Hi everyone!
Well, this is weird, starting a new story again after all this time! I decided to follow a more unusual route this time round with storytelling. I've always thought it would be an interesting concept with the interaction of a Star Wars character and an ordinary person from Earth. Just to clarify so there's no confusion, Star Wars has never existed on Earth in this story, so the protagonist has no idea who he ends up meeting, or the existence of the galaxy where the franchise is based.
The story may appear to start slow, but I promise the plot will build as time goes on.
Hope you enjoy!
With any further delay, let's start the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Wars characters or original story lines, only the plot and OC of this story. The Star Wars franchise belongs to George Lucas and Disney. This story is purely for experimental entertainment.
I turned the ignition off and lifted the handbrake. Reaching behind me, I retrieved my rucksack from the back seat. After doing a quick double-check to see if I had everything, I stepped from my car and started walking towards the front door.
Perhaps I should introduce myself before I go any further. I'm an ordinary twenty-two-year-old guy named Sam. I live in the West Midlands county of Herefordshire in England, just outside a small town called Bromyard. It's a very peaceful part of the world, with the additional advantage of my house being located down a rather rural road. The nearest neighbouring house is located about half a mile away. My home is also in place to gain a wonderful sight of the Welsh landscape upon the horizon which stretches for miles over the nearby English border. It is also surrounded by beautiful woodland and fields. You never had to worry about passing cars; all that was audible was the rustling of the trees, and the chirping of the birds hiding within them. I'd be telling the truth when I'd say there's no other place I'd rather live.
I'd just finished a ten-hour shift at the local newsagents in Bromyard, and I was feeling tired, alongside what felt like every muscle in my body screaming for a well-deserved rest. It was a well-paid job, but could get rather tedious when being on the receiving end of stupid questions from customers, or standing behind a counter and occasionally having to remember to restock the newspapers.
Turning the lock in the front door, I stepped into my house and quickly threw off my shoes, allowing my feet to cool down on the tiled hallway floor.
I walked into the lounge, expecting to see my mum sitting there watching one of her programmes or something. However, she was nowhere to be seen. So, curious, I placed my bag down in an armchair and headed into the kitchen. Immediately, I noticed a small note leaning against the kettle. I picked it up and began to read.
'Hi Sam, I'm so sorry but had an unexpected call from London office. Have had to rush down there for urgent work related reasons and won't be back until Sunday afternoon. There's leftover lasagne in the fridge. Help yourself for dinner. If you need any money for food just let me know and I'll send it over. Enjoy your weekend. Will call for a chat later. Love, Mum X'
Finishing the note, I couldn't help feeling pleased that I'd have most of the weekend to myself. Yet, at the same time disappointed that I'd be quite lonely until Mum got home. That was probably the one disadvantage of this beautiful place where I lived. The isolation could get to you sometimes. After all, the nearest cities I was familiar with were Hereford and Worcester, and both were over half an hour away. Furthermore, reaching Birmingham was over an hour's drive.
After scrunching the note up, I went and checked what had been left in the fridge. As stated, there was about half a dish of lasagne leftover which Mum had made a few days ago. It was always delicious when reheated as leftovers, so that helped lighten my initially downcast mood for the time being.
I then filled the kettle up and turned it on to boil before heading up the stairs to change out of my work clothes.
I came back downstairs wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Relieved at last by the feeling that my skin could breathe properly again.
After making myself a cup of tea, I put the lasagne in the microwave to reheat. While it was cooking, I walked into the living room and sat myself down on the sofa. Reaching for the remote, I turned on the telly and flicked onto BBC iPlayer. After browsing through the collections of shows, I eventually settled on an episode of Porridge to pass the time.
I was about a quarter of the way through the episode when the timer on my food finally finished.
After I'd dished up, I went back to sit down on the sofa and continued watching the telly as I ate. However, I was only a few mouthfuls in when my mobile rang. Sighing, I paused my programme once again and reached for my phone. It was my mum, so I immediately answered.
"Hiya," I said.
"Hi babs," my mum replied, causing me to cringe ever so slightly at her name for me. The name that had stuck since I was a toddler. "How's everything at home?"
"Fine," I said. "Just eating dinner at the moment and watching Porridge. It's always a laugh, I guess."
"Lovely," she said. "I'll assume you saw my note?"
"I did indeed," I answered. "I'd be a little concerned if my spatial awareness had become as bad as yours! . . ." I finished with a smirk.
My mum just chuckled. "Probably," she said.
"You in London yet?" I asked.
"Oh, yes," she replied. "I've been at the hotel for a few hours. Some of my colleagues want to catch up at a bar later, so that'll be nice, I guess."
