Dib's POV
I am going to kill him.
I am going to kill him, then take a knife to his skin.
I will do what I've always wanted to do.
I will win.
I pace back and forth across the room, muttering darkly. I glare at the mirror, hoping he's watching. Hoping he's afraid.
It grows darker outside as evening comes. My stomach growls; an indicator that dinner is soon. Will I get food? Will he come in?
That will all get answered in time. For now, I plot.
"Okay, slave, I come with food and-" I pounce before he can finish. I bang his head on the ground a couple of times, just for good measure, before punching him anywhere I can. He kicks me off. "Dib, wait." I ignore him and jump again, sending the both of us rolling across the floor, me attacking and him taking it. For a brief moment I allow myself to question why he isn't attacking back, but quickly get that thought out of my head. He tries to block me. "As your Master, I command you to stop!" My blows only grow harder at his words, and he seems to notice. He kicks me away once more, and jumps on me this time, wrapping his arms around me to where I can't move. "What is that expression you humans use?... Oh yeah! Hear me out, Dib."
"You have two minutes." I'll give him that. He releases me and I turn to him, crossing my arms.
"You're seeing this all wrong. This isn't bad, it's actually a compliment." I scoff. "No, really!"
"How?"
"It says that if I had gone and destroyed this planet, I would've spared your life. You are still of a lower species, but you and I are... equals." My eyes widen at this. "Yes, Dib. Out of everyone else, you're the only one smart enough to pick me out as an alien. And you're the only one whose trying to save this poor excuse of a planet. Intelligence, devotion, drive- we have these things in common. To be honest, beneath the skin, we are very alike." I'm stunned by how... sincere he's being.
"Anyway, I made you my slave out of the bottom of my squeedily-spooch. And I believe I still have ten seconds left over, yes?" I blink; I haven't actually been keeping track of the time. I was just going to wait until he was done talking before finishing him. But now I'm… intrigued. He sees the change in my demeanor, and decides to continue without an answer.
"But I've been on Earth long enough to get things. I know that you wouldn't like being a slave to an Irken. In fact, most of you humans would take death over it. On Irk, slaves are beaten around to show status, to keep good face. They're poked and prodded and laughed at and suffer all abuse out there. But-" He sees my expression, "This is not Irk. And, according to the Tallest, I'm not even considered an Irken anymore."
"And my time on Earth has changed me. I've grown taller, but also more… sensitive, more emotional than any Irk has ever been allowed to be. So, I don't want to put you through that. I know that we've been enemies since I came here, but I've come to realize that you've been the only one, besides Gir, to ever notice me. So this… slavery thing… it's not status as much as… companionship." He looks away, his magenta eyes closed. I don't know what to think.
He's evil. He's been trying to take over Earth for years. He enlarged a hamster. He tried to kidnap our class. He threw a muffin at my head! But… he's right. About everything. Nobody cares about me. Not Gaz, and certainly not dad. And if I were to be honest with myself… he's the only one I got, as well.
"Okay then, if this is for companionship, then why am I stuck in this room by myself?" He whips his head back at me.
"You'll run away! You'll kill me in my sleep! You're trying to kill me now! I may not take the slavery thing as seriously, but I still want some foundations- you under my control. But I know that the majority of the control has to come from trust." How long has he been talking and thinking like this? I stare a few moments before turning my attention out the window. He has changed.
My stomach growls again, and I remember that he came in with food. I look to see a gray lump in the midst of broken glass. I cringe, and he notices. "Yeah… I can't cook. And all Gir ever makes is waffles. After eating them for months on end, I decided that any filth I could make would suit me fine…" He cringes as well, probably thinking about the taste of said gray filth.
I sigh. The fight in me is gone- for now. I stand up and dust myself off. "If you let me out of this room, I'll cook. Deal?" He stares at my hand, thinking it over. Finally, he grasps it with his own.
"Deal."
