Without looking back, Ignacio rammed through the door.
Behind him, explosions roared as the Monsters continued their destruction of the few remaining buildings.
He was barely 17, a torn and ragged survivor from when they had sunk his home beneath the Gulf of Mexico. His hair was long and worn, his clothes nothing more than scraps of cloth.
He held a shotgun in a tight death grip between his hands. Although it was out of ammo, the double-barreled hinge-action firearm had saved his life three times before, and he was a descent shot.
Moving quickly, he made his way across the litter strewn floor.
All around him were smashed boxes, broken bottles, and shattered glass.
Like everywhere else, there was nothing here. Looted and stripped of anything usable, the only things left were the traps.
When the attacks had first began, no one was prepared for such complete annihilation of the world’s armies. As the attacks had spread outward from their localized engagements and into more populated areas, many panicked, others fought, and still others set up traps. Many towns were now nothing more than minefields in just months.
As Ignacio stepped he was careful to watch himself. It wouldn’t do to survive the monsters just to die by human device. Plus, it could warn them that there might be more.
It was then that the building burst into flame.
…
She smiled contently to herself.
The destruction of the city was going smoothly, just as the General had planned.
Soon her squad would be finished, and the next wave would move in.
Without looking at the burning building behind her, she continued walking.
…
Coughing violently, Ignacio struggled to breathe.
The air was thick with heavy black smoke. It was so strong, he had to crouch just to see.
He stumbled along blindly, praying he would find the exit in time.
…
She turned quickly, vulpine ears focused intently.
Something in the building was still alive.
…
He awoke to darkness.
“Ugh!”
Moaning, Ignacio tried to sit up.
“I wouldn’t even try that human,” a cold female voice said to his left.
With a sharp crackle, Ignacio felt his body ratchet with pain as electricity surged through him.
A strong hand pushed him back down and the pain stopped.
“Who are you?” Ignacio gasped once he caught his breathe. “Where am I? Why’s it so dark?”
“My, my, so many questions,” chimed a soft melodic voice. “Where to begin?”
Cold fingernails scraped along Ignacio’s cheek.
“We are what you fear, the things you hate so much.”
A second set of fingernails stroked his other cheek.
“We are a fuse, insurgent, a shock to the system.”
“What?”
“Icarod Mathers showed you how.”
“Mom…”
“No,” the melodic voice quickly cut off the cold voice. “Don’t say it.”
“Who are you people?” Ignacio asked again.
The fingernails stopped their caress.
Cold fingers gripped his head tightly.
“Pokegirls,” the melodic voice told him.
“A what now?”
The cold voice laughed aloud. “Pokegirls,” she said. “Human genetics reconstructed. The ‘Monsters’ that destroyed your homes and families.”
A cold shiver ran through Ignacio.
Monsters. The Monsters.
“Are you gonna eat me?”
“No,” said the melodic voice, “we don’t eat humans.”
“Tastes nasty,” said the cold voice. “Like a piece of cardboard covered in thick algae.”
Ignacio gulped. “Then…what do you want?”
“To be free.”
A hand grabbed his crotch.
Cold shivers ran throughout Ignacio’s body.
“Will you?”
“Why? How?”
“I’ve served him all my life, all three years. My sister-daughter for just as long. He’s gone insane. And now, we know how to get free from him.” The hand squeezed him tightly. “With this.”
“My dick? That’s crazy.”
“Maybe,” said the soft voice, “but it is true.”
“Give us freedom from insanity,” said the cold voice, “And we’ll give you freedom from darkness. We can’t fix your eyes, but we can get you new ones.”
“What’s wrong with my eyes? What are you talking about?”
“It’s not dark in here,” said the melodic voice.
“You mean…”
“You nearly died,” the cold voice said. “I did what I could, but I’m not a healer.”
“Either way,” the melodic voice said, we need to hurry. The Vixxen that ate your eyes isn’t dead and she will come after us.”
“Just one last question,” Ignacio said a tremble in his shaky voice.
“What is it?”
“What are your names?”