"I suppose," I said. "Kinda wish I was there!"
"Nah," she said. "With me and a bunch of other oldies, I don't plan on having a late night anyway. Although London's got a lot going on, I suppose. Certainly makes a change from working at home four days a week!"
The phone call didn't last long. All it seemed my mum wanted to ring for was to check I was back from work and hadn't burnt the place down already. It was after she'd recited a list of chores she wanted me to do over the weekend that we eventually parted ways. I wished her well and put the phone down.
Once I'd finished dinner, I continued watching a couple more episodes of Porridge. Eventually, though, I flicked over to BBC One to watch the news after I looked at my watch and saw it was just past nine o'clock. The headlines were nothing new except the regular doom and gloom that I had grown accustomed to. Soon enough though, the evening headlines finished and the weather began to broadcast. The met office was warning of thunderstorms and heavy rain over the Midlands that were due to last until sometime early tomorrow morning. This was something which kind of excited me. I'd always loved the sound of thunder. But, more so the rain when it would pummel down on the house. This gave a person a sort of cosy sensation I'd always found.
Once I turned the news off, I spent the next hour playing on my PlayStation. Yet, I ended up forcing myself to turn the TV off when I felt my eyes begin to weigh themselves down. It always surprised me how a bout of drowsiness could abruptly take me over as it occasionally did like this. I was normally a bad insomniac.
At this point, I decided to drag myself upstairs to bed. After checking the house was secure, I headed up and was soon sat in my bed reading my copy of The Spy Who Came In From The Cold. I managed to get a few chapters through before my brain became too tired to process any more of the story.
The time I remember seeing on my bedside clock was just around half-past ten when I think I finally dozed off. Reality appeared to pass before my eyes like a flash, and like every night, I didn't even realise what had happened. I was gone.
I felt my eyes flutter open. Letting out a heavy sigh, I lifted my hand to rub the sleep from my eyes. When my brain was again capable to process common sense, I realised that I was still lying in the same position from when I got into bed. And I was still sat up, my lamp was still on, and my book was open and lying against my chest.
After turning off my lamp, I glanced down at my electric clock; I took a moment to take in what the time read. I groaned when I saw the display read just before two am. I knew that now I had woken up, I would likely spend another hour trying to doze off again.
All of a sudden, something caught my attention. When I finally took the time to listen more carefully, I noticed what sounded like millions of pebbles hitting the roof of the house. Additionally, I saw a bright flash behind my drawn curtains. I became aware that it was most likely the rage of the storm outside which had woken me up.
I stirred in bed and pulled the duvet over my head: trying to find a more comfortable position. Yet, whatever movement I made, my body felt either too hot or my muscles began to throb with cramps. I ended up burying my head underneath my pillow to give the feeling that I was shutting myself off from the world around me. I wanted to feel completely isolated. Completely safe from any threat.
I'm sure I must have dozed off at some point, even for a short while. Because when I was suddenly woken up again by what sounded like another crash of thunder, my vision changed from a vivid dream to the boring layout of my room in the blink of an eye.
Lying on my side, I noticed the cool moisture on my cheek. I rubbed at the spot near my mouth only to soon realise I had been dribbling in my sleep. Letting out another groan, I rolled over in bed to the dry side of my pillow.
It was then that I noticed something peculiar through my curtains. Around the area I lived, I expected to see nothing but pitch black all throughout the night. Except for the moon on a clear night. However, this time when I was looking out from under my duvet, I could see a faint flicker of yellow pulsing behind the curtains. A part of me wanted to drag my body from my bed to investigate whatever was causing the light. But, at the same time, my brain was ordering me to stay put as it was in no mood to lose body temperature or instruct my limbs to move.
Nevertheless, another area of my brain was telling me that I wouldn't be able to relax until I was certain what was outside. It would just bug me if I woke up in the morning and never decided to find out.
In the end, my curiosity got the better of me. With all the strength I could muster, I turned my legs out towards the floor and felt the bottoms of my feet shuffle on the carpet below. With a deep breath, I hauled my body up and into a standing position. I took a moment to regain my balance before reaching down to my desk chair and retrieving my dressing gown.
Trudging over to the window, I grabbed each curtain and pushed them both aside. Through the glass, I could see barely anything except the silhouetted outlines of the trees blowing in the wind under the night sky. I could also make out the onslaught of rain landing against the window. Yet, straight ahead, and what looked to be positioned somewhere in the field just across the fence from my house, was what appeared to be a small fire crackling against the storm. Rubbing my eyes, I tried to take a closer look. I wasn't mistaken; something was burning in the field. And what's more, when the flames occasionally stood high enough, I was sure I could make out what looked like some sort of debris field through the glow, scattered in the grass. And below the flames there appeared to be something of a crater, or at least where a heavy impact of some kind had ripped up the ground.
