This chapter is a smidge shorter then the others, but it really just needed to serve as a transition between 3 and 5. I wonder how long I'll make this fic...

Kyle felt like he was going to puke. The gastric juice inside his stomach twisted and churned uncontrollably. He placed a hand to his mouth to quiet his breathing and to calm himself. What he was about to do could get him killed. Or, worse, be forced to live.

Waiting. Kyle waited, sick to his stomach for Stan to feed him. And when he did- he would run. Run as fast as he can, find the airlock, and throw himself into space. Because he couldn't live here, as an entre for an alien. Because he finally understood; he wouldn't be going back home. He could beg and beg and beg, cry at Stan's feet and hold onto him as he tried to kick him away, but he would never go home, because Stan was hungry and Kyle was food.

His stomach rumbled. Kyle looked down, his hand shakily holding his midsection. Was he ready for this? Ready to die? …Of course he wasn't, but there was no option. What sort of life did he have now, anyway? Each day that passed, all Kyle did was eat and sleep. Stan gave him nothing to stimulate his mind, for that burned calories and Stan wanted him fat. Kyle pinched his waist, his stomach plummeting farther when he felt a bit of fat there that he hadn't had before.

He breathed in and out, breathe feeling heavy as his heart pounded uncontrollably fast. He could hear Stan coming. Kyle felt like throwing up, but kept it down long enough for the steel door to hiss open.

"Ah-" Stan looked at him from his crouching position on the ground, "You eat no-!" His eyes widened when Kyle lunged at him. With good aim, Kyle socked him in the face, making the alien stumble backwards. Stan lifted a hand to his nose, and Kyle bolted. He heard the door hiss shut behind him.

The floors were metal and cold against his bare feet as he ran. He felt cold all over, naked. Everything was white. White white white, just like in the movies. Kyle shivered as he ran, dread mixing in with his fear. He wanted to cry, he was so scared. Because this was it, wasn't it? He was going to fling himself into space, and suffocate.

There were many doors, all similar to the one he had seen in Star Wars in the Death Star. The idea made him want to laugh, but instead, it made him feel sick. Stan was his Sith Lord, and he was out to kill him; worse yet, eat him. Alive. Just as he had done before. Kyle would rather die then go through that again.

His breath was coming in short when he reached a dead end. Kyle skidded to a halt, panicking. Where would he turn, from here? He began to cry when he heard footsteps, no doubtably Stan. He spun around, looking for any possible way out. There were two doors, and he had no other choice. Kyle banged on it, sobbing when it wouldn't open. There was no handle. It wasn't a door like on Earth, and he didn't know how to open it.

Grabbing the edge and pulling didn't work. Neither did pushing on it. He didn't know what else to do. Defeated, Kyle slid down, running his hands along the red panel. And of course, it was that that opened it. His eyes widened, and he darted inside as fast as he could. The door shut silently behind him.

Inside, everything was quiet and dark. He couldn't see anything apart for a few blinking lights along the wall, and a window that showed the cosmos. He felt alone. Kyle licked his dried lips and crawled along the edge of the wall, feeling every bit for some sort of latch that he could open. It was freezing inside that room.

Kyle bumped into something hard, and rubbed his head, cursing. Further investigation showed that it was a sort of chair, connected to a metal board that stretched all the way up to the ceiling, or so he could tell. His eyes had slowly begun to adjust to the dark, although it was still pitifully bad. Oh what he would give to just be at home, or even school…

Thirty paces. That's how far he had moved from the door into this strange room. The uncertainty of where he was and how long he had to run was eating away at his already churning insides. This could be his only chance to escape, to kill himself. He had to get away. Had to get away. Run. Die. Get away. Anything. Anything to escape-

What was that against his ankle? Kyle shuddered and his face paled as he looked behind him. Nothing. It must have just been his imagination. He couldn't take this. The stress was killing him, his nerves slowly sending him into a spiral of paranoia and fear. Oh if only he could die, though.

But there it was again! Kyles eyes widened and he rolled onto his side, kicking out. He scrambled underneath the metal board and sat there with his hands over his mouth. Petrified. Kyle was petrified.

"Bad. Very very bad Kyle." The words were around him, everywhere at once. He shuddered. He hadn't heard Stan come in…

"You not run," his voice said, as he felt a tentacle creep up his back. Kyle screeched and squirmed away, but it grabbed him around the neck. Choking him. "Make me mad. You not get away."

Kyle's hands clawed at the tentacle around his neck. "S- Stop it. I can't- breathe- I can't-" He gasped for air, feeling so empty yet as though he was about to explode from lack of oxygen.

"BAD." The tentacle tightened around him as more joined it.

Kyle felt his eyes roll into the back of his head. He couldn't breathe. The life was being sucked out of him. But this is what he had wanted, right? To suffocate in space? He hadn't wanted to die at the hands of his enemy, but now, he would take anything to just be home. Away.

He slumped over when the tentacle suddenly let go of him. Kyle gasped for breath out of reflex. The life poured back into him with every molecule of oxygen that passed through his lungs and through his atriaventricular valve. Kyle lay panting on the floor as he coughed, sputtering uncontrollably. His body shook. The stress had been too much for him, he wasn't strong.

"You don't run," Stan scolded, and Kyle sobbed. His touch was disgusting as he slid up next to him. "Very bad, make me angry." A thin tentacle travelled over his trachea, squeezing it lightly.

"I want to die," Kyle moaned. He couldn't take much more of this.

Stan hummed a reply. It was eerie how quickly he could change moods, strangling him at once second and then humming at the next. It was a childlike cruelty, that changed on whim. Bipolar. Stan could no be trusted, nor could he be satiated. But then again, Kyle already knew this.

