In the vast distance of what is now suburbia wasteland, pillars of concrete and mortar brick fall to the ground with a crash, once symbols of industrial progress. The aliens invaded on the first falls of winter snow. They came marching in their 200-foot tall robot suits and combing through on foot, destroying buildings and Earth’s inhabitants bit by bit, as if they were merely roaches dialed for extermination. Why were they here? What did they want? Couldn’t they be reasoned with?
Jennifer and Daniel reasoned from behind a giant piece of fallen concrete that this was the end of it all, ready or not. They reasoned in whispers, at first terrified for their lives that one of the 15-foot tall purple extra-terrestrials would find them hiding here, and they’d be zapped into oblivion like yesterday’s burnt toast. Their stomachs were growling, having not been nourished for some time. (close to 24 hours and counting…) Where did humans go to eat when ever Taco Bell had been vaporized like tequila in Mexico on a scorching summer’s day? This wasn’t like the movies, where the world powers got together and summoned the might of their militaries, and in one enormous display of human egotism and power, blasted the aliens into the afterlife five billion galaxies away. This wasn’t like a science fiction book where the invasion took weeks or months, giving the humans of Earth time to prepare, to gather their defensive resources together.
No, it wasn’t like that. In less than a days’ time they had arrived (without any of NASA’s fancy billion-dollar equipment able to detect it) and in less than a days’ time, what was once on Earth was no longer there.
The aliens spoke a language that had absolutely nothing in common with the English language, or anything even a hop, skip, and a galaxy’s toss similar to the resemblance of Roman language derivative. The aliens made mostly gurgling sounds from the pits of their throats, sounding like nothing of Earth for that matter.
Daniel had viewed a group with binoculars and observed that some of them could change the deep colors of their retinas, from purple to yellow to red to black, which seemed to convey emotions of some sort (they didn’t seem to show it in facial expressions, at least not recognizable), although you couldn’t call these feelings human.
Outwardly, the aliens were a violent race, at least in regard to humans; they had obviously come to the third planet from the big orange Sun with the intentions of destruction as the end result. This was like War of the Worlds, but without the time for a radio broadcast. All the radio stations and satellite towers had been demolished with ease within the first hour of the invasion.
Jennifer and Daniel had watched (from what was hours ago the comforts of their suburbia home) as newscasters from around the world depicted terror and destruction (what else was new) on a world scale. The aliens didn’t distinguish between classes; third, second, or first world, they blasted them to the fourth world just the same.
They had watched as technologies invested with years of building were annihilated within the hour. Not a word from the invaders: no loud speaker, no customer service satisfaction ( thank you, this invasion is very important to us), no explanation of what was going on. Not so much as a hint, outside the explosions in the sky.
Screen by screen, every channel and newscast around the world went blank. The aliens had technology superior to that of humans, which shut down vehicles like fat-pocketed lawyers shut down equality of rights. In a matter of an hourglass that was only a decimal fraction on the complete timeline of human civilization, the entire planet had been nearly wiped out; now nearly devoid of all life of Earth origins. Now wiped away, all traces of human progress. Shopping malls around the world were reduced to piles of rubble, worthless Gucci purses, former car dealerships with chunks of BMW metal splayed about– suburbia transformed instantly to wastelands. Even buildings of religious significance were turned to ash.
Now, there was nothing, although it was hard to imagine. Surreal, even through their own eyes. The national forests were burning, so the aliens had no interest in the Earth’s environment. What they had planned for it after the fact, nobody knew. Once the humans were gone, maybe they were going to use the planet to grow crops? Maybe they would change the environment to suit the needs of their species? One thing was for certain– the fate of the human race wasn’t even in their cards of consideration. There were no conferences, no negotiations, no treaties between species. This was a clean slate they wanted, everything gone.
Daniel and Jennifer hid behind the chunk of concrete, holding each other. Jennifer was once crying, and even Daniel at one time, but not anymore. What was left but to accept their fate? There were lamer ways to depart this world than being destroyed by aliens. There was cancer, car accident, old age, a strange disease, death by elephant squatting; the list went on and on. Was this return of the aliens that helped build all that crazy shit in South America? Or was this a different race?