Now, I've always maintained that my curiosity holds up stronger than any bravery I might have. But, something inside my subconscious was telling me that this was a moment when hesitation could cause unintentionally harsher consequences for whoever had been onboard whatever it was that had crashed outside. That being is they were still alive.
In a split second, I made my mind up and decided to act.
I ran from my bedroom and hurried down the stairs. Once in the kitchen, I began sifting through the cupboard under the sink for the camping torch. After finding what I was looking for, I quickly slipped on my wellies and threw on my coat. Taking a moment to prepare, I switched on the outside light and finally opened the back door. I was stunned by the ferocity of the gale when I began to open the door, causing the handle to fly from my grip and bang the door against the kitchen wall. Icy pellets of rain also began to sting my face, momentarily blinding me until I wiped my eyes clear with the sleeve of my coat.
Switching on my torch, I pulled up the hood of my coat and took the first few steps out into the storm. Closing the door behind me, I began to shine the torch along the short fence of my back garden. The fence was old, and a couple of the panels had rotted and collapsed over the years. I began looking for a gap between the panels which led to a narrow embankment that would take you into the next field. We had no gate through except around the front of the house which took you out into the road. So, this gap that had formed had become a beneficial element of the rotting fence.
Upon eventually spotting it with my light, I rushed forward: one hand gripping my coat's hood; while the other holding the torch.
Crossing the small embankment, I could see the fire about a hundred and fifty feet away from me. Battling my way through the storm, I dug each foot into the soggy ground to close the distance on whatever it was that had crash landed.
When I finally managed to reach the blazing wreck, I could see that it was some sort of plane or strange aircraft that was now lying in pieces in front of me. The model didn't look familiar to anything I had ever seen before. Aircraft such as the Harrier or F-16 were the more recognisable designs within my short span of aviation knowledge. Yet, what I saw before me was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. It was difficult to describe, but the shape reminded me of a spy plane you'd have seen during the Cold War. The fuselage of the nose and wings were pointed. The craft itself was particularly flat, with the only raised segments being the engines at the back and the canopy.
Speaking of which, it was then I noticed that the canopy was open!
Ignoring the risk of burning myself from the intensity of the flames, I hurried forward into the crater and stood myself up on the wing. I gaped into the now empty cockpit and shone my torch onto the control panel. The layout appeared similar enough to what you'd expect to see in a plane, but there was something different about the technology. It appeared more sophisticated than anything I'd ever seen in an aircraft. It was almost like something out of a Sci-Fi movie.
Shining my torch at the pilot's chair, I realised that there were no signs that the pilot had ejected before the crash. The seatbelt had been undone, judging by the fact that the cockpit was still mostly dry and the seat still had an essence of body heat to it when I placed my hand on it, the pilot hadn't been gone long.
My eyes widened. Standing up straight again after my examination of the cockpit, I shone my torch into the darkness: keen to see if anybody was roaming through the storm nearby.
"HELLO!" I shouted as loud as I could. "IS ANYONE THERE? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"
Nothing.
Besides, I could hardly see or hear anything. There was only the howl of the wind in my ears, and my torch couldn't penetrate the thick blanket of rain that was blocking my view of the field.
I knew at this point there was only one thing for me to do. Call the police!
Leaving the blazing aircraft, I battled my way back to my house through the bombardment of the storm. I was soaked through to the bone, and my hands were now numb from the bitter cold.
Reaching the edge of the field, I crossed the embankment into my garden. I then hurried to the back door and let myself back into the house. At last, I was sheltered from the weather. I then proceeded to remove my boots, hang my coat up, and place the torch back under the sink.
Walking into the living room, I found my mobile where I'd left it earlier on the coffee table. Picking it up, I unlocked the device and prepared to dial 999.
Yet, at the exact moment I was about to press the green button, something stopped me in my tracks. It wasn't anything extraordinary, but it was unexpected enough to make me freeze.
It was a short, soft span of knocks at the back door.
My head turned to the kitchen entrance, and I held my breath. I didn't want to feel afraid; however, my gut couldn't help but start to feel nauseous from a sense of apprehensiveness. Who was there? Bearing in mind that my nearest neighbour was half a mile away, and it was about a fifteen-minute drive through a route of narrow country roads to reach Bromyard. Furthermore, the weather would have made that journey slower and more treacherous.
