They came in the night, just like the movies and stories always said they would. Not in ships or vessels from the sky, but oozing from the very earth we thought we knew so well.
No one’s sure what caused them to awaken: drilling, mining, an earthquake. It’s been almost impossible to pinpoint the inciting incident.
Seeing the… aliens… hell, I’m not even sure it’s right to call them that, it was terrible. These many-eyed creatures as tall and thin as willow trees, with skin like spilled oil.
We hoped they were peaceful. Some brought gifts in the hopes of appeasing them; others built shrines or painted murals in their likeness. Can I call it a Sword of Damocles? I never understood the kiss-ass approach, if I’m being honest. I considered going to them more than once to see if I could talk with them, but something always warned me away every time.
It wasn’t with a flash of light; it wasn’t a huge explosion or a series of fires. The economy didn’t collapse, nor did it thrive. Everything stayed the same for far too long. Perhaps that’s why, when the other shoe finally dropped, the reaction wasn’t what it should’ve been.
The sun was setting when it happened; the sky was almost blood-red in color. Everything went dark. At first, I thought it was a massive swarm of insects. It was people. Millions of them, all over the world, all hovering hundreds of feet in the air. Just as soon as we saw them, they fell. Even now, I can still hear them hitting the ground. The splattering of blood, the shattering bones. Sickening doesn’t even begin to describe it.
I feel as though I finally understand the stories of the old gods who simply can’t be reasoned with. People ran to the creatures, now all stationed together on the outskirts of towns. The armies of the world, or at least what was left of them, brought their artillery and attempted to wage war. Nothing impacted the aliens. No matter what they did, our new gods didn’t react. People were praying to them, begging them to be merciful or at the very least explain what it was humanity did to deserve this. No answer came.
I don’t know what to think. I spent so much time debating on whether to pledge my undying allegiance or to try to run that I ended up doing neither. Now, I just sit in my house, watching the streets run red.
We haven’t seen another attack like that first one. All the violence is coming from the humans who weren’t killed. Rioting, looting. Humans will take any excuse to turn on one another. Maybe soon things will resolve themselves.
I may consider them our new gods, but I don’t know if that’s accurate. God, I hate that phrase: “I don’t know”. It feels helpless. Like I’m losing a battle I’m not a part of. For now, I’ll stay hidden. Maybe if another attack comes, I’ll be lucky enough to be one of those chosen. Some say I’m lucky to have survived this long, but I can’t bring myself to agree.
