Drew paced around the dark corners of her small red apartment and thought about the ways she could force a life together with Jim. There's just no man in town that would make a better daddy, she thought. We could travel more than once a year on his income and still have enough to live well, drink often, raise a child. And he's generous with oral, fucks well. The problem's getting him to like me.

Maybe I could get him to just fuck me once, she thought. Figure out a way to meet up with him somewhere, make sure there's alcohol involved. I could get him to give me a facial and then when I go to clean it up, I instead scrape it all off my face and into a bottle. All I would have to do is call up an in vitro place and tell them my husbands off in Iraq dying for our country and we want a baby already. Forge a signature and we're off to the races. I'd call him up, pretend to be holding back tears, tell him something's wrong. He'd say 'what?', all concerned. 'I can't say', I'd tell him. He asks again, I mutter under my breath: 'I'm pregnant'. He goes silent, I say nothing, give him a moment to let him realize I've got him.

Maybe I could fake some kind of personal tragedy, use it to get sympathy from him and use it as a reason to be around him, she thought. I could even stage some kind of tragedy, in plain view of Jim, so that we'd be able to bond over it.  I could choose someone both of us knew and cut their brake lines or induce a heart attack or something, I could use his emotional state to get in good with him and swing that into a relationship if I could play it correctly. Maybe do it to Lucas, or his wife Sarah.

Maybe I could move closer to him. Walk to his apartment complex and turn my dating profiles location radius down to 1 mile and then Super Like him. I could check which bars he goes to and make sure to show up, in a skimpy dress and hiding a handful of rufies. Make him notice me, make him be the one to come over.

Maybe I'll get tit implants, work out more and eat less. Post slutty pictures on Facebook, Instagram.

Maybe I'll say he raped me, she thought.

Listen to me... you didn't lose because you were worse.

You lost because you didn't understand the game.

It's not about content.

It's about image, and how you present yourself.

Walk big and carry a bigger stick, they'll love you for it.

You didn't get the response you wanted?

Engineer your future, make friends, swindle enemies, make tomorrow certain.

You don't like my response?

You think game theory isn't a thing?

I'll put you against the best tomorrow.

You'll go down.

Before I saw them with my eyes, I saw them in my dreams. 

I woke up in a sweat, their details quickly fading from memory. What stayed with me was the feeling of horror.

Six weeks later, they came.

--

Picture a grizzly bear, with the armor of a crocodile, and the eyes of a demon... 

Big steel ships screeched overhead, massive white light beams flashed on and off like controlled thunder. The world watched as they came down... and mauled the Earth's population away to nothing.

Some tried to fight back, but they didn't stand a chance. 

I was with my family that night, just a boy. They came in when we were sleeping and devoured my sister in her room across from mine. She screamed the whole time. I was frozen with fear.

I threw my bed sheets over me and hid. Dad stormed in after my sister, he was yelling for her, crying, he tried shooting... but it got him.

It went after my mom next.

I hid there til morning. Stayed up all night listening to the screams of my neighbors getting slaughtered. 

By sunrise it went quiet. I'd hear something terrible slither outside my window occasionally, the bed already wet from fear and an overflowing bladder.

Around noon, I peeked out from my bed sheets for the first time... The house was a mess, my sister's bedroom was torn to hell, the door frame smashed by a monster's entrance. Blood all over... My sister's left arm lying there... My father's foot.

It was too much to take in. I didn't go see what happened to Mom.

I went to the front window and saw the neighborhood in bloody disarray. It was quiet...

I went to where the front door used to be, walked through it in a trance, no concern if I died right there.

I saw one of those things standing in my neighbor's driveway, it's evil eyes locked onto mine. I didn't move and neither did it.

He blinked. I didn't. 

He stepped forward. I held my ground.

He creeped towards me, staying low to the ground, but still towering over me... I instinctively put my hand out as though he was a neighbor's dog. 

He froze, looked at me... Turned his head, blinked... Blood foamed at it's mouth, dripped onto the grass... 

I put my hand out... Slowly, gently pet him... It feels like a scaly, nightmarish landscape.

It makes a noise... First I think it's angry... Then I realize, it's purring. 