Slowly, I placed my phone back on the table and began to carefully inch my way towards the kitchen. I wanted to see if I could catch a glimpse of whoever it was standing at the door. I'd left the outside light on since I'd ventured outside, so I knew I may have unintentionally led whoever it was to my house.
Suddenly, another span of knocks emitted from the door. This caused me to let out a small gasp. I got another surprise, however, since this time the person didn't stay silent.
"Hello?" I heard a feminine voice call out. "Is anyone at home? I . . . I'm in trouble. I need help . . ."
Now, I've watched way too many horror movies or heard too many stories to trust an unknown visitor asking for help. I crept forward carefully. There was a small window located next to the back door. So, attempting to remain in the shadows, I leant forward to try and see who was standing outside. I furrowed my brow slightly when I failed to spot anyone standing there. I adjusted my position to try and get a better look, nothing.
Eventually, I decided that the only way I was going to get to the bottom of this was to take a chance and open the door. But before I did so, I walked over to the cutlery drawer and retrieved a small kitchen knife. I wasn't going to take any chances without the means to defend myself.
Approaching the door, I took a few deep breaths to prepare my courage. Holding the knife tightly in my right hand, I, at last, unlocked the door, pushed down the handle, and pulled the door towards me.
There was nobody there.
Confused, I leant out into the rain and took a few glances around, eager to spot whoever had been stood at the door only moments before. I couldn't see anyone, they'd completely vanished into the night. I was baffled, but nonetheless frightened.
Retreating to the kitchen, I closed the door and placed the knife down on the nearby work surface. I began to rub my forehead. My brain felt incapable of contemplating what had occurred in the past hour.
"What is going on?" I mumbled softly.
After taking a moment to compose myself, I decided to best thing to do was to follow on where I'd left off. Calling the police.
Returning to the living room, I picked up my phone once again. Yet, this time, I was hesitant before dialling. I took a moment to rehearse what I going to tell the call handler.
When I'd finally decided on something of a memorised script, I unlocked my phone and dialled 999 for a second time. I then pressed the green button and placed the phone to my ear. I listened to the line ring for a few moments; I began to pace the room as I did so.
Yet, it was when I turned to face the kitchen door that my blood ran cold.
"999, which service do you require?" came the receiver's voice in my ear.
However, I wasn't focused enough or had the strength to respond. Standing in the kitchen doorway was the silhouette of a person. They didn't look overly tall, and I couldn't make out anything definite about their features due to the lack of light in the kitchen. Besides, I only had a small lamp turned on in the lounge. The room was too dimly lit.
"Hello?" the emergency handler asked once more. "Which service do you require?"
But, yet again, I didn't respond. I couldn't move a muscle. I could only stare at this intruder who was standing just over ten feet in front of me.
"I, um, greetings," I heard a soft feminine voice speak. "I . . ."
"Who are you? What'd you want?" I managed to blurt out, although a quiver was noticeable in my voice.
To my surprise, the intruder appeared to flinch when they heard my tone.
"Oh, um, I'm so sorry," she said. I saw the silhouette's hands rise. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I saw you open the door. I thought you were allowing me to enter . . ."
I took notice at that moment that she spoke with a smooth Australian accent. But, whoever this girl was, she either was truly mistaken or putting up a solid façade. Either way, I wasn't going to take a chance trusting the word of someone I couldn't even see properly.
All of a sudden, she took a couple of steps forward into the living room. An instinctive feeling caused me to step back.
"Please, believe me, I'm truly sorry if I scared you. I realise I shouldn't have intruded into your home like I did. I promise I'm not going to hurt you. I'm in trouble myself. I can explain everything," I heard her say.
"Get back!" I barked in a raised voice, waving my arm. In a moment of stupidity, my phone slipped from my hand and flew across the room. I heard it bash against the wall.
Despite feeling foolish, I didn't remain silent. "How can I take your word for it? You just let yourself in! I've just called . . ."
I never got the chance to finish that sentence. Whilst I'd been speaking, my feet had continued to back up. And at that moment, I felt my leg hit the edge of the coffee table. Letting out a yelp, I felt myself fall backwards.
The last thing I remember seeing before my head hit the edge of the table was this mysterious girl rushing forward when I began to fall.
I'm also sure I heard the words, "Oh my word," upon hitting the floor.
At that moment, I blacked out.
Well, there's the first chapter over and done with.
I'll consider it something of a 'pilot'.
If you enjoyed it, please let me know and I'll carry on to the next chapter.
Hope to see you soon,
Bye for now!
