Hour 1
I pressed my cheek against the window of the car partially because it was crowded in the back seat and partially because it was the only way I could see just how many meteors were tearing through the sky, headed for the city skyline in the distance.
Everyone had fallen silent, unable to find the words for what we were witnessing, unwilling to discuss what could be the end of the world.
I didn’t know these people. Despite my efforts at creating personal space, the muscular shoulder of the heavily tattooed man sitting next to me still sat right by my head. The woman next to him chewed on her claws nervously, craning her neck to see out the windshield. It smelled like sweat and blood in here. Daria and Neve were in the front seat, calling the rest of our friends.
“There’s more of them headed for the city.”
I couldn’t see the owner of that voice but it came from the other end of the back seat. Daria’s choice in car was too small for six people.
“Their target is all humans. It makes sense that they would focus on higher concentrations,” the tattooed man said in a deep voice. The snake on his right bicep swirled until its eye came into view, staring at me. I looked away and hunched my shoulders.
“What city even is this?” Daria murmured, staring at the streaking comets.
“Fort Mosse. Keep your eyes on the road,” Neve said, laying a hand over Daria’s and placing it back on the steering wheel.
Some of the meteors winked out as they touched down inside of the city limits.
I felt sick.
How were we going to do this? The numbers didn’t line up. Even if there were Shapers within the city that were willing to fight these things, how many could even stand toe to toe with one? Someone with a Shape like Zola’s would be just as at risk as a non-Shaper.
“Heads up!” one of the other Wolves bellowed.
A meteor struck the road in front of us, spraying the road with flames and debris.
Daria swerved to avoid the crater.
“Do we stop and deal with that one?”
“Looks like we won’t need to,” Daria said grimly, staring at the rearview mirror.
Moments later something pulled alongside my window. Six crimson legs pounded the road, still trailing smoke from its entrance into the atmosphere. The main body was wide and flat, covered in interlocking plates like a lobster. Two torsos sprouted from the main body that lacked this armour. They glistened wetly in the light, holding long spikes in their hands. The head of each torso had hair that looked more like seaweed than real hair.
The head that was closer to me turned. Spiraling horns protruded from its eye sockets, yet I could feel its loathsome gaze on me all the same.
Hour 2
“Woah! Friendly!”
A man dressed in a tight-fitting bodysuit had his hand around one of the Wolf’s neck. His white cape had art of a bear on it.
I stared at him in disbelief, unsure if I’d somehow lost my sanity just as I thought I was finding it.
“How can I be sure?” the superhero asked shrewdly. “The city is under attack. As its protector, I can’t leave its civilian’s survival to chance.”
“Do we look like raw skinless freaks to you?” the Wolf asked. “Let go, we can work together.”
“Show me your I.D.s first.”
Someone let out a heart-wrenching scream from a few houses over.
“They’re already here, man! There’s no time!”
She made a choked sound as the superhero tightened his grip.
“Stop resisting and wasting my time and I’ll get to it-”
He was cut off as he was yanked backwards.
The Wolf rubbed her neck and I helped her stand back up.
The superhero turned to see a misshapen creature with long slits running parallel along its featureless head. Tiny glittery yellow eyes moved around like ants within the slits. It held his bunched up cape in its fist.
“Big mistake, bucko.”
The superhero grabbed the spawn of the Lacuna by its neck with both hands. His muscles stood out against his skintight suit as he squeezed.
The slit-faced spawn just stood there, watching. Then it reached out for the superhero’s neck. He reacted, catching the spawn’s hands in his own. I saw how his arms trembled. His eyes widened as his arms were slowly dragged out to each side. Then the slit-faced spawn’s arms just kept extending.
Superhero’s eyes widened.
“Oh no-”
Hour 4
I panted and pushed the body of the spawn off of myself with disgust. It squelched to the floor of the car repair shop. Blood drained out of its body via the pipe I’d shoved through its chest. I wiped my face, feeling the sting as some blood got in my eye. Then I reached over and opened the truck door where two mechanics were cowering.
“Find the most secure room in this place and lock all the doors, barricade yourselves in,” I told them. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t call for help. Stay there for as long as you think you can last without food or water. Go now. Before another one shows up.”
They hurriedly left the truck and ran off, disobeying my instructions.
There was no time to chase them and convince them. I had to rejoin Daria and the others.
But let me take just a second to catch my breath.
As I shut the car door, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the side mirror. My arms were slick with blood and spots of red had soaked into my clothes, even into the fur on my altered legs. I ran my hand along my thigh, feeling the burn of shame. These hadn’t belonged to me originally. They belonged to the woman that this body had belonged to. Same with the face. I didn’t remember what my face was like before, but I could still see glimpses of her in it. I suspected that I’d already unconsciously Shaped this face, as if my existence was enough to infect it.
I tried to smile.
You can’t take this back. And you remember what she said? Live as your true self.
