My life had a new purpose: alien caretaker. Ever since it’d let me pet it thanks to the chocolate bribery, it had no problem leaving the blanket bundle to see me. Actually, it seemed to have grown quite curious about me; often I’d catch a glowing yellow eye watch me move about the room. Whenever I brought more food to its tank it kept its gaze on me—hoping for more chocolate, I’d imagine. Softie that I was, I ended up giving the strange little critter chocolate all the time—different kinds of chocolate too, trying to see what it liked most. In the end, I discovered it preferred simple milk chocolate without any extras.

  I continued talking at the little alien while going about my days; the way it fixed its eye on me while I talked made me almost think it was trying to understand me—or at least enjoyed my tone and speech. I was always gentle when I talked to the alien—didn’t want to scare it, of course.

  I didn’t want to bother it, so I refrained from trying to pet it unless it came to me. No surprise of course it was always willing to be pet in exchange for chocolate, but other than that it still liked to stay bundled up in its blankets. I briefly considered taking it out of the tank one time while it laid in my open palm, but I really couldn’t risk the alien getting out or lost or anything.

  The government agents were still combing through the woods, but I kept my distance to not raise any suspicions. Gramps on the other hand antagonized them constantly and followed them around shouting at them to get the hell off his property. Several times agents had to escort him back home so they could continue their work in the woods. Honestly, it was probably good he was being so belligerent; no one would suspect a guilty party of being so obnoxious.

  As quickly as they came, they packed up and left. They told us everything was clear in the woods and all the debris had been removed and they thanked us for our patience—earning a snort from Gramps. The next day I went out to investigate the crash site, and sure enough everything had been completely cleared out (the rock, the crater, even the weirdly frozen trees). Now there was just a strange, barren clearing.

  I wasn’t so optimistic I thought that was the last we’d be seeing of the government, sure there were probably a dozen satellites trained on our home, but at least they’d left us alone for now.

  The next therapy session I had with Sarah seemed to go a different pace than usual; Sarah was really impressed with how much my mood improved. She asked what had happened over the last week, and I said I’d recently started a new project that really preoccupied my mind. Sarah said whatever it was to keep at it.

  Project or otherwise, it really seemed like taking care of the little alien was helping my recovery; I don’t know if it was the excitement over the whole deal, keeping my mind so busy, or if it was the act of being a caregiver to something else, but I felt better than I had in months.

  Talking to the alien helped too, like it was another kind of therapist. I didn’t have to hide anything from it either, so I could be fully open and tell the little critter anything that crossed my mind.

  I ended up telling the little alien my whole story—about the mental breakdown and the aftermath and everything.

  “Right out of high school, I went through the Detroit Fire Academy, got my fire certs, my EMT and then right on through to my medic license. I put a decade into Detroit Rescue, getting all the experience I would ever need, then decided to ‘retire out’ to the suburbs—hoping for a break in all the action.” I told the strange little creature. I sat in my chair leaning into the tank, and while I talked the little alien kept its bright yellow eye fixed on me like everything I said was truly fascinating.

  “I’d seen shootings, stabbings, every kind of car wreck you can imagine. During my rotations on the fire-side we were always busy, but I never got into the field to be busy—I wanted the free time to work on my hobbies, remember?” I confirmed with the little alien. “So, I started applying at smaller fire departments, and with my inner-city experience everyone was interested in my resume—I really could write my own ticket. I ended up in a department with only two stations—didn’t pay as well as the others, but the call volume was really low, figured it would be a chill gig, right?” I sighed and shook my head, “Three years later, I ended up working the most horrible, violent scene I could ever imagine—a hundred times worse than anything I saw in Detroit.”

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  I paused, still seeing it all so vividly in my mind. I let out a deep, weary sigh, “I followed up with some of my cop buddies after the fact, and they said the story was the guy freaked out after his wife served him divorce papers.” I held my hands out, trying to illustrate what I’d experienced, “He took a…a hammer to his wife and three kids and bludgeoned them all to death. It wasn’t slow, there was blood splashed all over the house—even some brain matter on the fucking ceiling.” I shook my head and covered my eyes with a hand, “After it was all over, he put a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, but he fucked it up and when we got there he was still alive—just with a face half-blasted off.” I sat upright again and gestured to the ground, “So there we were, this evil man just killed his wife and children in the most brutal way possible, and we’ve gotta work the scene—had to try and save the sick fuck. Well, we had him just about loaded up for transport and he goes into cardiac arrest—a witnessed arrest, so that means we’ve gotta work the code.” I laughed bitterly, “And I’m the senior medic on scene, so I’m in charge of the whole mess. My EMTs and the cops with me just looked at me like I was…sympathizing with the guy when I started running the code—like I wanted to save the evil bastard. I was just following protocol dude—we can’t choose our patients. I went into robot mode and just let my training take over…”

  I took a deep breath and looked over at the little alien, its glowing eye peeking out of the blankets and I swear it was looking at me with some kind of compassion—like it knew I was in pain.