After a while of Kyle's erratic breathing and Stan's persistent licking, Kyle's blood ran cold with the words that he did not want to hear. "I'm hungry."

Stan laughed as he jerked suddenly away from him, catching him quickly around the waist. The alien boy continued laughing as he fought for him, scrabbling over his thrashing body so that he had him pinned. "Fun."

Kyle kicked out, but it was useless. Stan had him pinned sufficiently underneath him. He felt him bite him on the shoulder and shake his head from side to side, trying to bite off a bit of flesh. Howling, Kyle kicked back, and Stan tumbled off of him. Kyle scrambled for something to defend himself with. But he found nothing. Stan grabbed for him again, making Kyle screech. The alien's mouth lodged itself onto his neck, and Kyle felt his cold, slippery tongue savor his skin.

Biting continued down his neck and onto his shoulder where Stan stopped suddenly. He mumbled something before standing up. Kyle was left to lay on the ground, naked, bleeding, and dumbfounded.

"Go home planet we will soon. I eat at home. Come, back to room, you sleep, then we eat."

Kyle was pulled up buy the upper arm and forced through the door, where he stumbled to meet it in the dark. It shot open like usual, and Stan dragged him out into the hallway. The sound of Stan's shoes and his own shoe-less patter of feet against the ground reminded him so much of who was in charge, and where he was. He was a prisoner. Not just a prisoner; an ingredient to an entre that would satiate the alien for- years. The thought made his stomach remember how sick it was feeling.

Depression sunk into Kyle's body as they walked. His feet dragged and he hung his head low. He was tired. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. He didn't want to be here, he just- he wanted a normal life. He wanted his life back. And he was probably the only teenager in the world who thought that. Kyle almost laughed. Funny how it took being abducted and eaten by an alien to wish to be normal…

Without petrified running, Kyle could clearly see his surroundings. It did indeed look like the Death Star, all white hallways with steel reinforced doors. He wondered vaguely where the other aliens were, if there were any at all. Kyle didn't think he wanted to see them, though, so he didn't think about it much.

Stan kept his head straight forward, never looking back or noticing how Kyle dragged his feet as he walked. He seemed anxious, somehow. Perhaps he hadn't been to his home planet in a long time? Kyle didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care. The hand around his arm that had morphed into a tentacle during their walk tightened around him when they stopped in front of another door. It looked just like the others, yet Stan was able to identify it as Kyle's room.

"In." Stan placed his hand upon the door and it opened. He flung Kyle into the room. Kyle stumbled, and tripped, falling with an 'oomph' onto the fluffy material which automatically caught him, forming to the curves of his body. He wiped away a strand of curly red hair before glaring up at Stan, who simply looked down at him.

"You sleep, much rest. We home soon." It was all he said before the door hissed closed in front of him. Kyle stared at it for a while, imagining Stan to still be there, looking down at him. After a while, Kyle growled and punched the ground.

Goddamnit! He had been close. He had escaped. Who knew what he could have found if he hadn't ran into a dead end. He was so stupid. He hadn't honestly thought that he could have escaped… There was almost no chance. No chance to escape. He didn't know where he was, or where he was going. The spaceship was beyond his comprehension.

Suddenly, Kyle was petrified again. An alien, Stan was an alien, and they were going to his home planet. Shivers ran up Kyle's spine. His image of aliens had been admittedly warped now that he had met Stan. He had imagined them to look not humanoid at all, but yet, Stan looked perfectly- human, apart from, well, the tentacles. But it was strange. Why did he look humanoid? Was his home planet similar to that of earth? Should he not have adapted to his home planet? Or maybe- he was human, only as a disguise. But for what reason? Kyle was scared enough as it was…

Kyle stood, and wandered over to the vast window where he knelt down and leaned onto the ledge. He stared out into the cosmos, watching bits of space junk pass the window, the swirling mixture of color, illuminated by distant galaxies. He wondered if aliens inhabited those worlds as well. Were they the same as Stan, as himself? Or were they monstrous, without complex thought?

A planet loomed in front of the window, blue, with lights blinking through the black void of space. Kyle stared in awe and in fear. A- planet. Another planet. It was overwhelming; the sheer idea that other planets existed with intelligent life on them… But that was right. Stan was an alien, he had been abducted by an alien. Possibilities were numerous, anything was possible. And where an alien existed, there had to be more, on its same planet. Kyle's blood ran cold.

Stan pulled at him, but Kyle resisted, screeching. He thrashed, screaming for his life as Stan forced him out of his room. They had landed around an hour ago, and Kyle was petrified. He didn't want any more change, he wanted to stay in his room, forever, and die. Not even curiosity won him over to leave, because Kyle knew that whatever was outside the spaceship would be too horrible to imagine. He kicked his feet out, planting his heels firmly in front of him. Stan became annoyed, and yanked him hard with his inhuman strength, making Kyle fall forward suddenly.

"Stop it! Stop it! No, nononon no no nonono! Leave me alone, I don't want to leave! Let me go! Let me go home! Please, stop, stop!" Kyle yelled, twisting in Stan's grip as he pulled him along the floor. "I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE! I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE!" He continued to howl, fear gripping at his chest and plunging him under a wave of terror as Stan pulled him to a flight of stairs.

Kyle was dragged down them unmercifully and unceremoniously. His body throbbed as it hit the edges of the stairs. He twisted in Stan's grasp. Stan was unrelenting. And before Kyle knew it, he was thrown into a world of darkness.

The world was dark. Horribly, horribly dark, and Kyle could not see. Everything was pitch black like Stan's hair. Above him, Stan sighed, drinking in the putrid smell of his home planet. Lucky for Stan, he was home. Kyle, however, was not so lucky.

They were home.

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