Easier said than done. I constantly felt like a fledgling bird just learning to use its wings for the first time. Each step forward was through shame and bewilderment.
Focus on the good things.
What was good? This body felt good. It felt light and right. I was strong. Not in the same ways as before, but it felt better. But I was forcing this optimism. I couldn’t truly think about myself when Nell was still up in the sky.
“Goddamn.”
I turned to see the tattooed man leaning against the garage wall. He was shirtless so I could see the various tattoos that swirled around his torso and arms like living organisms.
“Took on two by yourself? Strong woman.”
I’d dropped a car suspended by a lift onto it and even that hadn’t finished it off. But it had been pinned long enough for me to crush its head. The shop was a mess of oil, blood, and the makeshift weapons I’d used against the spawn.
“Strong woman,” he said. “Just like Daria. I’m an old friend of hers.”
I wiped my face again. “I don’t like how they bleed red.”
“Smart, too. I had one try to speak garbled English at me.”
I let out a slow exhale and walked up to the man.
“We should rejoin the others.”
He rolled his neck. “I didn’t catch your name. I’m Bayu.”
“…Nil.”
Hour 6
They just keep coming.
Casualties were piling up. I could heal the damage to my body, I could rejuvenate myself to keep fighting, but my mind was crammed full of the faces of the dead.
Hour 7
“Two more on your right!” AJ shouted.
I glanced just in time to see a skinny spawn slip inside an apartment building. It had spines all along its back and orb-like eyes that looked in different directions. A moment later, screams erupted as it encountered people inside.
“We’ll worry about the Scholar. You go deal with those ones!” Daria shouted as she dashed away, leading a group of Shapers further into the dark downtown.
She was referring to the unique spawn we had encountered. It was more intelligent than the others. For the last hour it had been evading us and it seemed to be giving orders to the other spawn. It had also been leaving us uniquely awful calling cards…
“We’re on it,” Bayu said.
I spotted a shadow slink away as we approached the building. The other spawn, I assumed, biding its time, waiting for us to let our guard down. But the other one was higher priority.
Bayu sprang to the third story and broke through a window. I ran through the front, scaling the stairs using the railings as jumping points. Using the enhanced hearing afforded by Neve, I pinpointed the screams and dashed down a hallway.
“Help me!” a panicked voice cried out from inside an apartment. The door was ajar.
I went inside. A woman lay prone on the ground with vicious cuts along her back. Her skin was pale, already drained of her blood. There was no way she had died a second ago.
There was movement in the corner of my eye. I sprang back and spines pierced the carpet where I’d been a moment before. The spines retracted and I saw the spawn that had been clinging to the wall. Its skin flashed different colours as it stared at me with one fist-sized eye. It opened its mouth and the voice screamed out again, “Help meeeeeee!”
Mimicry and camouflage.
The spawn sprang forward and I realized too late that it wasn’t going for me. It smashed through the window onto the roof of the adjacent building. I gave chase and it spun around to shoot its retractable spines at me again. Seeing the paths of the attack, I simply split my body where it struck, pushing vital organs out of the way, rearranging muscles and skin so that the spines only poked holes in my shirt.
The control I had over my body was improving. It was as if my much more loose idea of my self had translated to a greater fluidity of my Shape.
In the moment I had been distracted, the spines retracted and the spawn had disappeared.
I sniffed the air, tuning my nose to the scent that had permeated the room of the murdered woman. Next, I borrowed a trick from the first spawn I had encountered. I breathed out and swung my arm around, letting it lengthen, fingers splayed in all directions. I brushed what looked like an ordinary section of the roof and my fingers clamped down, gripping the spine of the camouflaged hunter.
I let my arm shrink back, wincing as the bones reassembled. The Hunter was dragged towards me and I stomped its head. Spines shot out haphazardly as a wave of anger poured over me. I stomped over and over again, letting the salty fluids spray across my face until it stopped moving for good.
A shuddering breath escaped my lips.
Then a shadow passed over my head.
I looked up to see a billowing Shape fall around me, like the parachute canvas I used to play under as a kid. In an instant, it snapped tight, binding me. It felt like skin, sealing away the air, entombing me.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think straight. I didn’t want to eat this thing.
Right. There was one more out.
I reached down and touched the tattoo of a fire alarm on my belly, dragging the handle down.
The ink burned and my skin tore open. I sucked in air as the second skin lost its seal and fell away. Bayu’s face stared back at me, made entirely of ink. He lifted an arm out of my skin and seized a piece of the tattered assailant, pulling them closer.
The Second Skin flailed, seemingly having no other cards to play as it was drawn in. Bayu’s ink poured into it, creating the design of barbed wire. Blood began to pour down from the design. Real blood. The tattoo tightening, digging in, bleeding the spawn out. It snarled and tore at its own skin, which only hastened its own demise.
