Page 3

Don’t Beam Me Up

I was having yet another episode of being frozen on the spot and staring ahead.

Once again, fate was laughing in my face like that bitch who had stolen my boyfriend two years ago. After everything I had survived today, I was going to miss my chance of escape when it was under my very nose.

From the ladder’s landing, I could see my bicycle waiting for me down by the building. It was knocked down, probably by Carson’s hasty departure on his own bike, but it was there. All I had to do was go down fifteen floors, hop on it, and ride home for eight miles…

I would never make it. I knew it, yet I stood there, watching the black triangular ships over the city in the distance.

They would start dropping their bombs any minute now.

Being out in the open when that happened was suicidal.

If the bombs didn’t get me, the shockwave or the aliens themselves would.

After all, the whole point of the sirens was to make any humans run for cover, exposing themselves to the invaders from above in the process.

No wonder the bombings were starting earlier than scheduled. They were no longer aimed so much at the monsters infesting the city as at detecting any humans moving to a shelter. Clearly, the aliens were starting to get desperate as the competition for human survivors was becoming fiercer.

Sure, the aliens didn’t want humans for food.

They had actually shown up sometime after the second apocalypse as our self-proclaimed saviors.

It was some soldiers who had revealed over the radio that the aliens were an apocalypse in themselves.

Abducting humans to use as test subjects and incubators for their eggs.

So, no, don’t beam me up. Keep your seven tentacles to yourselves, please and thank you.

I sighed and closed the emergency door. It would be best to return to the conference hall.

Its reinforced windows had withstood the previous bombings, so I should be safe there while having a clear view of the outside.

As soon as those ships flew away, I would ride my bike to the bunker like my ass was on fire.

I did not want to be on the road when darkness fell.

The hall looked the same as before, the aftermath of the corporate party like a safe harbor amid the bombings outside. My gaze drifted to the bat-man. The creature lay motionless, just as I’d left him. Dead. Permanently.

As if pulled by an invisible string, my legs took me to him.

It had to be my scientific curiosity kicking in: what better chance to explore this new type of monster?

Sword in hand, I bent over the massive body for a closer look.

Not too close, though. I stayed out of reach of any limb in case the being came back to life like in some B-grade horror movie.

I just had to be careful not to step any further to the right to avoid tripping over the thick cable on the floor there.

Starting from the top: perfectly straight shoulder-length hair tucked behind a pair of pointed ears.

Eyebrows as raven-black as the hair. High cheekbones.

A well-shaped nose. A strong, angular jawline.

Tips of extra-sharp canines, much like the fangs of a vampire in movies, peeking between parted blue lips.

Face smooth and dark-blue, reminding me of the sky’s color before sunrise.

In short, nothing grotesque. Peculiar, yes, but also kind of… handsome.

My gaze dropped to his chest, broad and hairless, then to his arms and legs, thick with corded muscles. Black claws tipped each finger and toe, completing the picture.

Nothing extraordinary here either. Unless the bat-man’s loincloth was hiding something extra special… But I wasn’t going to inspect what hid underneath. Absolutely not.

The loincloth was interesting in itself, though. Unlike the brown clothing of the bat-men I had seen thus far, this one was a knee-length rectangle of golden leather that shimmered in the sunlight. It spoke of craftsmanship and fashion, even. Was this monster dressed to impress?

I was definitely impressed. In all honesty, I found him striking.

I knelt to examine his wings closer. There were sharp bones at each wing’s upper tip. The skin looked smooth, veins tracing intricate patterns beneath the surface. Tempted, I ran my fingertips along the length of a wing. Silky-smooth. I ran my palm next, unable to resist the softness.

Then I noticed it. The wound on his abdomen was smaller than before. My heart skipped. The tear in his thigh had gotten smaller, too. He was regenerating!

I jumped back, only to trip on that damn cable. I fell backward, my sword clattering to the floor as I waved my arms in a futile attempt to break my fall. I braced for impact–

I stopped falling. Just as my ass was about to hit the floor, something curled around my waist and pulled.

Suddenly, I was back on my feet. And face to face with the bat-man.

A pair of pupil-less eyes stared back at me. The dark tail holding me–the long and thin appendage I had foolishly mistaken for a cable–tightened.

My heart felt like it would burst out of my chest. I quickly diverted my gaze, in case that got interpreted as a dominance display.

I ended up staring at the wound on the creature’s thigh instead–or what remained of the wound.

The torn edges were knitting together before my eyes.

Just like the wounds of vampires healed, though a bit slower.

Maybe the bat-man was a type of vampire, after all, with those long canines of his, just one battling with the vampires I was familiar with. Over food, undoubtedly, given the dwindling supply.

Death by bloodsucking it would be for me, then.