Another short story for the 'Hearts And Minds' section of writing.

Not sure what compelled me to write this, but this is a point of view of a 'soldier' during the invasion of Earth. Specificifally, one who's group took up shelter in a warehouse. A warehouse/complex that appeared as well in 'Hearts And Minds'. It can be read stand-alone and I hope it holds weight with just that. Though this is meant to 'compliment' the other story.

Universe made by  Sarya

Please do yourself a favor, and read his wonderful series Integration

Artwork/Picture is unknown

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Freezing air clawed at my skin through the paltry rough jacket I wore, and hunger gnawed at me between the warm folds. Though here in the warehouse, food was a scarce resource. I had to wait my turn, and I would gladly wait as long as needed. It has been two weeks since those things landed, and here I sit trembling in my little soldier boy uniform.

Laying carelessly across my lap was a rifle. Worn, damaged, but still operational. However, it barely gave worth compared to its weight. Many of us joked that our guns were 'bastardized' due to their ineffectiveness against these alien demons.

But I've seen what our rifles can do...

They can draw attention and get these demons angry at whoever dares fire at them. Send these things into a happy rage against their attacker. My rifle was a one-time distraction and a dept of sacrifice I owed when my time came.

I've seen this, and I know the use of our rifles.

Hendrick was my best friend, a man I once knew, and I still thank him silently each night for his sacrifice.

My teeth still rattled from the giants tremor inducing steps. The voice of Hendrick echoed with each slurry of insults he had thrown. He was brave, or stupid, right into the end. A lone demon had found us out, and he wasted no time drawing its attention from us with his rifle.

I couldn't stomach looking back as our group ran away. But the man's abrupt silence told me all there was to know. Rumor has spread now that these demons enjoy our fear, suffering, and pain. After that day, I don't doubt it in the slightest.

It is still hard to accept that it was just two days ago that we smiled and laughed inside a forgotten gas station...

We had set up a fire and told stories, and he was what we called a 'Runner.' A daredevil with a death wish, tempting fate to save those he could from these demons.

But that was then, and this is now.

I was one of the few given rest inside the warehouse we now called home. Many of the others kept guard outside, for a time at least. They watched to be sure the demons didn't find us without warning. Not that we could do anything to stop them with our guns. But we could make a distraction...

We are twenty men strong; the women, children, and elderly were that which we protected. If Nothing else, our guns could buy some of them a chance at another day.

Throughout my childhood, I had heard the war stories, glorified to hell but inspiring nonetheless. Nothing they could have told me would prepare me for the world outside now. Humans took to shelter like scared animals. Praying the demons to pass us without suspicion.

Some of our older members, too old and weak to take arms, spoke of their heroic war stories. As if blissfully unaware that hell had descended upon us.

With each of their stories, that was when man fought the fellow man. This was different; this was hell, the devil finally playing his final card. Sealing humanity's fate under the armored boots of his space-born demons.

Fear hung over us like a smothering blanket each day in the warehouse. Word spread that a 'scout' among the demons worked as an underground railroad. Ferrying humans could lead them to safety. But the demon's actions were short-lived. Word spread that the town it was occupying went up in bright blue flames one night. None of us had the stomach to check for survivors for fear of what we might find.

There was a cough and sniffle across from me, and as I glanced up, I gave a tired wave. A little boy, soot and dirt dotted a face that had to mature far too early. This hell was no place for a child to grow up...

I've seen this boy before. He checked around all the guards periodically. Despite his young age, he thought he was doing good. Making sure all of the protectors were doing fine.

I'd raise a hand to him, but I was too cold to move without purpose. I patted my rifle to tell him we would keep him safe.

He hurried away, ducking into the darker recesses of the warehouse. How quickly he vanished left me amused. Hiding away in the dark was something we'd been doing. Not daring to light a fire or turn on lights.

Not that it would help. A theory turned into truth when we realized these demons could see in the darkest darks. Just two days before, they gunned down other survivors under the blanket of the night as if it were as bright as day.

We had been lucky that night. Having split into two separate groups. One for the mountains, while the other towards a valley. We had chosen the mountains, and when we looked down to see several demons finding the other group, we knew we had chosen the right path.

Many of us turned away, knowing there was nothing to do for our lost friends. Yet something compelled me to watch, forcing my gaze far down to the group in the slim hope they would be let go...

There is no hell imaginable that can compare to a demon grabbing you or someone else... I pray I never have to see such horrors again...

We were fifty men strong when we split. Hiding was a cowardly move, but cowards survive. Finding a warehouse situated in the blistering snow, we carefully prepared to hide our tracks. Nothing was spilled, no marks in the snow, no campfires or smoke.

Word spread that humans were taking up arms against our aggressors.

Sabotaging the demon's foods, detonating hand-made explosives near their tents or power cells.

Even make-shift flashbangs launched at the demon's faces, drawn back on stretchy gym elastic ropes.

Human ingenuity is a beautiful thing when mixed with our insane ideas. Before the split, we gathered all those we could, and after the loss of Hendrick as a Runner, someone else had to take his stead.

Thomas was a Runner, and I was the distraction. He had snuck into a demon-controlled town, and in the late evening, the plan was for him to rush them out while I cause a disturbance.

With only a flashbang, an elastic rope, a rifle, and a death wish, I took position outside the town of Ridgeway.

There was a reason he had chosen this location for the run, as only a single lone demon sat without a care in the world. Since it didn't seem to move, I wrapped the elastic band between two trees and held the flashbang in my hand.

This demon was larger than the rest, a giant among giants. Its armor seemed thicker, so I assumed it was a commander. I remember doubting if our runner had even made it into town, as it was common for them to be caught. It was a guessing game, but I still waited, watching the demon.