I step forward, look up at him, we lock eyes.  "It's OK..." I say.

His mouth hanged open, reeked of the neighbor's corpses. 

I slowly raised my Dad's shotgun, pressed the barrel to the beast's forehead. 

"It's OK buddy." I whispered.

I wiped away a tear... and pulled the trigger. 

BAM!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THEY CAME... | 1/3 | https://theprose.com/post/141292/they-came-part-1-3

THEY SAW... | 2/3 | Coming Soon

I CONQUERED. | 3/3 | Coming Soon

Shall I compare you to a solar flyby?

You're far too lovely, too warm, too bright.

Even the brightest stars dim to nothing,

but ours faded too quickly.

Sometimes the flames of my heart get doused with liquor,

and I try to reach you, phone you, message you,

and not every message is received, nor every video,

but the sun never sets, only fades from view.

While I may never see you again,

I have your image, your voice, your thoughts, your soul.

   So long as stories are told, they'll tell of you.

   So long as these words live, you shall too.

I drink a cocktail of moonlight...

and wash it around in my mouth.

It tastes of shit vodka and purple.

"Barman!" I scream too loudly at the old man. "I'm onto beer, thank you." 

I burp up tidal waves.

On Tuesday, I woke up 6:45, went to work at 8:00 to First Midwest Credit Union, where I sell insurance to small businesses. I went home at 5:00 to my one bedroom apartment and ordered a pizza. I had a migraine, so I took a sleeping pill and went to bed early.

On Wednesday I woke up and found myself doing calculus on my bathroom mirror. On my walk to work I first the time noticed the failing architecture of the bridge nearby… the cracking smiles of my neighbor’s next door. I stopped walking to work, went home and torrented countless books, from classic literature to world history, engineering, philosophy, and read them in one sitting.

A switch had flipped. For the first time I realized how dopey and foolish, emotion driven, I had been my whole life. With dispassion I ran back through all my major life events and analyzed my short comings, realized the better path. I called my parents sobbing and told them I loved them for the first time since grade school.

On Thursday I recruited three unpaid college interns off Craigslist, rented a nearby office space, and began investing in the world economy. By noon, I had manipulated the fall and rise of various global commodities through a series of semi-legal phone calls, deceptions, and out right lies.

By dinner I made my first million.

By sundown I made my first 10.

On Friday I bought, filled, and utilized the office space next door...

On Saturday I bought the building...

On Sunday, I gambled the world and lost.

--

“Why are you telling me you can’t?” I ask.

The man blinks, nervous. “I’m sorry? There’s no way-.”

“There IS a way, and if you’re telling me there isn’t, then you’re not the right person for this position. So, is there a way?” I step closer, slightly hover off my tip toes to further tower over him.

The man, his name might be Bryan, maybe Ted, stares down at his shoes. “There’s a way… I’ll get it done.”

My hand comes down hard on his shoulder, he jumps. “Of course there’s a way.” I smirk.

He looks up for just a moment, then back down. He wakes away like a timid dog.

“Let me or Jeff know if you can’t do it!” I chime at the back of his head.

I turn to Jeff, see him sweating as he normally does, possibly more. "Jeff, relax. You're going to look foolish for the Japanese if you keep sweating like that."

"This is, beyond relaxing. Do you understand the ramifications of what we're doing here? The entire global economy could drop to a point beyond repair. We could send whole continents into recession they wouldn't come back from for decades." Jeff's lip trembles. 

For the first time in days, I hesitate.

"High risk, high reward... Do you want to be stuck playing penny stocks or be on the big boys team, where the real trading happens?" I prod him, literally. "No, I'm serious Jeff, stand up and answer me: do you want off this train?"

Jeff can't look me in the eye, he nods yes. "I do, but..."

"But what..."

"It's too late... it's just too late." Jeff whimpers, begins to tear up.

I watch stocks fluctuate wildly like roller coasters on the screens behind him. "Jesus Christ Jeff. You're crying like a baby..."

He doesn't move. The stocks rally downwards behind him, I begin to get angry.

"Please, leave. I have work to do." I push him out of the way.

