I was sitting on my front porch,
rocking gently in the wooden bench swing, enjoying the cool fall breeze. The air was crisp as the temperature was
slowly dropping. The sky was clear and
calm, allowing the stars to shine bright.
My dog was sitting at my feet, sleeping
soundly. I took a long drink of my RC
Cola before taking a bite of my chocolate Moon Pie. Without thinking I looked up at the moon at
the moment. It too was big and bright,
glowing as it was nearly full.
Suddenly my dog’s head popped up,
smelling something in the air that I could not.
That’s when I saw the little bastard with the big head across the
street. My dog began to bark
uncontrollably, pulling against his leash, wanting to take a bite out of the
little bastard, another sign of an alien presence.
I dropped my drink, jumping off the
swing, and ran inside to grab my sword.
The only proper way to kill a Grey is to remove its big head. If you kill it any other way, the body will
disappear and there will be no proof of the encounter.
As I came back outside I unhooked
my dog’s leash and let him loose. He
took off like a rocket, chasing after the Grey and I ran to follow. Turns out the little bastard was only a four
houses away.
“Hey,” I shouted as I raised my
sword above my head, ready to chop him down.
The Grey turned to see me and my
dog running full steam toward him. He
dropped his bag and started running away from me.
“You won’t make it to your ship,” I
taunted as I caught up to him, his little legs were no match for me.
Towering over him I swung down but
because of my forward momentum I missed.
Seeing that I was off balance he tried to tackle my midsection, punching
me in my balls, catching me off guard with his shortness.
I never heard of Greys fighting
back before and now I know why, they have no strength. If the little bastard wanted to play, I could
play.
I picked him up, lifting his torso
onto my shoulder, before spinning him around once to gain momentum. I felt more
like a pro wrestler than a Hunter. I was
going to enjoy this more than I should, I could tell. I slammed his body down hard, the sound of his
back cracking upon impact with the ground filling the silent air. He rolled slowly, trying to touch his back,
moaning and cursing in Spanish.
“Looks like I caught me one of
those Mexico City Greys,” I said to my dog with a smile. He continued to bark at the little bastard,
jumping forward one step before jumping back, wanting to bite him but not
wanting to get in my way. Lifting my
sword once more, I taunted, “Guess you and your buddies should have stayed out
of Texas.”
I swung down hard, cutting off his
big head. As it rolled toward me I stopped
it with my foot.
“I’ve always wanted an alien soccer
ball,” I said, smiling wide, proud of my victory. I bent down to pick up the head and a human
head fell out. Shit! Wrong type of alien! And that’s why I hate Halloween.
