2094-January

Mom and Grandmama kept talking about the Monsters. On the TV, they were everywhere. They had big teeth and talons. Snarling and growling as they towered over humans. They looked scary. The news lady kept saying they were eating people--mommies, daddies, kids, and grandparents. They ate everyone.

“Are they going to eat me?”

I remembered asking that question a lot when I was five years old. My mother always did her best to reassure me that I wouldn’t be eaten. Something I never asked was whether she or anyone else I loved would be eaten. If I had asked, I felt certain she would have said no. My mother had no way of knowing that. She had no way of knowing whether I would be eaten. All she was doing was settling down her young daughter so she could have the scraps of a normal childhood until the Monsters finally reached the Village of Gatlise and ate everyone there. After that, nothing would matter anymore.

It was a cool winter morning in early March 2094 when the attack happened. Everything was calm. People had just begun to wake and get about the town to do their shopping for the day. Despite the fact that Monsters had swarmed the globe and began decimating the human population, the Gatlise people of Tennessee were determined to maintain as normal of an existence as possible. Whether they were just waiting for the inevitable or denying the ability of its occurrence, I did not know even after I grew older and understood more about the Monsters.

My home was quiet. My family had just began making breakfast. My grandmother and I played in the living room. Everything was fine right up until the point that it wasn’t. Faint screams penetrated our walls. From the windows, I saw people dashing toward the woods. Our front door banged open.

“Run for your lives!” the man screamed. “They’re coming! They--” An ear-piercing shriek ripped through the air as a lightning quick, humanoid form appeared at the doorway, grabbed the man, and devoured him in a few bites. Bloody chunks remained as the Monster turned its attention into the house.

That was the last thing I remembered.

I woke to the sound of floorboards creaking quietly under cautious footsteps. The house was dark, and an unfamiliar man knelt at my side as he brushed my black hair back from my face.

“What’s your name, dear?” he asked.

“Astrid.” I was at home. Blood was everywhere. The rank stench of decay wafted through the little room. “Where’s Mom? Where’s Grandmama?” Tears filled my eyes as I anticipated the worst.

“I’m sorry, little one… We didn’t get here in time to save them.”