition, he didn't care.

The shop owner, Mr. Wang, was puzzled by Jack's unusual order. He'd never seen anyone order two bowls of beef noodles at once—most customers ordered much less. He couldn't understand why someone would need so much food.

As Mr. Wang observed Jack eating, he noticed Jack's eyes were wet with tears. It was an unusual sight. "Is everything okay?" Mr. Wang asked, leaning in.

"It's just so good," Jack said, wiping his tears away. "Please, I need another bowl."

Mr. Wang was taken aback but complied. As he returned to the kitchen, he tasted the noodles to ensure they were as good as always, finding nothing unusual.

Jack devoured six bowls of noodles before leaving, his stomach seemingly deflated despite the volume of food he had just consumed. His hunger was insatiable, prompting the mysterious force in his hand to issue another command.

"Go to the park you visited last night."

Jack's face soured at the command. The park had been the place where everything had started with the strange entity. Reluctantly, he made his way to Eastside Park, the largest park in the area, known for its once-bustling events but now frequented mostly by couples in the evenings.

As Jack wandered through the park, he stood out among the couples, feeling isolated and uncomfortable.

Jack Connors took a deep breath as he walked into the Eastside Park, navigating through the winding trails shaded by towering trees. The cool summer night air provided a welcome relief from the day's heat.

"Are you looking for something?" Jack asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"Quiet. Just keep walking along this path," came the eerie command from the disembodied voice of the alien entity that had taken control of his hand. The hand, now an unnerving appendage, extended menacingly in the darkness.

Jack was accustomed to the bizarre appearances of his alien overlord by now, but this was a new level of unnerving. He was alone in the park; any sudden appearance might cause someone to think he was involved in something sinister.

The only sounds were the rustling leaves and the occasional chirp of crickets. As he trudged along the path, Jack's anxiety heightened. He had hoped for some normalcy, but his current situation was far from ordinary.

After walking about a hundred yards, the alien commanded, "Stop. Move towards the lake."

Jack glanced down the steep slope leading to the lake below, its surface shimmering under the moonlight. "What's the point of going to the lake?" he thought. The place was eerily calm, with no amenities or benches—just a forbidding expanse of water. The "No Swimming" sign seemed almost to mock his predicament.

"Jump in," the voice instructed abruptly.

Jack's eyes widened in disbelief. "Jump in? Are you crazy? It's pitch black out here! If anyone sees me—"

Before he could finish his protest, the alien's power seized control of his body, making him lurch forward and fall into the lake with a splash. The cold water enveloped him instantly.

As Jack struggled to stay afloat, he could only think of how absurd his situation had become. He barely managed a curse before losing consciousness.

On the other side of the lake, two nervous young men were grappling with a moral dilemma.

"Dude, should we go through with this?" asked the leaner of the two, wiping sweat from his brow and looking at his partner.

The taller, bulkier man, known as Mike, frowned, his resolve wavering. "Come on, are you backing out now? We've come this far."

"But Mike," the younger man said, "what if we get caught? It's a serious charge."

Mike's frustration was palpable as he gripped the other's collar. "We've already got her. Are you going to send her back? Besides, look at her—she's not exactly a prize."

He gestured toward the woman lying unconscious among the weeds. The dim moonlight revealed her features, which were far from attractive.

The younger man, nicknamed Monkey, was uncomfortable. "But what if people find out? We'll be in big trouble."

Mike's irritation peaked. "Just get it over with. It's not about her looks. Just do your part."

Monkey reluctantly stepped toward the woman, but his hesitation was evident. Suddenly, a splash broke the silence.

"What was that?" Monkey's voice quivered as he peered toward the lake.

Mike frowned. "Probably just a fish or something. What are you freaking out about?"

But Monkey's fear grew. "Mike, have you ever heard any weird stories about this park?"

"Ghost stories? Really?" Mike scoffed. "This place doesn't have ghosts."

As if on cue, Monkey's face went pale, his eyes wide with terror. He stared at something behind Mike, his fear palpable.

Mike turned around, his bravado faltering when he saw what had scared his companion. Emerging from the water was a pale, dripping hand, followed by a head, rising slowly from the lake.

In the dead of night, with only the moonlight for illumination, the sight was horrifying. Mike's confidence evaporated as he realized that this was no ordinary encounter. The eerie scene was beyond anything he had imagined.

hey emerged from the water with a vacant expression, barely acknowledging Mike and Monkey. Holding a peculiar object, they walked past the stunned pair and continued along the shore.

Minutes dragged by—five, maybe ten—until the night breeze finally stirred Monkey back to reality.

"Mike... Mike, let's get out of here..." Monkey stammered, collapsing in fear.

Mike, still frozen, fumbled to light a cigarette, but his trembling hands caused him to burn himself. Cursing, he dropped the lighter and cigarette, sitting on the grass, trying to steady his breath.

The terror had left them both shaken. Their bodies showed classic signs of panic—heart palpitations, sweating, and dizziness. Mike's mind raced. What had they just witnessed? The figure's eyes had been empty, devoid of any human emotion.

"I can't remember anything about what they looked like. Just that expressionless face and those lifeless eyes," Mike admitted, trying to steady himself.

"Mike, was that... a water spirit or something?" Monkey asked, his voice trembling.

"A water spirit?" Mike shivered, recalling old ghost stories he'd heard as a child. "You think that was real?"

He slapped Monkey on the back. "Doesn't matter what it was. We're not sticking around to find out. Let's get out of here."

The two men left in haste, their fear easing only when they encountered a few couples walking by, their presence a stark contrast to the night's earlier terror.

Back in the park, Jack Connors was confused and disoriented. After being forced into the lake by the alien entity controlling his hand, he struggled to make sense of his situation.

"What did that alien make me do?" he wondered. He looked down at his drenched clothes and the strange metallic object in his hand—a cylindrical, seamless metal piece about the size of a coffee mug. Its purpose was unclear, but it was clearly significant.

Shivering from both the cold and fear, Jack hurried home, his wet clothes attracting curious glances from passersby. He ran the last stretch to his apartment, relieved that his keys hadn't been lost in the water.

Inside, he quickly undressed and took a hot shower, trying to wash away the stench and grime. After changing into dry clothes, Jack cut a slice of watermelon, savoring the cool, refreshing fruit. But his relief was short-lived. The alien's presence and its mysterious intentions loomed over him.

As he inspected the metal cylinder more closely, he noted its featureless, solid design. "What is this thing?" he wondered. Fearing further punishment from the alien entity, he carefully stowed the object in a hidden compartment under his bed.

Jack's heart raced as he considered the potential danger of this unknown artifact. If it was as dangerous as he suspected, he needed to be cautious. After all, he had little idea of what the alien was truly capable of.

On May 27th, humanity unknowingly faced its first true encounter with extraterrestrial menace, while Jack Connors grappled with an ominous new reality.