By the time our leaders realized that there was a threat, the invasion had already begun. Our defenses were inadequate even in the best circumstances, let alone against a foe vastly superior in terms of numbers and technology.
It’s been weeks since anyone has heard from the Prime Minister. I doubt he made it to secure a location before they were overrun.
An explosion rocks the installation.
I’m thrown from my chair as the concrete walls crack and split while the lights flicker and go out. As I struggle to my feet, the backup generators kick in and the emergency lights come on.
Soldiers run just outside my door, followed by a sudden eruption of loud and intense gunfire.
Within seconds the entire installation is engulfed in silence.
They’re just outside.
I pull the top drawer of my desk open and take out a grenade. It feels cold yet comforting in my hand as the door is ripped from its hinges and tossed away.
They enter my quarters walking on three legs while two arms hold their weapons. Reddish-grey scales cover their bodies and I stare into their faces. Small yellow eyes straddling a wet pig-like snout, glare back.
They begin snorting and grunting, trying to communicate.
I don’t waste any time.
I pull the pin.
He held his daughter in his arms, her face pressed up against his chest. His arms ached from holding her. It had always amazed him how fast they grew. He could remember that not too long ago she could barely sit up on her own let alone run around the house like a maniac.
Stroking her hair, she stirred a little bit in his arms and he held his breath. Her face was pale and calm but the eyes did not open. Relieved, he exhaled.
Her fingers had curled over his shirt collar and as he stared at them he was reminded of one of her favorite games. She had called it the Monster Game.
One of them would be the monster, which was always him. He would shut his eyes and hold his mouth open. She was the victim and would giggle, terrified and excited, as she had to insert her finger into the monster’s mouth. For the victim to win, she had to pull her finger out of his mouth before he bit down. The monster would win if he was able to close his teeth on her fingers. From that point on, it turned into a matter of reflexes.
He smiled thinking of those memories.
She stirred again and her eyes fluttered open.
He moaned in sadness as she pulled her head off of his chest and looked at him with cloudy, white eyes.
“Oh, my baby…”
There was no recognition of her father whatsoever; her eyes void of emotion.
The Monster Game was real now, their roles reversed.
It was a game he did not want to win.
Not this time.
He simply shut his eyes as she lunged forward and bit into his throat.