Science Fictions & Fantasies Module Exercise
The Alien was the most horrific, repulsive and all round repellent specimen that I had ever laid eyes upon. It’s freckled, scarlet flesh appeared to droop as though it were halfway between solid and liquid. Its flabby arms were attached as appendages to its pear-shaped body and, what the Alien lacked in hands, it made up for with hideous claws. At a closer inspection, I saw they were made from a material not too dissimilar to the ivory in an elephant’s tusk. Gazing down, my eyes fell upon four tentacular legs, thick and resplendent in a yellow-tinged slime, that allowed it to slither silently across the terrain. These, too, were covered in the same freckled flesh as the rest of the beast. It filled my heart with an impenetrable dread to imagine just what the creature might do with those tentacles if it should detect my presence. I took a step back and now the head of the Alien became visible and, oh, how I wished that it had stayed hidden in the gloom. The rounded triangular head sat as a gloopy mess upon the revolting shoulders, (there was no neck to speak of), and it leered with piercing black eyes as large as dinner plates. But most repugnant of all was the hairline slit in its flesh where I assumed its mouth must surely be. Above it there were two tiny air-holes, the only indication of, (I assumed), nostrils. Yet worst of all was the stale, acrid smell that issued from the air around it; I felt quite nauseous almost to the point of fainting. It was all I could do to keep my bearings and focus on passing by the Alien undetected.
From the personal diary of Professor Edmund McMillan, c. 1864 A.D.