Enter the Monsters

He awoke to a splitting headache and the smell of burnt flesh. Opening his eyes to absolute darkness, Marco Northern found himself hanging upside down from the co-pilot’s chair, his helmet uncomfortably aslant. The first thing he did was unbuckle his helmet, and then unbuckle his seatbelt.

After slamming into the helicopter controls below him, Marco realized it would have been a much wiser idea to unbuckle his helmet second, but then again, that was why Lithuania Starr was captain. “Lithuania!” Marco gasped, shocked at how he had completely forgotten about her. “Lithuania, you there?” he called through the darkness. He snatched his helmet back from the darkness and flicked on its flashlight. “Oh God!” he gasped.

Lithuania’s body, or what was left of it, was an exploded heap of entrails and muck. Her head, partially decapitated by a slice of metal, hung limply as it drizzled a stream of thick, coagulating blood over the controls below. Marco’s stomach pulled a somersault or two, and he found himself gasping for air. With a swift kick of his boot, Marco was smashing his way out through the helicopter’s lateral window.

The several hundred or so sudden emotions that raged through his heart at that moment didn’t mix very well with the gag reflex. He wretched profusely onto the scorched grass, the intensity of it all making his eyes water and his vision blur. The rain was still coming down heavily, but at least there were no signs of hail.

Once the nausea let up its grip, Marco was able to feel the distinctively heavy weight of sorrow growing in his chest. The image of Lithuania, no longer recognizable… Marco jerked his head back towards the wreckage, unable to comprehend how anyone could have survived that. Judging by the state of the aircraft and the pervading smell of burnt bodies, Marco reckoned he was the only one alive.

Marco tried to drown his grief by concentrating on the surrounding darkness and the steady drone of rain, but to no effect. He found the tears from his eyes mixing with the rain on his face, and the uncanny grip of guilt clutching and weighing down his heart. He fell to his knees miserably, cursing as he pounded the grass hopelessly with his fist. Without Lithuania, everything seemed lost. And now he, Marco, was the new Captain of Foggistan’s Helo-Fleet. Upon realizing this, Marco gave the earth one last, vigorous pound while uttering a heartfelt and resonant “Fuck!”

He had no idea what to do.

No, yes he did.

He just didn’t want to have an idea, because that would mean acknowledging Lithuania’s death, and assuming control of his new post. Frustrated, he tossed his helmet into the winds. Everything grew even darker, and he realized he had just tossed his only source of light. You really are a dumbass, he told himself, dragging himself over to the distant glimmer emitted by his helmet’s flashlight. There was no way Marco could fill Lithuania’s shoes— and it wasn’t just because she wore high-heels.

And then suddenly, the glimmer from Marco’s helmet flashlight vanished. Marco opened his eyes wide, trying to pierce the impenetrable darkness. He heard a swooping sound, as if a very large bat had just flown close to the ground. Marco squinted desperately. It was no use. He couldn’t see a thing, and the tiniest hint of panic began creeping into his skull. Take it easy, he thought. What would Lithuania do? First, she’d probably call him a dumbass for tossing his helmet. And second, she’d tell him to get a grip, and let go.

Get a grip and let go? Marco thought. Yes, that makes plenty of sense Lithuania, thank you. And then he realized he had unwittingly thought to himself precisely what Lithuania would’ve said. Yes, he did have to get a grip— of his emotions, and of the situation. Over the course of his career Marco had seen how Lithuania controlled her emotions about as well as she controlled a chopper, and this had helped her rise through the ranks. She was always clearheaded, level-minded, and in command of the situation. Despite being a woman, he thought, at which point the illusory Lithuania in his mind gave him a slap on the head. And if Marco was at all going to take command of the situation and hold his guilt and insecurity at bay, he had to let go of the fact that Lithuania was dead. “Act now, grieve later,” he told himself.

Still, he couldn’t see a thing. So he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused on his hearing. Yes, something large was certainly moving about, but the sound of the rain was masking its movements.

Focus… Focus… It swooped near his left. Then it swooped at his right. It was quick, and coming closer.

In an instant Marco pulled the pistol out from his back holster—

And shot straight ahead.

Marco threw himself backwards onto the ground, as the winged creature that had been aiming straight for his face soared right above him and came crashing down in a violent heap, it’s claws tearing at the sky right where Marco’s head had been just a few seconds before. The glimmer of Marco’s helmet flashlight reappeared in the distance, and Marco retrieved it in a matter of seconds. His heart still pounding with the adrenaline of the encounter, Marco strapped the helmet to his head and returned to where he had heard the winged creature land.

The light from his flashlight caught hold of the agonizing beast as it gave its last, convulsive movements. The first thing Marco saw was its talons. Then its vast, leathery red wings. And then…

Marco felt a boulder plummet into the depths of his stomach. It couldn’t be. As Marco stood aghast before the creature he couldn’t believe he was seeing, the light from his helmet settled upon the monster’s oozing skull and the perfectly placed bullet hole. The fangs… the black orbs that were its eyes… and the unmistakable flattened nose. Marco thought these creatures had been exterminated long ago, back in the solar system his people had abandoned so long ago… He thought every one of them had died, or at least vanished into the depths of space…

But no. There was no mistaking it. The creature lying before him was a soldier. A soldier from the dreaded Winged Armada of the Red Eye. The creature lying before him was an assassin—

An assassin from AssMachenstan.