Mrs Darcy vs The Aliens

It was suppertime in the Mission for Fallen Women, although Mary Ann Nicholls had no idea what time it was, or even if it was day or night. The last twenty-four hours had been strange and troubling, and she had spent the time drifting in and out of consciousness whilst all manner of peculiar things were done to her. Or had she just been dreaming?

“’Ere,” said one of the others at the table, a large, dark-skinned girl who always wore a bandana around her head,  “What was ’e like, then?”

“Who?” said Mary Ann.

“That posh bloke,” said another girl with rippley hair. “You was with ’im for ages. Mind you, I wouldn’t ’ave kicked ’im out.” She gave a raucous laugh, and the girl in the bandana joined in with her.

So it had happened.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It was like a really bad dream. Like I was being smothered.” By something slimy, she thought. “Tell you what though,” she said out loud, “I’m starving.”

“Well, get stuck in then, girl,” said the one in the bandana, indicating the plate of stodge in front of her.

“Yeah,” said Mary Ann, picking up a spoon. But as soon as she took the first mouthful, she felt odd. Something inside her wasn’t quite right. She tried to swallow, but it seemed to be stuck in her throat. “Ouch,” she said, as a spasm of pain shot through her guts. Then she felt it move. She shuddered. Something inside her had definitely moved. Something with teeth and tentacles.

“What’s wrong?” said the rippley-haired girl.

“Ggggaahhhh,” said Mary Ann. “Cramps …”

Mary Ann grasped the table and began lurching around.

“Aaaagh, the pain,” she screamed. Then she looked down at the front of her dress, which was turning bright crimson. She continued to writhe in agony, held down by the other two girls. There was another intense spasm of pain as something pushed hard at her from the inside and the tip of a tentacle poked through her dress.

“Somebody get a nurse,” said bandana girl. “Quick!” But no-one left the room. Instead, a crowd was beginning to gather around Mary Ann’s twisting, bloody body. Another tentacle forced its way out and joined the other one in a crazed, wriggling duet.

“Oh my God …,” Mary Ann screamed as whatever it was finally burst out of her. Its grinning leathery face swivelled round to take one last look at her, then it waved its tentacles and slithered off towards the door. When the other girls saw what it was, they screamed as well, scattering in all directions. As Mary Ann began to slip into oblivion, she was faintly aware of some newcomers in the room, in the midst of all the pandemonium.

“We’ve had a rejection,” said Mrs Pike, leaning over her.

“Damn,” said a male voice: a cold male voice. “She seemed so promising.” Then his voice got louder. “All right, everybody out,” he said. “Everybody out. Nothing to see here.” He clapped his hands, and the room slowly emptied.

“She’s still alive,” said Mrs Pike, when everyone had gone.

“Not for long.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Dispose of her. Wipe the minds of all the witnesses. And catch that bloody thing before it escapes. Doubt if it’s house-trained.”

“Dispose of her? The poor girl – ”

“No-one must know of this. Use the transporter ray.”

“But that’s not – ”

“She’s as good as dead anyway. If it scrambles her a bit more, so be it.”

“Where shall I send her to?”

“Somewhere a long way away from here. Norwich. Casablanca. Seventy-odd years into the future. Take your pick. And then find me another surrogate. The program must continue.”

“Yes, Mr Darcy,” she said. “As you wish.”