Ben entered the old, familiar apartment, the door shut firm behind him. Good to be back. He kicked off his shoes and headed for the kitchen. I guess whoever was here last left all the lights on. He opened the fridge and browsed the selection of food within. Apple, sure. Ooh, honeycrisp, mom did remember! He peeled off the sticker, threw it in the trash, then hopped up on the counter and began munching. About three bites in, he jumped back down to the floor. Mom hates it when we sit on the counters. Forgot about that.
He walked along the thick carpet in the living room and plopped down on the dark blue couch, across from the small flat screen TV they rarely used anymore since the triplet brothers had flown the coop. Another substantial chunk of apple gone, the juicy crunch of his bite breaking the silence of the apartment. He stretched out on the couch in the meantime, a contented smile on his face.
Mom and dad should be back by tonight from their little second honeymoon. Definitely need to wait for them. Rob and Sam should get here soon too. He finished off the apple. Need something to do. He wriggled on the couch, angling so that he could pull his phone out of his pocket.
Did I throw away that apple core? I think I did. He scrolled through the various updates and memes of the day. This got old after about ten minutes, or twenty, or thirty. He lost count at some point. He took a moment to study the old Pakistani rug dad had brought home from deployment and hung up like a tapestry over the couch. Dad had surprised the whole family that day, nonchalantly eating some potato chips at the kitchen when had brought the boys home from school. Two lighthouse paintings that mom favored flanked it, gifts from her own parents in Maine. Been forever since I even thought of school since I dropped out of high school. He frowned. Wait, parents would have thrown a fit if I’d done that. I didn’t do that.
Need something to do. He pushed himself out of the cushions of the brown couch, stood with purpose, then promptly forgot why he stood in the first place. Need something to do, right. Dad’s birthday gift shouldn’t arrive for another couple days. Ben walked back into the kitchen, opening various cupboards. Got enough food, dishes are all clean. Damn. He shut the last door, the rattling of the bowls the only sound in the apartment. Or was it cups? Whatever.
May as well check on the old room, see if there’s any evidence of dad’s claims that they’re renting it out to a hobo while we’re gone. A quick five steps down the hall between the living room and the kitchen later, and he poked his head in the mostly empty room, with the bunk bed and normal bed pushed against the wall. Nothing else in here? He caught sight of a Pakistani rug, hung up like a tapestry along the wall opposite the beds, flanked by two lighthouse paintings.
Oh, I guess they started decorating when we moved out. Then why are our beds still here? Wait, we didn’t move out to college that long ago, I guess that makes sense. But wait, that was years ago. I’ve never been to college. That pissed mom off.
Wait, I have to be honest with myself. Since when did I care about what mom thinks?
His head in a fog, he turned around and began fishing his keys out of his other pocket as he walked. Need some air. A handful of steps later, he stared at the blank expanse of wall where the door should have been. Where the fuck is the door? Why the hell-
***
Ben entered the apartment, the door shut firm behind him. Good to be back. He kicked off his shoes and headed for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and browsed the selection of food within. Apple, sure. He peeled off the sticker, threw it in the trash, and hopped up on the counter and began munching. About three bites in, jumped back down to the floor. Mom hates it when we sit on the counters. Forgot about that.
He paced until he finished his apple. Need something to do. From what I can tell, everything’s covered for the party, though. Cake was in the fridge, presents for dad are incoming, can’t think of anything else. He pulled out and twirled his keys around his finger as he continued to pace. His customary smile felt forced, somehow. Something screamed at the back of his mind, though he couldn’t pinpoint what it said.
Just need to wait for the rest of the family to get here. Just want to see dad again, now that he’s finally retired from the Marines. Honestly, I hope he keeps mom from drinking too hard. Again. But this is still boring, and I’ve only been here for about ten minutes. Or has it been thirty? Whatever.
May as well check on those plants mom keeps by the window sill. Those bulb things with water in them are cool and all, but then mom keeps forgetting about them. He entered the living room. Huh. Could have sworn there was a window in here. Their room, maybe? I know she doesn’t trust the three of us to keep a thing alive.
He poked his head into the master bedroom. Queen sized bed, a dresser with a large attached mirror for mom’s various accessories, a sizable painting of a mountain background over the bed. No window in here, either. Bathroom? No window.
This is weird. I don’t remember there being absolutely no windows in here. Hell, how long have they even had this place? He poked his head into his old bedroom, the one he had shared with his brothers. Beds, a desk, my backpack, and no fucking window. The hell?
He ducked back out to the hallway and scratched the back of his head. I don’t remember the no window thing. That is definitely not right. I can’t remember how I got here, actually. Hell, I can’t even remember-
***
Ben entered the apartment, the door shut firm behind him. Good to be back. He kicked off his shoes and headed for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and browsed the selection of food within, though he closed the door a minute later. Too quiet right now.
He bounced on his toes for a bit, first considering crashing on the dark red couch in the living room, then at the dining table. Waiting for dad. Just gotta wait for dad. And mom, I guess. He drummed his hands against a nearby countertop, a rapid beat that could’ve belonged in any rock song.
