"Beyond" Novel Prologue

Prologue (first draft)
        The man is Awake.
        His own being is coming into awareness.
        Blurry visions of nothingness clouds his oddly clairvoyant mind. Instantly, his very complex mind, something other-worldly, outlandish, not understandable to humankind, starts to calculate figures and patterns as to where he is located and how he got to his location. 
        Location: Unknown Sect in Department of Homeland Security. Transportation: (Drugged) Sports utility vehicle, 9 hours 21 minutes 18 seconds.
        His sharp eyes and mind revert back to its original setting, vision clearing and giving a clear view of where he is. Thoughts that do not belong to him take place in his mind. Thoughts that belong to people who are in a close radius to him. He is a Stigma...the planet Illustratio...tests show he has no sense of touch...exterminate immediately. He can sense that they have human "touch," something that their own kind has yet to discover what and how it's truly formed in humans. There are 572 outcomes to my current situation. I am aware of this.
        He is inside a fully metal-crafted room with a door and one-way glass pane in front of him, lights built into the ceiling. They give off an eerie illumination to the metal, making it seem like it is glowing. He realizes that he is bound to a metal chair, wire ropes cutting into his wrists and ankles tightened onto the legs of the chair, wrists painfully behind him. He doesn't feel this pain, however. There is dry, stale blood all over his head and wrists, yet he ignores these matters too. His black, disheveled hair was sprawled over his temples and forehead. His full black attire and his perfectly crafted complexion had the people who ran this government program take interest of him, of trying to find these 500, and killing every last one of them. They are a threat to every single human being on this Earth.
        His mouth struggles to utter any sound, since he calculated from the beginning that his throat was dry for 10 hours, 26 minutes, and 19 seconds, due to how irritated his larynx muscles are, and what amount of saliva is left in his mouth and tongue. Suddenly, a flood of visions barreled through his mind, depicting various scenes of him in seemingly serious situations. Two suspicious men arrive at his house...Thorough questioning...Abruptly taken from his home, from his wife and two children...wife shot in arm...drugged by a cloth stained in knockout gas...bound in ropes and taken to SUV...drove westbound.... 
         His possibilities suddenly narrow greatly. I am 94% likely that I am going to die. He doesn't feel anything inside, knowing that he fulfilled his duty for his society in giving his life towards science, and now he will be able to go back to his planet. 
         The door slowly opened. A dark man slipped into the room. He has laser blue eyes and black, clean-cut hair. He wears a long trenchcoat, the bottom edges flail in the air anytime he moves. A bright gold badge is pinned onto his chest. Mr. Eugene Winnecker, DHS First-Class Detective. His leather combat boots squeak anytime he walks. He dresses in a similar attire as the restricted man. He seems to hold something behind his back. A fully-loaded 9mm Beretta, crafted March of this year. 
         Winnecker steps in front of the man. The man bounded to the chair suddenly calculates that Winnecker will inflict bodily harm on him, only to make him give information about their society's motive for their experiments on all life on Earth. He visualizes the many patterns that the man can inflict his harshness on him. Winnecker suddenly, and seemingly without thought, punches him hard in the cheek and uppercuts him on the jaw very forcefully. Blood spurts out of his nose and mouth. He does it without any feeling either, wearing a look of of pure hatred and disgust for that man.
        The man in the chair spits out the blood accumulating in his mouth to the side of him. He slowly turns his head around...and spits right in Winnecker's face, only to intentionally provoke him more. Winnecker ignored his action and wiped the saliva off his nose. "Julian Bohm, is it?" 
        He did not reply.
        "I'm assuming you know what is going on, so I'm going to go straight to the point with you."
        His blunt voice cut through the air like a double-edged sword. Julian still did not reply.
        Winnecker got uncomfortably close to his face. "Why is your kind here?" His voice felt like it echoed into eternity.
        Winnecker feels annoyed by his ignorance. He repeated his question, voice trembling and backed with sheer force, "WHY ARE YOU HERE?!!!!" He raised his gun.
        Julian simply stares into nothingness, having no care of what is going on. He can sense all of his thoughts, none of them pleasant.
        Winnecker is fueled with pure rage, eyes bulging from their sockets, face red hot. He turned around and walked away from him, towards the one-way glass pane. He gives an odd signal to an unseen figure across the pane that can obviously see both of them. He is going to kill me in 56 seconds.
         He swiftly turns around and walks toward Julian again. "You already know your fate, don't you?"
         He raised his gun to Julian's forehead. His face is hard, but with a cold stare burning holes through Julian's head.
         "I am giving you one last chance. What is your kind doing on this earth?" 
         Julian stared at him, time not defined to either of them. Then what seemed like forever, Julian finally uttered his last words on this planet. "Kill me." 
         Those two diminutive words held such great power behind them.
         Winnecker cocked his gun ready. "Very well then." He took a deep breath...
         ...and pulled the trigger. 
         The sound abruptly ceased as soon as it commenced. The single bullet shell bounced off the wall to the right of Winnecker.
         A single 9mm hole cut a straight path--skin, brain, nerves, and all--through Julian's forehead. Blood spurted from the area and is slowly dripping down his face. His face never changes. It is as if he never actually died.
         Winnecker clacked his jaws together. He wiped Julian's blood off his badge. He blinked and swiftly walked out of the dimly lit room. 
         His deed was done.
         The man is Asleep.


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Novel / Novella
writing Emmano7291
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This is an early concept of a novel that I am working on. The novel is about an alien race who has been experimenting on humans since their very existence, and they have sent 500 of their own to interact more with them and to be able to experience human "touch," a raw unexplained power invested in all human beings. Their planet has been doing this because they are suffering from many disasters that they want to know why they can't experience feeling of a loss or gain. So, they try to invest and experiment on human beings to harness that power by doing whatever they have to, from pushing ideas and thoughts into people's minds to creating natural disasters, all from their own supernatural ability to see the effect human "touch" can have. After many failed attempts of the aliens harnessing that power, there are six of the 500 that are able to experience "touch." But the consequences start to escalate from there...
A Word from the Writer
I have had this idea after watching a couple TV sci--fi action dramas, like Lost and Touch, and I was influenced by their message so I have decided to mix those two concepts of those shows into something "beyond" measure. What humans and aliens alike are experiencing in this novel are beyond them. Beyond is the working title for the novel.
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