It took a long time for it to die. It always took so long, like these things could keep moving beyond when a regular organism would have lost all strength. They were driven by the pulsations of rage of their mother up in the sky.
And Nell’s pulses kept growing quieter. I scraped gravel into my hands, embracing the stings of my cuts and scrapes.
Bayu, the real one, landed on the rooftop and ran up to me. He observed the slain spawn and shook his head.
“How come you keep finding these fuckers before I do?”
The fire alarm tattoo had vanished from my skin and I raised my shirt to show Bayu.
He covered his eyes with a hand, looking away.
“I think you shouldn’t take on another one. It’s very taxing when it activates. I wouldn’t want you to pass out.”
I dropped my shirt back into place. “Thanks anyway,” I said while shifting uncomfortably.
“What is it?”
“I don’t like how weak these ones were. They were ambushers, sure, but why not make them as strong as the others?”
Bayu shrugged. “Maybe you’re just strong? Doesn’t seem like something to worry about.”
I shook my head. “Our enemy is intelligent. Cunning. I used to fight a lot of Aberrants, I got used to how one note they can be. But these ones, they’re different.” I gestured to the one whose head I stomped in. “That one taunted me. It used a dead woman’s voice. Why? Wouldn’t it have been better if it had escaped and gotten another chance to sneak up on me?”
“Feels like my big brother letting me win a fight,” Bayu mused. “I was always wary when he did that. Meant he had other schemes cooking. Wanted me distracted with a victory.”
I turned, stumbling as I ran back into the apartment. Where is everyone? Too many of the rooms were empty as I checked each floor. Too empty. There hadn’t been enough time to evacuate. If not living people, there should be bodies.
I came to the roof exit and kicked the door open.
A figure was crouched down next to a dark pillar in the middle of the rooftop.
The spawn turned to look at me with a head that was all mouth. Brown sludge dropped from its lips and I watched as it wiped a hand over the mouth and applied the sludge to the pillar.
The wide pillar was a jaundiced yellow, somewhat translucent with massive veins running all throughout it. Traces of noses, eyes, mouths remained on the surface.
I curled my lip in disgust. It had made that thing out of humans.
Bayu climbed onto the roof from the other side, flanking the Builder and its creation.
“Take this slow!” I called out to Bayu. He nodded and approached cautiously.
“Slow…” the Builder said, smacking its lips together.
“That’s right,” I said, trying to keep its attention. “What are you building?”
“You want to hurt me,” it said. Goosebumps ran over my body. How intelligent was this thing?
“You want to hurt us.”
“It’s what you deserve,” it said, planting a hand into a crevice in the pillar.
There was a high-pitched whine and I saw the arteries within the pillar engorge with blood. Then a section of the pillar rotated and Bayu flinched as a red line pierced its body.
The Builder grimaced and the pillar moved again, dragging the line up and out through Bayu’s shoulder.
A satellite dish behind Bayu crashed to the ground, cut in half by that same beam. Bayu turned pale, making his tattoos stand out even more. Then he collapsed, blood gushing from the cut that had nearly bisected him.
The Builder turned to me and spun the pillar. The whine flooded my ears. It was too fast, a laser beam of pressurized blood. I knew I was cut before I felt it. I breathed in. Remain calm. I asserted my Shape, letting whatever damage happen and then close behind it. The cut was clean. I could heal with minimal energy spent. I took a step and the beam cut me again.
I gritted my teeth, then stopped myself. Don’t fight it. Just keep piecing yourself back together. Another step, another cut that felt like a heated blade was being pressed into my organs.
The Builder saw me getting close and panicked, changing the angle of the beam and slicing across the rooftop. I felt the building shake and my footing began to crumble. I had to jump, but that would make me lose focus. I knew I didn’t have the mental strength to get split in half and pull myself back together.
Bayu rose up behind the Builder, body stitched back together with black ink. His hair looked as though it had become a painter’s brush. He growled and stabbed his fingers into the pillar, halting its movement. Ink began pumping into the circulatory system, turning the veins black. Fluid leaked from the sides as the insides were overloaded.
I lunged forward, seizing the Builder.
How dare you. How dare you warp these people’s bodies into something so horrific. How dare you try to take my second chance away from me.
The fire at my fingertips began to eat away at its head. My hand clutched my side, holding myself together from the last cut.
Rage flooded my veins, burning the path that my healing took.
My head snapped back and for a moment I glimpsed the inside of the Lacuna.
Thrumming wires and shifting gristle. Crystalline spires so beyond what any architect could make.
And an eye looking back at me.
I saw her. The Goddess.
I saw her face and it looked like every person I’d ever wronged, every time my father’s face flickered with the anger that a child should never see. It looked like every depiction of hatred I’d seen in paintings and sculptures. She embodied rage.
I had only one thought as the connection faded and I collapsed.
If she comes down to Earth, humanity is doomed.