The giant of giants wasn't moving, its eyes facing down to a food bar in its hands. Though it didn't notice me, its gaze was oddly solemn. But giving any semblance of humanity to these things was a joke none should laugh along with.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a directed flashlight flicker. Once, then twice, then three times consecutively.

Knowing this was my cue, I pulled back on the elastic rope and aimed high. In rare cases, hitting the ridge of a demon's nose would blind it entirely for those lucky enough.

I released the rope using my flashlight to flicker the signal back to Thomas.

I watched the projectile fly, hitting the demon's snout instead. The flash had stunned it, though without blinding the beast, I stood up abruptly. Dropping my sling to grab my rifle, clicking the trigger once. The gunshot rang out, even if the bullet was ineffective.

I saw Thomas rush five others from the town into the woods from the corner of my eye. He paused and gave me a small salute before vanishing into the treeline.

I still remember its look as it snapped over to me. Its humming rifle reverberated in my ears as it trained dead onto me.

I had been frozen in fear. There was little one could do to reason with the demons. Those trapped in towns were kept locked tight. Shot or worse if they tried to escape. But as long as my sacrifice saved a few...

The demon looked at me, through me. As if looking at a friend's face and couldn't remember their name. It's eyes were far more human than any others I had seen.

Its rifle lowered as it saw I was alone. I couldn't make myself move as much as I had screamed at myself to run or die.

I expected it to stand and give chase. To grab me and give me the same fate as my lost friend...

But its eyes softened...

I shuddered to think of what was going through its mind. The demon could have clicked its trigger and erased me from existence then and there. Yet even now, in the warehouses freezing air, my chest burned with a question...

Had the demon spared me that day..?

Nobody else believed me when I repeated the story. Of how the demon, after I made a stupid attempt to attack it, turned away. Not out of disinterest, but something was in that demon's gaze...

Was there a spark of humanity within those orange eyes? Had it looked at me with pity or boredom? I figured the latter, but now I wonder if it did spare me out of pity.

A young little soldier boy, no older than seventeen... Sacrificing himself to save five people he may never get thanks from... Had it seen me that way?

Before I could determine an answer for myself, a gruff and tired man tapped my shoulder. Not a word needed to be exchanged, and soon we changed places. Shortly I helped him to some warm water as he tried to rest. It was my turn outside.

Shift's rotated every handful of hours, and I hastily drank hot soup from a tin container. Stepping out to the freezing weather to keep watch. Now was the time to keep an eye out and think...

I always wondered which was worse. All hell breaking loose, or fragments of hell? If all hell broke loose, at least you can claim that as a solid fact. But fragments were harder to identify, to reason down into a black and white point of view.

Each of these titanic demons was a fragment of a sort. But the giant among giants broke my black and white view of this war. Yes, I've seen human bandits, but humans as a whole were the good guys. These demons were invaders, but something told me not all of them were ready for what they witnessed.

I lost myself in thought as the hours passed. There was never a time when fear didn't snap my eyes here or there. But the warehouse was safe, and we took every chance to ensure that. The demons couldn't know where we were.

Trees in the distance moved, but slowly, easing my worries for a moment. The wind was blowing, which must have been the cause of such a shift...

It was one thing to accept a situation and live with it, own it to the best of one's abilities. But it was another entirely to distance yourself from a situation and hope for another hand to rescue you.

Still trapped in the towns, all the people waited for our hands. There were other groups out there, fighting the same fight we were. But our drive died as week two pressed on. What little hope we had died during that fateful night; many loved ones and able-bodied men were lost in a blaze of plasma.

From the woods, I heard the groan of a tree being pushed. What I first thought was the wind again turned sour as I saw orange lights through the tree line... Then a rifle, large and long... Then a face, then another, then more... They had come...

Everything happened so suddenly...

Bright blue sparks of light erupted from their guns and hailed down either on or around the warehouse. Pelting it, but not destroying, at least not yet.

We did everything right...

We hid our tracks, and we strayed from roads!

And yet these things still found us! Was it a gasoline smell? Gunpowder? None of us have fired our rifles, even in testing, for fear the demons could smell it.

With the warehouse burning and the screams of those damned inside playing out...

We had lost.

My rifle had left me sometime during the short battle. The chances it would have given were muted when the demons blasted the warehouse apart in a slurry of blue plasma. Didn't even give the others a chance...

Like the other soldiers, I wanted to run to the flames and help any I could. Yet, something kept me frozen in place as the heat from the fires pelted my face.

Many had gotten out, burned but alive... The demon's voices yelled out at us, raising their rifles while ordering us in line. Those who didn't comply were erased in a violent light of plasma. Leaving a smoldering hole where the brave man or woman once stood.

The demon was there again... The giant among giants...

Its eyes trained on me. The giant among giants was the only of its groop that didn't fire its rifle. But our pitiful defense was still crushed by those under its command.

Its grey face turned to that of pain as it saw me. A stark contrast to the giddy grin of the orange demon beside it. It seemed to speak, but whatever words it said were lost in translation...

Those that survived were lined up like cows in the butcher house. The demons laughed and cackled, praising their ill-won victory against those who couldn't fight back...

The giant among giants still stared at me... It knew me... I knew it... Or, perhaps in another time, that could be the case...

My fridged legs shook as I swallowed hard... Its gaze finally tore from me, looking down before gesturing vaguely...

As it spoke in twisted hisses, the other demons encroached on us...

I knew this demon... My family knew this demon... The only one who seemed to have a heart... Now releasing the bloodhounds on those it must... Sacrifice the few to spare the many...

We were the distraction for the demon's desires... And I pray our sacrifices bought some unseen others... Just a bit more time...

The giant among giants took a final look at me, despite its smaller orange counterpart stepping closer. I met its gaze as the orange demon chose me...

Can a demon feel pity..?