George
Chaos reigned supreme around me. People were screaming, gasping for air, desperately searching for safety. Panic suffocated the air, making me question—What on earth just happened?
"This is dispatch to headquarters," crackled a voice from the police radio strapped to my hip. The static buzz cut through the noise, but it did little to calm the storm.
"We need backup—immediately."
"Over here!" Detective Samuels called out, his voice strained and urgent. I turned to see him gesturing at me, his face a mask of exhaustion and barely-contained frustration.
I had been kneeling next to a little girl, no more than six years old, trying to console her. She'd been separated from her family in the chaos, her tiny frame trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Her wide eyes were brimming with tears, and her hands clutched at my uniform as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality.
"I'll be right back, kiddo," I told her softly, forcing a reassuring smile. "We'll find your mom and dad, okay?" I stood and reluctantly hurried over to Samuels, my gut churning at the thought of leaving her alone, even for a moment.
"This is absurd," Samuels muttered under his breath as I approached. The disbelief in his tone mirrored the turmoil in my own mind. "And to think I was called here for a teenage disturbance. Unbelievable."
"What's the casualty count?" he asked, his voice suddenly cold and businesslike.
"Over fifty... maybe more," I replied, my voice faltering slightly. Even saying the number felt surreal.
Before he could respond, his phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and sighed, shoulders slumping with the weight of the incoming call. "I'll be right back, George. Gather the casualty numbers and send them to headquarters immediately—" He paused as another officer ran past us.
"And where's that backup?!" Samuels barked.
"On the way, sir!" the officer shot back, his voice strained.
Samuels groaned, his frustration palpable as he turned away, taking the call. I watched him walk off, his posture sagging under the burden of the chaos around us. I'd never seen him like this before—he was always the unflappable one, the pillar of strength. Seeing him unravel made the situation feel all the more dire.
I turned my attention back to the wreckage strewn across the upper floor of the mall. Shattered storefronts, blown-out windows, overturned shelves, and goods worth thousands of dollars either destroyed or still smoldering from the earlier fires. The fire department had managed to douse the flames, but the acrid stench of burnt debris lingered in the air. I moved through the devastation, collecting wallets, phones, and lone shoes—ghostly remnants of the chaos that had unfolded just minutes ago.
Why would anyone in their right mind set off fireworks inside a mall? I thought bitterly as I handed a few items to the volunteers trying to reunite them with their owners. It didn't make sense. My eyes landed on something odd near the water fountain—footprints, but not like any I'd seen before. They were large, clawed, almost like those of a wild animal.
An animal? I shook off the thought. Maybe some exotic pet escaped in the confusion. People kept all sorts of strange animals these days.
I was just about to head back to check on the little girl when I felt a firm grip on my arm. I turned, half-expecting to see Samuels with another order.
"Pack up. We need to leave," Samuels said, his face tight with irritation and something else—fear?
"What? Why? What's going on?" I asked, my concern spiking.
Samuels just shook his head, his jaw clenched. "It's orders."
"What do you mean, 'orders'? Was it the call? What did they say?" I pressed, frustration bubbling up inside me.
"Just pack up, George," he snapped, rubbing his temples in a way I'd only seen when he was at the end of his rope. He sighed, as if resigning himself to something inevitable, and finally whispered, "C.I.A."
I stared at him, disbelief coursing through me. "The C.I.A.? What do they want with this?"
"They're taking over the case," Samuels replied flatly.
"Taking over what? This was an accident caused by some reckless teenagers! Do they even have jurisdiction?"
Samuels let out a bitter laugh. "They don't need jurisdiction, George. They don't need anything when they decide we're not equipped to handle it."
My hands curled into fists. "We can't just abandon these people! They need our help!" My voice rose, anger sharpening every word. "The C.I.A. doesn't care about these people like we do. Whatever they're after, they'll take it and leave."
He shook his head. "I don't like it either, but we have orders. We—"
"ALIENS! I'M TELLING YOU! YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME, I HAVE PROOF!"
Both our heads snapped toward the outburst. A woman, her clothes smeared with soot, hair wild and tangled, was being restrained by two officers. She clutched her stomach, her eyes wide and crazed.
"Hey! Let her go!" I shouted, rushing over. Samuels followed close behind, his face set in a scowl.
The officers, caught off guard, released her. "She's been saying the ones who did this were aliens," one of them scoffed. "Total nutcase."
"Let her speak," Samuels ordered sharply.
The woman fumbled with her phone. "I keep telling y'all, it's aliens! Look!" She thrust the phone at us, her hands shaking. "They were tall, nearly as tall as the fountains, with sharp teeth! They were—they were black! No, gray! It's hard to tell in the dark, but I'm telling you—"
"This is obviously some edited video," Samuels said dismissively. "You can't spread false alarms here, ma'am. People are already on edge."
"They do exist!" she shrieked, her voice cracking. "Look at it—this isn't fake!"
"Ma'am, please. It's not safe here," I began, but before I could finish, a deep rumble shook the ground beneath us.
Everyone froze. The air grew thin, almost impossible to breathe. In the distance, a blinding explosion tore through the air, sending a shockwave that rattled my bones. The eerie sound that followed—a sharp, clicking noise—echoed in the aftermath.
From the smoky veil, something began to move. The woman screamed, breaking into a run, her cries of "Aliens! Aliens!" ringing out as she disappeared into the shadows.
I stood, paralyzed, as a shape emerged from the haze—an alien? just as she'd described. My heart hammered against my ribs. I'd never believed in monsters, but there it was, staring back at me.
Everything I knew crumbled away. This wasn't just a nightmare. This was real—terrifyingly, impossibly real.
The world as I knew it was gone. And nothing would ever be the same again.