  “We run the full code—30 minutes, didn’t get him back, thank God. We call it in and get the pronouncement, then we leave. They debriefed us back at the station and they decided to send us all home early for the day. I called off my next shift too, couldn’t sleep at all after being in that house, just kept seeing the broken kids and the guy’s wife, the blood and brains all over. And the worst part is I can still see those judgmental eyes on me from my crew—like they blamed me for how it all went down. The next few weeks are kind of a blur; I was barely sleeping, started really drinking, ended up in the ER for being a danger to myself or some shit and ended up in-patient at a psych facility for a couple weeks. After that the department put me on temporary leave. My grandparents insisted I came back to live with them while I recover, but honestly I don’t know how you recover from all that shit.” I shut my eyes tight, “Every time I close my eyes I just see that nightmare, and there’s no fucking escape from it. Therapy isn’t doing much, that group shit seems to make it worse since people always end up asking why I tried to save that prick, and I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in I don’t know how long.” I rubbed at my eyes roughly, “I just want this shit out of my head—anything to distract me, to move on. I know I’m done being a medic—that’s way passed gone. But I don’t even care what I do jobwise at this point, I just want to get to that next step.” I looked up at the little alien, “But I just fucking can’t.”

  The little alien was looking at me with that wide, adorable eye, fascinated by my words. I chuckled softly, “You have no idea what I’m saying, do you?”

  In response, the little alien pulled itself out of the blanket bundle and leaned into the glass in front of me. It reached up with some of its tentacles towards the lid and wiggled them slightly, as though saying it wanted up.

  “Do you want out?” I asked, but the alien didn’t really respond, it just kept wiggling its tentacles up while keeping its glowing eye on me. I sighed and removed the rocks and pulled the lid off and reached a hand in, and right away the little alien wrapped its tentacles gently around my wrist and pulled itself up into my palm. I pulled it out and sat back in the chair and slowly stroked those translucent veils. The alien trilled happily in response.

  “I guess I don’t really need to worry about that next step for now, I should just focus on taking care of you.” I said softly, and the little alien tugged at my finger with a couple tentacles, moving my finger so I pet the perfect spot.

  The strange little creature from outer space was surprisingly well-behaved; I decided to let it stay out of the tank for the rest of the day, and it had no problem wrapping around my arm or shoulder as I played some games on my laptop. Funnily enough, the little yellow eye seemed to be watching the screen—as though it was watching me play.

  I knew I was probably being stupid; no telling how dangerous the little creature could be. But it was just so small and gentle with me, I honestly wasn’t afraid at all. Despite how crazy and unknown the whole situation was, I realized I totally trusted the little alien and knew it would never hurt me; it was some kindness I desperately needed.

  I decided I would leave the terrarium open from that point on, and when I got ready to turn in for the night, I placed the alien back in the blanket bundle. But no sooner than I flopped onto my own bed, the little alien pulled itself out of the tank with dexterous little tentacles and joined me in bed, nestling on my pillow right next to my head. I chuckled and stroked the little critter with a finger, earning a sleepy, musical trill.

  “All right, you can sleep here from now on.” I said, as big a softie as I’ve ever been.

  Tarot Game

  When Dillion dies, he thinks ita€?s over, until he wakes up in a strange afterlife where death was only the beginning.

  Hea€?s not alone. 78 players, all torn from their final moments, are thrown into a brutal series of survival games, each one twisted around the power and symbolism of the Tarot cards.

  The prize? Not riches, but the ultimate jackpot: a chance to return to life and rewrite their fate.

  If you loved the high-stakes tension of Squid Game, youa€?ll be hooked by this dark, ruthless fight for a second chance.

  a€?LET THE GAME BEGIN!a€?