Monster Attack
A Moment’s Apocalypse
Need a hug?
Sometimes we really need a hug, don’t we? It doesn’t matter if it’s from family, friend, or a stranger, sometimes a hug means so much in our time of need. Do you like a hug and for what reason, I bet it’s not for a reason like this — Buckle up for this one!
A Moment’s Apocalypse
I couldn’t catch a proper breath. The dust and adrenaline left me wheezing like an asthmatic. What the hell happened?
This was April Fool’s Day, a day of silliness, a chance to play the joker. I was no fool and this was no prank. Something had just exploded!
I’d been watching a monster movie on TV when the newsreader’s face cut in. She said, ‘We interrupt—’ and that was it. The power died as a blast struck my building. A wall of shock and fire blew out the windows and shattered the walls.
Darkness…
Silence…
For the longest moment, my coughing and wheezing broke the suffocating silence. I lay wearing what felt like the whole building. Everything hurt and I could smell blood as I lay waiting for the angels to take me.
Distant gunfire and explosions became the backdrop of terror.
I tried to roll, to push debris aside, to free a leg. Each move was agonizing, ribbons of pain emanated from my ribs, and my shoulder flared in time with the pounding in my head. The weight never relented. I screamed as I forced all my power into the concrete and plasterboard over my head.
It moved an inch!
Hope trembled within me.
I panted for breath, fighting the panic that threatened to overwhelm my stressed senses. I shoved again, rolling with it this time. The obstruction slid away, allowing milky light to filter into my cavity.
My mouth was full of dust. I coughed to clear it, then sucked in a lungful of air. It burned my chest and made me cough more.
I sat through tearjerking ribbons of pain in my ribs and dug my legs free, My right knee was blood-stained, a shard of glass sticking through my jeans above the patella. There was no survival with that in there. I grabbed the glass and yanked it free. A dagger of agony tore from me as a scream.
My flat was gone, I staggered to my feet surrounded by rubble. My bedroom used to be to the left. There was nothing but a gaping drop beyond the crumpled door frame.
The wall my TV occupied was also gone. I could see the city sprawling out there. Fires poured smoke into the darkening sky from many places. The Canary Tower which dominated the skyline was gone.
As I watched, two Apache helicopters roared overhead and arced into the city. Tracer rounds erupted from their twin guns and blazed into …
“What the hell is that!”
A monster straight from the movies seemed to buck and writhe under the onslaught. Then it seized a chopper with a tentacle-like arm and hurled it into the other. Both exploded and crashed into a tenement block setting it ablaze.
A numbness descended over me. I felt drool pooling in my mouth as stared frozen at the apocalyptic nightmare playing out in the city. A missile hissed through the sky and detonated.
I saw the creature fall into a cloud of boiling flames. A nearby building exploded and the monster rose with a military jeep in hand. It sent it arcing straight toward me.
It was time to leave!
I climbed out of my living room and fell into the dark hall through a hole in the wall. The jeep hit the building like an earthquake. An explosion of fire ripped the upper floor apart.
Fiery debris fell around me, as I pitched into a wall and staggered toward the exit. Was it still open? I prayed it was.
The lights flickered.
A body hung in a gaping hole in the wall.
“Agnes!” she was my elderly neighbor. I supported her childlike weight and checked her pulse. Nothing. “I’m so sorry,” I felt tears washing away the dust and blood covering my face as I lay her on the ground and dropped to my knees beside her.
Not once did the staccato racket of machine gun fire fall silent. With a heavy heart, I regained my feet and entered the stairwell. I fell more than walked down the three flights.
The foyer imitated a smoky war zone. Fires raged in the seating area. A car was buried in the front desk. Then I saw him.
“Gary!”
He was the building’s janitor. He was a Downs Syndrome sufferer with a big heart and work ethic to match. The building always gleamed when he was finished.
“Gary!”
He lay close to the front door amid a pile of rubble and carnage. Another body lay broken not far away. I knew the car had crushed him as it smashed into the building. My knees buckled as I reached and shook him.
He opened a swollen eye and smiled, “I saw Godzilla. He …” Gary slumped again.
“Gary, wake up!”
“I — I’m here. He’s real …”
“Good Whatever that thing is, it…”
His eyes rolled, he convulsed, blood oozed from his mouth and he was gone.
“Gary! No Gary come on!” I yelled. It was no use, he was dead in my arms. “Damn it!”
Unable to control my tears again, I staggered over the broken glass and rubble that remained of the entrance doors and made it outside. I was in time to see a soldier flying through the air. He was screaming until his body cracked onto a car bonnet and disappeared through the windscreen.
The monster let out a hideous scream.
My world flashed to nothing as the loudest roar I ever heard ended the city in a cataclysmic, mushrooming explosion. Everything was white, serene and calm. This was what it felt like to die in a nuclear blast.
Wait something was ringing in my ears.
I was too hot, I shook myself and jolted upright. Immediately I fell to the floor. I swore and stood. I was wearing the grey shirt and trousers I wore for the office’s annual Easter movie trip. I was clean and healthy, aside from a headache too. Why was I on that gurney?
“Woah, take it easy, mate,” said a man wearing a black shirt with white accents coming toward me.
I didn’t recognize him.
“We’re alright,” he added, face full of emotion.
“That’s a relief,” I managed before he was hugging me for all he was worth.
I’d never been a hugger, but this one was the best I’d ever felt. It was welcome in ways I couldn’t express. I hugged back with relief pouring from me, “Thank you. What happened? I saw the city being destroyed by a monster I …”
“Cloverfield.” He released me.
“What?” I remembered watching the movie moments before the city -
“Some practical joker decided to spike our drinks with magic mushroom powder and sleeping pills while we watched Cloverfield.”
I found myself gasping for air. “It was a dream?”
The man smiled and hugged me again. “Just a dream, you’re going to be just fine.”
“Thank goodness,” I took a deep breath. “That practical joker won’t be fine if I catch him. He’ll look like he met a monster too!”
We both laughed as we left the cinema as friends.
The End
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