Daniel and Jennifer were long-time lovers. They kissed behind the concrete.
The aliens invaded on the first fall of winter snow, and flakes of fresh, soft precipitation in white fluff form glazed their cold faces. There were no words left to speak (anything they could have ever said had been spoken anyways) and they wanted to delay their Earth departure, whispered voices mot likely attracting the aliens searching for the last remaining humans. That was Daniel and Jennifer. The last remaining humans, as far as they could tell. Desolation surrounded them. It was instantaneous.
Suddenly, they could hear nearby footsteps. Soft at first. Then heavier. Definitely not human, and in the vicinity. Whikoooooooo. Whikoooooooooooooooo. A sort of cooing sound (birdlike?) , perhaps a call to another alien, came from nearby surroundings. Fire burned all around them. Buildings gave way, their foundations compromised. It looked like a tornado had tossed everything about, making upscale homes toy houses and trees matchsticks.
They way the alien breathed was strange too ( of course it was, they were from another planet), with deep inhalations and the sound of roaring fire-breath upon exhalations. The 15-foot creature’s lungs must have been at least three-times that of homo sapiens, they reasoned. Did they even have lungs, or was there a different vital mechanism for their breathing? Did they live on a planet as oxygen-filled as Earth? Perhaps they did, since they could breath on Earth without special suits or breathing apparatus.
Daniel and Jennifer reminisced together (somehow, they could read each other’s thoughts) about how scholars and religious fanatics used to speculate how the world would end. Some said by another Ice Age, some said by warfare on a massive scale, some said by widespread plague, some said through global warming, some said by the hand of the creator himself (itself?). In the end, did the means to the end matter? Or was it really an end? The world would go on, inhabited by a new species, maybe not missing the primate presence at all.
Daniel and Jennifer had come to terms with their insignificance at this moment, and it was no longer depressing. Although, there was of course, still that primal urge to keep on surviving ( carry on, said the genetic code), they realized that they sized up to these giants the way a zebra sized up to a lion. Or the way one of those prehistoric Wooly mammoths sized up to a T-Rex.
Humans, within the two hours time, were no longer the top of the food chain (with their so-called intelligence and innovations) but had fallen off the ladder to the mud puddle below.
Why did the aliens wait till now to attack? How long had they known about Earth? Did they have a government, or a leader, or something similar? Did they believe in a God or Gods? Were they themselves Gods?
Footsteps, right above them. Daniel and Jennifer closed their eyes, held their embrace for dear life. They knew that now the creature stood above them; their time was up, they had been found. They opened their eyes, the last thing they might ever see.
The creature was towering above them, eyes the size of basketballs (glowing green), skin a scaly purple. The dome of it’s skull was shaped like a raindrop ( a giant one the size of a bicycle tire), its’ skin slimy but smooth along the mid-line and waist. It had webbed-sort of feet (eleven toes on each, and dexterity in all of them), six figures and six hands. It stood upright on four feet. It’s legs were like sturdy branches of an elder tree; strong, muscular-like that of a bull. At the dome of it’s head, veins protruded and throbbed at rapid-speed (along with it’s thoughts?) and there was no sign of sex despite it being naked (was it asexual?)
It’s feet crunched in the snow and it breathed fire-like, a short few feet away from them. It’s breath smelled like rotten fish, it’s teeth a decaying black sort of color, many of them jagged. Did intelligence and dental work not go hand-in-hand?
The creature was armed with a deadly weapon, and surprisingly, the creature set it down. The alien pushed a button on a peculiar gadget that made an Iphone 6 look like a children’s toy, and a robotic voice spoke English, as evidently, the alien’s vocal cords couldn’t perform on it’s own. The vowels weren’t possible to pronounce with their gigantic gizzard-tongues.
Then, the words that the device spoke were more terrifying than being destroyed in itself. “Hello. Humans,” it said in staggered speech. “You. Are. The. Chosen. Woooons.” (they depicted it meant to say ones) “You must come now with us.”
They came on winter’s first snowfall, and this wasn’t the end as they had presumed.