“You can’t do this! Go to hell!” Carla screams.

The Reverend appears before the funeral pyre, his form growing larger and larger until it dwarfs everything nearby.

“NO! YOU CAN GO TO HELL!”

The pile of wood below the pyre instantly ignites and Carla begins to scream. Her flesh burns, boils, and drops off of her bones as the fire rages. But still she screams. The screams cutting into my soul.

My eyes shoot open, and my gut clenches. My sense is that someone is standing behind me. I struggle against the chains lashing me to the pole at my back. Tilting my neck, I painfully look over one shoulder. What I see over my shoulder, I will never forget as long as I live.

A tall entity—that’s the only way I can describe it—stares down into my face. The creature is tall, but powerful looking. The skin is opaque with a brownish hue throughout. The fingers—if you can call them that—are long and knobby. And the face has a strangely feline quality. No hair, anywhere that I can see. It stares down at me for several seconds more and then seems to fade—until I can no longer see it at all.

I look over at the other men. None of the others have even stirred. Anthony still lies on his side in the hay, his arms secured behind his back. Zach is lying back against the crates, where he was chained, his head reclining back and his mouth partially open. Did I imagine it? I mean, what had I seen exactly?

Any doubts I have, about the entity I saw, are blown away when I catch whispers of conversation coming from behind the shed. It sounds like Reverend Cox. A small sliver of light is occasionally blocked out by shifting movement. I would guess from the person holding conversation with the Reverend.

“I believe the Lord is merciful! And that he would send his angels to protect me against the wolves who would devour my flock. You are the Lord’s servant. I will do whatever the Lord commands I should do. Speak the Lord’s words to my heart. That I may do his will.”

Another voice—closer to the sound of grating metal, but using human words—responds. The words are spoken in such a way that it is obvious the speaker is not used to the language.

“The Lord commands that an army be raised! This is necessary to defeat the nvrl. Those who would see the will of The Father thwarted. We must be ready in fifteen erhms time! By the next full moon, the cycle of the fifteen erhms will have begun. There isn’t much time. The Lord wishes only holy nthrvm for his army. The sons of godly men. You must double your recruitment efforts. The gtrhms need not be kept. They may be destroyed by fire.”

Reverend Cox objects.

“Holy servant! Without the gtrhms we cannot make more of the nthrvm!”

The entity becomes audibly angry.

“The stock must remain free of intermingling. No blood can return unto itself. The Lord commands that this is the way. You will capture the gtrhm of your enemies. As you have done in the recent days. The next generation of gtrhm will be destroyed. So as to prevent the intermingling of common blood. That is the commandment.”

“Yes. The Father’s will be done, “Reverend Cox acquiesces.

The grating voice speaks again. This time in a foreign language. Another similar voice briefly chimes in, and then all is silence. I strain to detect any more activity but can hear nothing. What did I just overhear? Thinking back to the entity I witnessed earlier; I wonder if the Reverend and I are seeing the same thing. The creature I had seen was not one I would even think to worship. It seemed to ooze malice and derision. The anger—which had blossomed at the Reverend’s simple observation—also seemed a bit over the top. Something has come to Earth. And its intentions are anything but good.

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This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“James?” A voice whispers softly into my left ear.

I open my eyes to find Tiffany sitting beside me. She moves closer and begins snuggling into my shoulder; pressing her chest into my arm. I pull away, as far as my chains will allow, and fix her with a harsh glare. She seems to wilt from the force of it.

“I’m sorry, James. You and I both know that your wife is probably dead. And the Reverend says we can all start over. We can choose new mates. I chose you, James. I couldn’t have Carla ruining all of that. I saw the way she looked at you. The way she talked to you. I knew she wanted you too. I want to have many gthrhm with you, James. Many many of them! Please. Just do what the Reverend asks. Do what the Lord commands of us. You and I could live such a long life together.”

Tiffany reaches into her sock and removes a small metal object.

