Wandering Ends A Flash Fiction Collection

The Visitors

The visitors came in fast. They ransacked, they ravaged, they destroyed. Things were not looking good for us. We ran, zig-zagged through alleys, through destroyed structures, around craters. We could not outrun them. They zipped, they jolted, they jumped. Some buildings were dust, some were partially standing. Crater's enveloped entire city blocks. Once familiar landmarks no longer existed.

The first one caught up with us. We struggled, we fought, but his tentacle-like arms held us in a death grip. We struggled to breathe. Three more of his friends swung around the corner. Their snake-like tongues licked, what would be their lips if they were like us. Their eyes narrowed in on us through eyelids that were shaped like cross-hairs. Each of them had four arms snaking off of their body, each arm had its own hand. Each hand had three talon shaped claws.

Their bodies were shiny, an almost silver color with a similar sheen. His grip loosened allowing us to catch our breath. He turned his head a full one-eighty to look at his comrades. A screech belted out of his mouth. The others seemed to understand this as a command. Two of them headed back into the center of the city. The other one stayed behind with the one who held us.

The visitors head turned back around. He flashed a mouthful of at least a hundred razor sharp teeth at us. We let out a panicked scream. They made some deep-throated noises. Seconds later an aircraft appeared above us. A tunnel shot out of the bottom of it. It encased all four of us, like a vacuum it sucked us up into the aircraft.

As we came into the ship there were several others similar to our captors. One of them stood out. He was more of a golden color with bright, skinny red stripes covering the top of his head. They flung us onto steel beds then strapped us in with metal straps. We were unable to move again.

With a jolt, the craft shot into the sky. The golden colored creature came to the beds, staring us up and down. He stuck his razor-sharp claw next to my head. I let out a yell. My friend in the bed next to me let out what was more of howl. He sounded like he was in pain. I forced myself to look in his direction. There was blood all over one of our kidnappers. He cleaned his claw with his slithering tongue.

The unique one of the bunch slid his claw around the shape of my body. He made some strange grunting noises to his partners. They all surrounded me. One at a time their slimy, slippery tongues licked me. Their tongues were razor sharp too. Each time I felt some of my flesh disappearing. It was an agonizing pain that if I were going to live I would never forget or be able to describe. The last one licked the top of my head. I could hear his tongue scraping along my skull. My body set into shock. I could feel myself drifting off.