Metamorphs: Return of the Legion

Prologue

They told him that when you died, your life flashed before your eyes, allowing you to relive all of your most treasured memories, so Lieutenant Paul Logan was understandably confused at why he was still staring at the cold, dead face of his best friend beside him. He and Private Bill Hurley had served several tours of Iraq together, surviving some of the worst that humanity had thrown their way. However, this evening out in their remote desert outpost, they hadn't stood a chance against the intruders that were now calmly stepping over stray bullet casings and the lifeless bodies of soldiers they had murdered only moments ago. The assault had taken mere seconds, the soldiers caught completely off guard, and by the time they had reacted, it was entirely too late.

Lieutenant Logan felt a burning along his side from where the massive gash was spilling his blood throughout his already soaked pants, the hole revealing his exposed ribs. His entire right side was numb, the burns so severe that his nerve endings had completely fried. He tried to muffle a cough, afraid that they would notice his still breathing body lying in the corner amongst the ruin. The taste of iron stung on his tongue as dark, red fluid dribbled down his chin.

The floor felt slick, covered in the fluid and body parts of the men who had tried to stand their ground against the intruders. The sound of boots reverberated throughout the still room, where only moments ago the air had been filled with the echoes of automatic gunfire and sirens. There were five of them, four males and one female, and from what he could tell, they were all freaks. "Genetically empowered individuals" was the politically correct term for their kind, but Lieutenant Logan knew a monster when he saw one.

He tried his best to lift up his head and listen to what they were saying, turning his one remaining eye toward the cloaked figures before him, and could just barely make out their words over the persistent ringing in his ears.

"Finally...after all these years, we've found him."

"About damn time! After everything we've been through, all the comrades we've lost...it'll all be worth it once we wake him up. I still can't believe he was here all this time! The humans were foolish to think we wouldn't get to him."

"They should have killed him when they had the chance. Lucky for us, their oversight will be our victory over this world and its inhabitants. Once we have the key, he will rise again, and nothing will stand in our way!"

"Still...all of our plans lie in the hands of the boy. Are you sure we can trust him?"

"Of course we can. He's been our most loyal soldier, as ruthless as he is efficient. He's undergoing the application process as we speak. Once he's on the island, he'll get us the information we need to infiltrate it and retrieve the key."

The island? The key? What the hell were these lunatics talking about?! And what were they about to do with the vessel he and his men had been guarding? Lieutenant Logan knew he needed to get a message out to the president and inform them of what had just happened. He needed to warn them of the impending danger. Reaching into his pockets, Lieutenant Logan slowly drew out the emergency pager with his only functioning hand, but as he did, another wave of pain surged through his body causing him to convulse and drop the device.

The five figures quickly turned around, surprised by the noise. Through the bloody haze of his vision, Lieutenant Logan could identify the faces of his attackers, their appearances ranging from the breathtakingly beautiful to the monstrously hideous. HIs heart pounded in his collapsed chest in what was to be the last time, as the central figure, a man made entirely of shadows, revealed a pearly white grin. Long, black tendrils seemed to emanate from his body before surging toward the military man at an alarming rate.

They said that your entire life flashed before you when you died, but all Lieutenant Logan could see was darkness.