Abducted

The vast night sky opened up above him.
All across it, stars were scattered like dark, fluorescent magic lanterns.
As he stared upwards into the infinity of his imprisonment, he suddenly saw them:
Huge dark shapes hovering a few miles above ground. Hiding like giant, black jellyfish with their massive undersides cunningly decorated with fake night sky.
Alien supreme technology.
Extra-terrestrial smoke and mirrors.
He enjoyed the sight, even though it gave him chills down his spine. It was still beautiful, and left him awestruck.
Little did he know that they would soon be onto him.

The blinding light seemed to shine from within every atom in the room. His limbs were frozen, and the most terrible fear he had ever encountered filled his whole being.
The Alien stood before him, as if hovering in the middle of the room, with sinister black endless eyes penetrating his earthbound mammalian nervous system like a razor.
Vix tried to scream, but the scream just backfired on him, and turned into yet another wave of horror inside him.
He could do nothing.
He was completely in the creature’s power. Alien power.
His fear was multiplied by his helplessness. What next? Probes? Visions of Apocalyptic horrors? Implants?
Or death?

“You are Salmon!” the creature suddenly said, mind to mind and soundless, his starman tongue messing around inside Vix’s head.
“S… salmon?” Vix thought back. Frozen.
“Salmon”, the Alien repeated, without the slightest trace of human emotion.
Vix stared as puzzled as he could possibly stare, unaided by functioning facial muscles, back at the creature.
“You are the Salmon of the Galaxy”, the Alien continued, and then added: “You know what Salmon is, right?”
“R…red..f…f…fish?”, Vix suggested.
“Never mind the colour. It is irrelevant. As most of your human associations usually are.” His black eyes and strict facial expression instantly made Vix agree. Then the starman said: “What does Salmon do?”
“S…wim?” Vix suggested.
“Swim”, The Alien repeated, then said; “Swim. And wander. Salmon wander. Their whole existence is dependent on their wandering, dependent on constant movement. They need to move, to obtain oxygen, and to be exposed to uncertainty. To be exposed to danger. They need all this in order to experience. To grow. Growth is the purpose of All. And Salmon, like all creatures, need purpose.”
Vix could feel his body lose a fraction of the weight of the paralysis - though just a fraction.
The Alien continued; “Instead, the human breed chooses the opposite. You choose to stay in confinement. To ‘settle down’. Build structures that weigh you down further. You rather choose to create an artificial world around you than to live in the one that’s already there. The one that would give you the lives that would allow you to be in tune with yourselves. The lives you were born to live.”
Vix tried to think “OK”, as if just to make sure they already agreed, but the Alien went on: “You call this artificial world your ‘culture’. Your ‘civilization’ - a system that facilitates communication from human to human, exclusive of all other life forms. A system that experiences nothing but what has already been experienced by the very same culture. Errors. Repeated. Multiplied. And you start confining other creatures too, like Salmon - another highly migratory species like yourselves.”
Vix started to fear he’d been abducted by some intergalactic fishing enthusiast, deeply unhappy with the way his prey had settled down and removed the cat-and-mouse factor from his hunting game.
“Do you know why the Salmon you breed in your fish farms are ridden with illness and defects?” the Alien asked.
“No”, Vix replied.
“Because of the very fact that you attempt to breed them in fish farms.”
“Oh.”
“It is the whole basic idea that is wrong. It is not some detail or some undiscovered ‘solution’. It is rotten at root-level. Like with your own lives. You only create fear for yourselves and the other creatures you trap inside your discordant culture. Don’t you see that?”
Vix didn’t see that.
The Alien stared at him and made him go back to the totally frozen state once more.
“What does it take to get through to you?” the spaceman shouted inside his mind, and Vix feared that his time as a Salmon-like organism in the Galaxy was up.
Instead, there was a long pause.
And then, the initially terrifying extra-terrestrial being clapped his hands, and some strange music started playing.
And before Vix could react to this sudden shift, the Alien had started dancing, and to an even greater shock, after a few more bars of music, he started singing:

These boots are made for walking
And that’s just what they’ll do
One of these days these boots are gonna
Walk all over you

And then, everything went dark again.