Feast

Chapter two: a little elbow grease

The moment she saw its eyes. She felt a rage. Those dead black eyes. That big slobbery mouth. That leathery white skin. Those things made her angry. Very angry.
With a loud war cry, she hurled the spear at it as it was climbing in. It's big sharp claws hitting the tile. This one is big. Huge compared to her. It's horns scratched the ceiling. She felt like a tiny mouse.
"Oh f-" she was interrupted by a giant growl as it lunged for her. She jabbed her spear at it, with all her fury.
It pierced through its skin, drawing brown dirty blood.
It screeched and head butted her off her feet, sending her flying. She landed on a table and rolled down into a booth.
It came at her and she did the only rational thing. She stuck her feet out and kicked it in the head.
It recoiled back enough for her to roll down under the table. She waited for an opening. A distraction. And she got it.
Something came from the back. It let out a tiny roar. It sounded like a baby. Big boy seemed to have forgotten about her. She slipped from under the table and grabbed hold of the spear that had dropped to the ground moments ago. She jumped up like Michael Jordan, and pierced her blade through its weird alien monster skull.
It went down and she heaved. She wiped the sweat from her forehead. Then she heard a small chirping sound. She looked over to see a tiny creature, no bigger than a basket ball. Two small stubby legs, tiny little claws, a small like tail swishing back and forth, and two tiny stubby horns. A baby.
"...you're probably wanting a piece of me too, after slaughtering daddy." She frowned, pointing her spear in his face. His little black eyes got big. Like a pouting puppy.
She lowered her weapon. "...sorry...you saved my life..."
He lets out a little bark, happy again. Smiling.
She let out a soft awe, she is a softie.
"You got a name?" She asked, not expecting an answer.
He barked, proving her theory that the creatures down speak English.
"...I'm calling you Gnaign." She said softly, reaching out to pet him. Like a dog. "Please don't bite me."
He didn't bite, but accepted the pets. He chittered happily.
She smiled and giggled. "You're coming with me, gnaign. You're such a cutie."
Then there was the sound of an approaching car. She perked up. A way out of this diner. She goes and picks up gnaign, carrying him to her backpack. She set him down along with her radio and some packaged foods. She shushed gnaign and zipped up the backpack except for a bit for gnaign to get light.
She put the backpack on and went outside to greet the car. The survivors.
Or so she thought.
It was a car alright, whatever is in it on the wheel, isn't surviving. It's long dead, foot forever pressing on the gas.
She watched as it flew past and just kept going.
"...crap." She groaned. She got her hopes up for nothing.
She squinted up at the sun. And looked at the city in the distance.
"I wonder who is broadcasting." She mumbled to herself.
She started to walk up the road, spear in her hand, the radio playing some Eminem song, gnaign curled up and fell asleep in the warm backpack.