Need something to do. It’s too quiet here. No cars or neighbors or anything. He eyed the empty bottles on the counter in the corner. He sighed. Mom been drinking again? I thought she got over that. Wait, when? She never got over that. Wait, she did. Last year? Last time dad got back? Ben shook his head, willing the cloudiness to go away and the memories to return.
Dad came back? When? That doesn’t seem right, don’t know why. But I’m waiting for him right now. So why can’t I remember-
***
Ben entered the apartment, the door shut firm behind him. Guess I’m back. He began the process of kicking off his shoes, then something stopped him. I’ve done this before. Maybe. He moved on, not bothering to remove his shoes.
Gotta wait for dad. Gotta wait for Sam. Gotta wait for Rob. Just gotta wait. Just a bit longer. He passed by the cracked wall where that red and white lighthouse picture used to hang. I need something to do. Hell, what am I doing? Not here, in general. This is Maryland. But I was living in Colorado. No, I am living in Colorado. Last thing I remember, Rob was talking about Bri the day before she visited. Then what-
***
Ben entered the apartment, the door shut firm behind him. Home sweet fucking home. He kicked an empty bottle out of the way as he worked his way inwards. Half these lights need changing. The fuck is mom doing? The hell is dad doing? Why are me, Sam, and Rob even bothering coming here? An aluminum beer can crunched under his foot. He spat and kept walking.
Honestly, she couldn’t even be bothered to notice her own damn kids. We slip out in the middle of the night and it takes her a week to even send a damn text asking where we are. Why are we checking up on her? Why bother? This is dad’s problem.
What the fuck am I even saying? Dad’s dead in a miserable sand pit a thousand miles away.
***
Ben’s eyes cracked open, taking far too long to focus in the dark room he found himself in. A bare handful of dim yellow lights provided only the lowest amount of illumination possible. His heart beat ever so slowly, in sync with his rasping breath. He heard air moving through another throat off to his right. The muscles of his neck twitched to life, tensing as he tried to simply move his head to give himself a view of something besides a pitted old ceiling. He paused for a moment, catching sight of what looked suspiciously like a crude smiley face etched into the plaster.
After a few seconds of effort, his head flopped to the side, giving him a blurry view of a tiny figure. Beside him lay Miya, out cold on a wooden table much like the one he found himself on. Several wires attached to different points along her skull lead to a braided bundle, dropping off the head of her table and out of sight. Ben twitched, feeling similar wires on his own head. Bad. What? Help. His jaw refused to cooperate, merely splitting his mouth open to allow his dry tongue to flop out. Motion caught the corner of his eye. His heartbeat picked up a notch. He bent his neck a few degrees, his body responding slowly but surely.
Past his feet he caught sight of a naked humanoid figure, hunched over a screen. He regained enough control to focus on the screen. Utterly alien script scrolled past, meaningless to Ben, though the figure seemed to devote its whole attention to it. On some unknown signal, it bolted upright and scuttled out of view. Its movements were inhuman, joints bending at the wrong angles, or joints where there shouldn’t have been any.
I don’t want to be here. As an experiment, he took a deep breath. His muscles responded better than before, even if it was something so simple. The haze in his head was dissipating. He next tried his arm, getting it to at least twitch and bend slightly. His fingers followed suit a moment later. Great. Fantastic. He froze as the figure scuttled back into view, hunching back over the screen. Ben counted ten heartbeats before trying to move again. A grunt escaped his throat. The figure stiffened. Fuck. No.
It tapped a few buttons on the screen and twisted to gaze right at him with a dozen black marbles embedded in what looked like its nose-less and ear-less face. Ben fought to get up, to fight back, to escape, to do anything. His eyes only rolled back up as his arm flopped uselessly at his side.
Darkness overtook him once more.
***
Ben found himself standing, not in an old, familiar apartment, but a gigantic kitchen. A colossal granite countertop dominated the center of the room, absolutely clean and spotless. Rich. Several kitchen appliances lined the counter on the far wall. Ben squinted, watching them change from blender to set of steak knives to a mixing bowl, all of which looked brand new and never used.
“Bwah?” he muttered to himself, struggling to comprehend exactly what it was he was watching.
A sharp, surprised intake of breath caused him to whip around, catching sight of a woman. Miya stood before him with an expression of shock and rage. Rather than the partially grown out shaved head he’d always known on her, her black hair reached down past her shoulders. And, impossibly, she stood a little taller, probably an inch over five feet. The acne scarring along her cheeks had vanished, or perhaps that was simply the makeup. The perfume and dress, however, he’d never seen or smelled before.
“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?” demanded Miya.
“Miya!” he began in a rush. “You’re not going to believe this, but there’s some freaky alien holding us captive. We’ve got wires attached to our head and everything. You gotta snap out of it!”
The shock and wrath on her face morphed into confusion. He opened his mouth to continue-
***
Ben found himself standing, not in an old, familiar apartment, but a gigantic kitchen.
Stone Burners 
Another good chapter mate