"You're work's done. It's over. It's all over."

I watch as the stocks continue to rally downward. Not just my stocks, but all the world's.

"You're smartest guy I've ever met. And you just doomed us all."

After an angel serves his time as God, he is free to do as he chooses...

some serve in Heaven, some rule in Hell, some roam the Earth.

--

BOOOOOOOMMM!!!!!! -- a bright light from above...

"What is that?" Cassiel asks, shields his eyes.

Azrael peers into the light, his blue eyes exploding as the light refracts throughout his eye's complex crystalline structure. He smirks. "This must be... FATHER?"

Coughing, from behind the light and smoke. "Sorry." A deep voice reverberates out from the unseen. "That's a lot of smoke." More coughing.

Azrael squints in confusion, turns to Cassiel for answers. He has none.

"Hello?" Azrael asks.

"Yeah?" The smoke clears, the image of a man, older, gray, bearded, a gourd of what smells like God's wine sits clumsily in his hand. He steps out, squinting and clearing the smoke. 

"Who are you?" Azrael asks with an authoritative tone. 

Cassiel snorts ridicule. "Do you not recognize your maker?!"

"Whoa!" The old man's voice cuts in, reverberates to the point of pain. "No one said anything about that. I'm just Terry, from up above." He points up above casually. "I'm one of the guys watching you all."

Azrael turns his head in disbelief. "ONE of you?"

"Yeah, there's a bunch of guys up there watching you all." Terry responds, licks his lips like a boy might, sips his wine. "It's crazy down here..." He shakes his head.

"Why do you come now, of all times?" Azrael asks.

Terry coughs a few staccato chuckles. "We generally just let you guys handle shit, but this got out of hand. That dead guy was supposed to rule for a while." Terry points to the Nakir, the dead guy.

"Who says he supposed to rule? I took the throne, this is MY crown." Azrael thrusts the gold crown in Terry's face.

"OK, ah, actually guy was supposed to rule." Terry again points Nakir, the dead guy.

"Azrael, calm yourself." Cassiel speaks under his breath.

"No, it's cool." Terry replies. "I get it. Ah, we do gotta go to Earth though."

Terry twitches his head forward, grunts -- a drunk uncle version of the "I Dream of Jeannie" head nod -- the three appear over water, the Atlantic ocean. They float mid-air, watch as sharks, octopus, giant squids gather beneath them.

"WHAT IS THIS?!" Azrael screams, trying to break out of unseen bonds that hold him in place. 

"Oh, we're going to hold a trial for you killing all those people and stuff. And trying to take the crown." Terry responds. He grunts, head nods -- the world's population appears around them, suspended in the air as if they're locked into invisible roller coaster seats.

They look around, horrified at their abruptly new surroundings. They begin to SCREAM and PANIC! Several have HEART ATTACKS and-.

"OH-RELAX!" Terry yells out, his voice reverberates through their skulls like the voice of God, an instant antidote to their panic. They calmly face and listen to Terry, look to the three otherworldly men floating above them blankly.

"OK!" Terry speaks like a boss beginning his work day. "My name's Terry, I'm one of the guys from up above." 

The people look to each other not sure what to think. "I'm kind of like a God or something." Terry struggles with how to say it. "Anyways, this isn't about me... So, ah, basically, this is Azrael and Cassiel." He gestures to them. "They're two, like angels, and I'm going to put them on trial for you all today..."

A giant shark jumps out of the water, chomps a couple of people from the sky, they scream in horror.

"Aw shit!" Terry winces at the sight. The shark splashes back down into the ocean, blood dripping and flowing into saltwater waves. "Sorry about that."

Terry nod-grunts twice -- everyone floats a few feet higher, the men killed by the shark reappear uninjured. "OK, so, anyways, ah... basically you guys decide what should happen, you're the jury. As for like the details, Azrael was kinda going around killing, you know, quite a few people, and a lot of that kind of stuff..."

The people look at Terry blankly.

"Did you guys see that, did you hear about it?" Terry ask everyone. "Raise your hand if you heard about this guy killing a bunch of people."

