When They came, it was with the inevitability of the tides. As the Sun darkened, and the blood red moon swelled in the starless night sky, They swarmed over the Earth. They came out of the corners, from underneath us, twisting angles and reality, driving mankind mad.
The tissue thin sanity of the human race was torn, bent, folded, spindled, and, beast-like, we mangled ourselves, human tearing into human with a frothing rage never before seen on our sorry little world, to the sound of Their mad, cacophonous laughter. Our blood ran into the hungry soil of what had been our planet, for Their amusement.
The ones who succumbed to the insanity, and those killed in the First Days of Their Return, they were the lucky ones. As They folded space/time into a hideous shape more to Their liking, the dwindling numbers of mankind found no solace in their holes and hideaways. As reality shifted and oozed into its new form, the last survivors found that their compatriots would suddenly shudder and swell, to be torn apart as one of Them was born, ready to savor the terror and the slaughter to follow.
In less time than we could possibly imagine, humanity vanished from existence. The last human, the first captured when They arrived, was forced to watch the last group of resistors degraded, tortured, broken, the shattered soul of each consumed in turn. Crucified, eyes unable to close, the last man was kept alive by Their will until, as a final terrible benediction, Their leader revealed Its true form to the tattered thing once a man. With one final, horrible sound, the soul of the last man was consumed and enjoyed, by Them.
As the last scream faded, the leader's chief lieutenant came forth to await instructions.
'Alright, enough fun,' the leader said, suppressing a burp, 'Tell the Boys to start scouring the planet, and have the Unfolders reset the physical laws back to the zero set. Don't let Them slack off, the Boss wants to plant the next batch of humans tomorrow! He says this time he's going to let them run up to producing atomic fusion, maybe we can harvest without all the hard work...'
The tissue thin sanity of the human race was torn, bent, folded, spindled, and, beast-like, we mangled ourselves, human tearing into human with a frothing rage never before seen on our sorry little world, to the sound of Their mad, cacophonous laughter. Our blood ran into the hungry soil of what had been our planet, for Their amusement.
The ones who succumbed to the insanity, and those killed in the First Days of Their Return, they were the lucky ones. As They folded space/time into a hideous shape more to Their liking, the dwindling numbers of mankind found no solace in their holes and hideaways. As reality shifted and oozed into its new form, the last survivors found that their compatriots would suddenly shudder and swell, to be torn apart as one of Them was born, ready to savor the terror and the slaughter to follow.
In less time than we could possibly imagine, humanity vanished from existence. The last human, the first captured when They arrived, was forced to watch the last group of resistors degraded, tortured, broken, the shattered soul of each consumed in turn. Crucified, eyes unable to close, the last man was kept alive by Their will until, as a final terrible benediction, Their leader revealed Its true form to the tattered thing once a man. With one final, horrible sound, the soul of the last man was consumed and enjoyed, by Them.
As the last scream faded, the leader's chief lieutenant came forth to await instructions.
'Alright, enough fun,' the leader said, suppressing a burp, 'Tell the Boys to start scouring the planet, and have the Unfolders reset the physical laws back to the zero set. Don't let Them slack off, the Boss wants to plant the next batch of humans tomorrow! He says this time he's going to let them run up to producing atomic fusion, maybe we can harvest without all the hard work...'