“Those who are with child are revered by the messengers. That’s why they are here. To raise an army for The Lord. All who stand against them will perish. Lie with me, James. Then, we can declare that the Lord has visited you. That he has found you worthy.”

I simply give Tiffany a blank stare. Her reasoning is beyond weak. It is pathetic. Did she not realize that the Reverend’s faith would have her burnt at the stake as well? For the sin of fornication? Did she really think that I would sleep with her after what I had witnessed being done to both Deidre and Carla? Was she so stupid as to believe I would fall in line with Cox under any circumstances? Stupid indeed.

Tiffany inches closer, her right hand falling to my thigh. She looks down at her hand, and I can see the wheels of her mind turning. I pray real hard that she doesn’t go any further. At least, not until she has these damn chains off. She inches even closer, her fingers starting to grip the cloth of my pants. She alters her voice to sound what I guess she thinks is seductive.

“Please, James.” She climbs onto my lap and kisses my forehead. She reaches for the chains behind my back and fumbles with the lock. I don’t say anything to either persuade or dissuade her. I simply sit rooted in place, waiting for my moment. I immediately feel when the chains loosen, and my brow

furrows. I am grateful for the dim light in the shed. Tiffany sits up from her leaning position and stares into my face with a dumb grin.

“There. You’re fr—“

I headbutt Tiffany as hard as I can and she sprawls backward. Her nose and bottom lip are covered in blood. She tries to speak, to cry out, but I never give her the chance. Kicking her under the chin, I knock her away from me. I undo my chains and wrap them securely around her throat. Tiffany is no match for me— as she struggles underneath my weight.

“Thou shalt not bare false witness, Tiffany! Carla died because of your lie. And now, it’s your turn to face judgment!” I snarl. With a solid wrench, I snap Tiffany’s neck. Not even bothering to hide her body, for the time being, I run over to the other men and free them. While cautioning them to be quiet.

Zach is visibly frightened and Anthony is unsure of our next move. He voices his concern.

“So what do we do now that we’re free? We can’t just walk out of here? They’ll gun us down!”

I point towards the back of the shed. The sliver of light I saw while Reverend Cox haggled with our alien friends is an indication of a loose board.

“We don’t go out the front. We go out the back. If Tiffany was able to get in here….We can get out. And they won’t be expecting us to. They believe we’re locked down tight. We’ll just have to be real quiet.”

It takes us nearly two hours before we are able to loosen up some of the boards and sneak out, but we make it. Only one guard is posted around the front of the shed. A burly man with a beard resembling something out of a fantasy story. He sits with his back towards the door. His assault rifle is propped against his chair. I reach down and grab a large piece of broken brick. Zach becomes alarmed.

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

I smile wryly. “Same thing I did in the service. I may not have a gun right now, but I was the best shooter in my squad. Watch my aim, and tell me I ain’t good!”

The brick slams into the burly man’s head going many miles per hour. He falls heavily to the ground without a sound coming from his lips. The three of us guys run to where he has fallen and place him back in his chair—propped up by the door of the shed and a piece of plywood under his armpit. I reach into the burly man’s belt and retrieve his knife. With a single swipe, I slit his throat. Zach and Anthony jump back in surprise. I sigh and wipe the knife off on the man’s pants.

“He’d have done the same to us. We can’t afford him waking up and raising the alarm.”

“Yeah, but we could have gagged him. You didn’t have to kill him!” Anthony quietly protests.

I point in the direction of the funeral pyre.

“You can really say that….After Carla and Deidre? After what they did to Ronnie? Your brother? Your twin? We’re in a fight for our survival, Anthony. Normal rules don’t apply. Grab his gun, Zach. And let’s go.”

Both young men stare at me as if they are unsure if they want to accompany me. I grab the gun myself.

“Fine. But, I’m not staying around here to become filet mignon. Follow me, or don’t. It’s your choice.”

I run quickly in the direction of the trees. The young men hesitate only briefly and then follow me.