Most of the world's population raises their hand. "OK, good, that speeds it up atleast. So, ah, yeah he was basically killing these people who he said were-" Terry makes air quotes. "-'agents of Lucifer'. I'm pretty sure that's not even a thing."

Azrael shakes his head, sighs... monsters of the sea circle beneath him.

"So, yeah, what do you guys think? What's his punishment?" Terry asks them.

A young girl, maybe 9, raises her hand. "Yes, little girl. I think your name's Rebekah or something." Terry points to her.

"My name's Caitlin." She replies.

"Sorry." 

"Maybe he should die like how he killed them?" The little girl proposes innocently.

"Cool, yeah, not a bad idea. Anyone else?" Terry looks to point to someone else in the crowd.

A Catholic priest raises his hand. "What will happen after he dies?"

"You mean like, what's his after-life?" Terry asks.

"Yeah."

"OK, good question. What do you guys think?" Terry asks everyone.

"What is it now?" The priest asks, embarrassed to show doubt in his faith.

"Ah, well... It's basically a sorting machine. My man Keith tries to get everyone where they think they should go, like kind of a make-a-wish thing." Terry replies.

"So he could end up back in Heaven?" The priest asks.

"Not unless you guys don't want him to. What do you think, like Hell, or purgatory, or Mormon Hell, or just black-nothing-atheist stuff? What do you guys think?" Terry asks.

The people are quiet, not sure what to say. A man stands near the front, a working class joe speaks. "What if he just goes to prison... and he's like gotta make signs and stuff like all the rest of the prisoners so he's giving something back to society... but he's still mortal and stuff so he'll die some day... and his sentence is so long that he eventually dies in prison." 

"That's cool. What do you guys think?" Terry looks to the masses, his thumb wavering between up or down... "Everyone in favor raise your hand."

Maybe half the people raise their hands. "Hm, OK, that looks like more with their hand up probably. Sorry Az."

Azrael is slowly lowered from the sky towards the hungry sea monsters below, he screams out for mercy, tries to wiggle away from his slow descent...

"TERRY!" Cassiel screams.

"Shit, sorry, that's right, you're right. I got mixed and thought we were going to do the sea monster thing." Terry nod-grunts -- Azrael's body flails, comes to a stop, not far from chomping distance. "Alright Az, this is it buddy... Anything you want to say before you go?"

Azrael squints off into the distance... the setting sun paints his bronze skin purple-orange. He raises his mouth to speak... "I  wa-." -- Terry nod-grunts -- Azrael disappears mid sentence. The masses explode into juvenile laughter, Terry looks around, proud at his joke.

"Alright, thanks you guys, you're great." Terry drinks more wine from his gourd. "OK, so... Cassiel. What do you want to do with this guy?"

The masses are silent. A young mom raises her hand. "Who's he?"

"Ah, well, he's kinda like a timeless counsel to the God-king type angels who rule over all this." Terry struggles to word it right.

A rabbi raises his hand. "Has he lived a good life? Was he just? Was he fair?"

Terry shrugs, squeaks out an answer. "Yeah."

"Ah... let him go free?" The rabbi doesn't know what to say. "If he didn't do anything."

"Alright. You guys cool with that?" Terry asks the people, they nod yes.

"Cool, alright Cass. You're free to go man." Terry smirks at him.

"Wait, what about the-." Terry head nod-grunts -- Cassiel disappears mid sentence -- everyone again explodes into laughter.

"Well, thanks everyone. That's about it for me, I'm going to back up there and stuff. Good luck with the starvation and war and everything. Hope it gets sorted out! Alright, see ya!" Terry nod-grunts --  a FLASH -- everyone appears back where they were in the world before all that happened...

--

A pizza delivery guy stands awkwardly at the front door of an older woman in Aurora, Illinois. "Ah... did you... whaaa...?" The delivery guy asks.

"The guy named Terry and everything? You saw that too?" The older woman asks.

"Yeah, I mean... I guess I did..." The delivery guy asks. 

Neither of them know what to say.

"Hmm. Well..." He checks the receipt. "If you still want the food it's 26.92 for everything."

She shrugs. "Ah.  Sure." She fishes around in her purse for cash...