Battlefield

Confusion

(Hi! I finally got the guts to write a story. Because I was a bit curious on how I'd compare to the others in Wattpad. And also because I have nothing else to do.)

This chapter is SUPER wordy and long, so sorry if you don't follow.)

His name was Mike. Michael Kenji Shinoda.

And if you asked him what he did on a daily basis, the answer would be to take a AK-15 and shove it down the throats of aliens, which caused some people that asked him this question to walk away from him slowly and never utter a single word to him ever again.

Well, they called them different things. Sometimes monsters, mutant octopuses (technically octopi), but Mike just made it easy by calling them alien. Mostly because they looked like they were from an entirely different planet. A more accurate description would be stalkers of the night with a horrifying, ghastly shriek that erupt when provoked. Organisms with teeth almost seemingly sharper than a great white's and a mouth so spacious, it can probably stuff six poor souls at once inside. Creatures with a foreign language and blackish-purplish slimy tentacles that sprout out from their backs and can break your neck with one simple twist.

Alien was a complete understatement to whatever they were.

And surprisingly, that was exactly what Mike was doing right now, trying to get a proper aim while dark tentacles wrapped itself around his golden-skinned sniper.

"Go for the eyes...go for the eyes," Mike's depleted consciousness reminded him as he, neither the alien moved a muscle, the sound of heavy breathing resonating inside the abandoned room. The creature gave a tiny hiss and tightened his grip on the gun, his head turned in a completely different direction.

What is he doing? Mike seemed to question the alien's odd behavior as Mike tried to position the weapon directly at the target he was trying to eliminate. It hasn't even tried to eat him up, instead looking at him once, twice, then twisted its head in the opposite way, while circling its appendages around Mike's gun.

There was something that was off with the creature. It seemed like it trusted him...as if had a heart too. The realization hit Mike quite quickly, and he could swear he almost dropped his gun in compassion for the alien. This was the first time that he felt some kind of connection between one of their kind. It took so much self-discipline to not just pull himself away and slunk back into the darkness.

But one shrill bang later, and that ear-piercing scream echoed in Mike's ears, and the alien dropped dead on the tiled floor, a black, murky substance leaking out from the hole that shattered his head.

No. Don't trust them. Trust no-one and nothing. The soldier repeated his lieutenant's words as Mike sighed pitifully and tried to move his feet away from the puddle forming below him. He was a fool to let the creature get into his head. So many people have learnt the hard way on how deceiving the creatures can be.

And yet...he felt something. He might be cold, but his heart wasn't made out of stone. The alien showed mercy, a thing that has been refused his entire life, and it really seemed to touch him. Like magic, if it existed. "Oh, shit. My shoes!" Mike cursed out in displeasure when the substance finally reached to him, staining his white shoes that would cost him $300, if money mattered.

Because now, nothing else matters anymore other than staying alive.

If there was anything worse than walking around all night with wet socks, it was slipping on the soaked ground and banging his head hard on the tabletop beside it. "Wow, what a lucky day I'm having," the half-Asian muttered to himself as he brushed his hands over his forehead, feeling at the tender bump now forming on his forehead.