Alright, here is the first chapter of Loren's story. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs.

Chapter 1 – Waking up in a storage room

I woke up. Confused I looked around. This wasn't my room. And certainly not the clearing.

The clearing! Of course! Seemingly I hadn't just imagined the alien. It probably took me into the spaceship.

Not that it looks like a spaceship, I thought. More like an old storage room.

Honestly, that's exactly what it looked like. On my left side was a TV with a lot of magazines on top of it. Next to this were some chairs with two bikes leaning against them. It was crazy! The whole room was filled with almost everything that could be found on earth. There even was a car!

And on the ceiling dangled little twinkling lights, almost like Christmas decoration, in every color I could think of!

Well, and on my right side lay a boy. He was taller than me, maybe five or six centimetres, even through that was hard to tell while he was lying on the ground. His hair was brown and he seemed to be a bit older than me, but only by a few months.

He was still unconscious, so I figured he had probably been kidnapped after me.

Kidnapped by aliens! No one is going to believe me when I get home. Well, if I even get home.

I didn't know what these aliens wanted to do with me, or the boy for that matter.

Speaking of him, he just began to wake up.

"Hey, are you OK?", I asked him.

"I think so", he answered. "You know where we are?"

"Well, the last thing I remember is this alien shooting at me, so I suppose we're in a spaceship. Seemingly the storage area."

Saying it out loud made it sound even more absurd.

"Oh man, I thought I only dreamed that up", the boy moaned.

At this moment a door opened. Well, to be exact, a part of the wall just disappeared and created a round opening. I guess, that's what you call a "door" in a spaceship.

An alien entered the room. This one looked completely different from the one I had seen in the clearing. In fact he looked like a huge cockroach with fourteen legs and six sets of antennae. And it was huge! It was even my size, which is pretty big for a cockroach.

"Hey, you stupid freak!"

The boy jumped up and ran yelling toward the alien. I hurried after him, even through I wasn't sure why. It looked like he was about to beat this alien up and I was angry at these aliens.

I mean, this one definitely wasn't the one who shot me, but still … it probably worked together with the other ones. But I didn't know for sure and beating this alien up wasn't going to help me finding answers. So I didn't know if I was going to try to stop this boy or help him.

Before I could decide on either of these possibilities, he reached the alien and tried to punch it in the face. The alien managed to to dodge the blow, but only barely.

The boy got it far worse: The alien whirled around and hit him with one of his legs. The boy fell to the ground. He was out cold and on this forehead a gap opened.

The moment I saw the blood, I totally lost it. All I could think of were the facts that I had been kidnapped and that this alien had just beat a boy unconscious.

I ran up to it and grabbed a baseball bat on my way – like I said: There was almost everything to be found in this room.

As soon as I reached the alien, I swung the baseball bat around and – Yeah! I hit the alien straight in the head! Now it fell to the ground, too.

Slowly my mind caught up with my actions. Alright, and what now?, I wondered.

I probably hadn't killed the alien. I once read that cockroaches are hard to kill and after all this guy looked pretty much like one, even with the additional limbs.

And the boy? Well, he was still lying on the floor. His wound looked pretty bad. I knelt down next to him and tried to find his pulse.

But at the exact moment when I touched his wrist, his eyes flew open. Okay, at least he's still alive, I told myself.

"Please don't kill me. Please – don't", he whispered.

Oh, no! This couldn't be happening! Now he probably thought I was one of the aliens! I didn't know what to do.

In this condition he wouldn't even let me look after his wound – not that I knew how to treat such a cut, anyway.

So … I looked at the door. It was still open, but I didn't trust it to remain that way for a long time.

I shot one last glance at the boy, who was still begging for mercy, then I got up and left the room.

So, what do you think? Please review!