Estimated reading time — 4 minutes
I remember it as clear as if it was yesterday, although it’s been several years. Back then we were all so naive, believing ourselves to be alone in the universe. Some even went as far as to say we were at the peaceful center of it. But that day, everything changed.
I awoke that morning to find the world just as I’d left it the day before. The sky was gray and softly weeping, a less-than-gentle breeze swayed the trees and plants, bending some to their limits but not quite breaking them. Despite the day starting as it always had, there was an uneasiness that I couldn’t shake.
Now, I know that most who know me would tell you that I’m slightly more paranoid than others my age but that time was different. The air was slightly heavier than usual, the food and drink I had for breakfast left a bitter after taste in my mouth and even the moods of the ones I called family seemed unnaturally low. It was as if the whole world, or at least the part that I lived in, could feel it coming.
The heavy, suffocating atmosphere in my home threatened to drag me to the depths that my family had already been acquainted to, so I’d opted to go outside. I figured a brisk walk would help me clear my mind and possibly help with the restlessness in my chest.
I was fortunate to have been born in a privileged family. Our home was rather large and the area behind it (which some might call a garden but I liked to call our forest) was my standard refuge when I wanted to escape from the house. This was where I went.
In the heart of our silent and tranquil forest there was a small clearing; a perfect circle that I requested to be made specifically for me. None of my other family members ever came into our forest, so my parents didn’t argue much about it.
So there I was, at my special, quiet place in the heart of our forest, when a faint rumbling touched my ears. I turned, thinking that perhaps an animal had made it into the confines of our land, but the forest was as deadly silent as it had always been.
The rumbling, still barely intelligible, sounded again and I finally noticed that it came from the thick deck of gray clouds high above my head. Not once in my lifetime had we had a storm. Not even my parents had lived long enough to have experienced that kind of weather.
Part of me was afraid, but the larger part of me was curious, so I sat there as I stared at the sky. When the first streak of bright light flashed across the sky, from horizon to horizon, I stared in awe. It wasn’t until the low rumble from before erupted in a cacophony of what can only be described as roaring that the fear took over. The roar crashed down from the sky and trembled me to my very core.
That was when I ran. I ran as fast as I could, being careful not to trip over or slam into any obstacles. High above me I could see lights flashing back and forth. The entire sky lighting up as if the star that our planet circled around was shining through the gray clouds.
I saw them descend. Strange metal objects coated in fire broke through the gray canvas of the sky and in the distance I could hear them crashing into the ground. When I finally reached the border of our forest, a gigantic metal contraption had nestled itself in a clear area of our garden. Its coating of fire had already dissipated but it still smoldered as if it had been touched by the fires of my darkest nightmares.
The metal contraption opened on one side and I remember ‘it’ walking out. It was the first of ‘them’ that I had ever seen in my life and it would surely not be the last. Its eyes with pupils of a size I’d never seen before were oddly positioned on what could only have been its head. There were patches of a string-like material on the top-most part of its head and thin strips of this string lining the upper part of its eyes. Below the eyes was a part I still don’t know the name of, but it had a pair of holes, similar to our ears. And its ears were strangely protruding from the side of its head. The only thing about its head that seemed normal was its mouth; assuming the opening at the bottom of the face was its mouth. Its front legs had worm-like appendages on the ends and it only used its hind legs to stand and walk.
The first of them walked to my family, who had moved themselves outside out of curiosity, and began producing horrific sounds. Its tones varied from low to high and the coarseness of it nearly made my ears bleed. I could see my family grab the sides of their heads and scream in agony.
The ‘things’ seemed shocked or startled and their front legs grabbed something from their backs, pointing whatever it was at my family. As I stood there, half hidden behind the vegetation of our forest, I watched my family slowly go up in flames. Their terrified screeching filled what was left of my ears and saturated me with numbness. The numbness saved my life because it clenched my lungs and stopped me from screaming. It didn’t last for very long but at the time it had felt like an eternity of torture.
That was my first encounter with them. This vicious, bipedal species has long since taken over our world and even today their ships still rain from the sky. They build their square homes of wood, stone and metal and they eat our plants and our animals. This cruel and unforgivable species that has killed so many of my kin.
I will not rest until all of these ‘humans’ are dead.
Credit To – Ouroboros