The reporter and policemen suddenly stop their scuffle, stunned by the sound of the gunfire, their heads whipping around to look. The shadow disappears as if moving back to take refuge back into the safety of the smoke. The firing stops and there is a stony silence coming from the TV. Almost immediately, the reporter resists again whilst attempting to also look into the camera to carry on his report; after all, he is at risk of missing out on reporting on the news event of his career.
The silence is pierced by what I can only describe as a deathly screech emanating from the smoke. At once, the shadows are back, moving like a wave in the smoke, which is now moving ever closer towards the soldiers’ positions. Again, the gunfire starts, but it doesn’t seem to be stopping the wave of shadows this time, which are ominously getting larger and closer.
The reporter continues to struggle and neither he nor the policemen are aware of the dark shadow moving towards them, the gunfire continuing. One of the officers looks up and suddenly stops his attempts at restraining the reporter, grabs the other policeman and points to the wave of shadows coming toward them. They both release the reporter who is now on his knees facing the camera, and they scurry out of shot.
The reporter with his hands cuffed behind his back lifts his head in rage and protest but as he does, the shadows move out of the smoke, about twenty meters in front of the ring of soldiers.
I am taken aback by what I see, moving back on my arms on the bed, my stomach churning again. Out of the smoke, what can only be described as the living dead emerge, moving at speed, faces warped and disfigured, eyes bulging, and teeth, teeth as I’ve never seen before. Their lips are near gone, their mouths so wide with protruding teeth, ready to devour anyone in their path.
The soldiers fire and fire, automatic weapons spilling out bullets, but it doesn’t stop this wave of death rushing towards them. The odd creature falls here or there, but there are others, many others to take their place, weaving and jumping towards the camera. Within seconds, they reach the barriers; the first ones leap over with ease whilst others use the barriers as springboards to jump off even higher, almost flying. And then they are on top of the soldiers.
Some attempt to get to their feet to run, but they fail; they have left their retreat too late and they are too slow, also weighed down by their body armour.
The noise is hideous, screaming and screeching, both human and inhuman. The soldiers try to fight but it is futile; these hideous things overrun them. I cannot see in any detail what is happening to the troops. There are just too many of these creatures all over them. Then suddenly, one soldier emerges, breaking free, a young lad who must be about Josh’s age, trying to escape. He cannot though, as a creature is on him immediately. The lad tries in vain to fight it off and then the thing’s teeth clamp down hard and violently into the soldier’s upper arm.
It immediately rips its head upwards and, with it, takes a large chunk of flesh. Blood pours from the soldier’s arm. The look of terror and shock on the soldier’s face is horrific and the soldier drops to the ground, the creature following him down, its mouth wide again.
This has happened in an instant, at the same time as the reporter who is still facing the camera attempts to get up from his knees and starts to turn to look behind him. The same creature that has just taken a lump of flesh from the soldier jumps again off the ground, hurtling through the air and landing on the reporter’s back. The reporter screams, his mouth wide and his eyes bulging, fear engulfing his face. The creature’s head flashes around to the reporter's exposed throat, then whips back. The reporter's throat is torn from his neck. Blood gushes out, spilling down across his chest, his eyes rolling back in their sockets and he falls away from the camera’s field of vision, leaving the beast in full view. The Beast’s grotesque teeth are visible with flesh, blood, veins and God only knows what else between them. Then with one quick flick of its head, the reporter's throat disappears into this Beast’s own cavernous gullet.
I am, horrified, shocked, stunned, near paralysed, as the Beast brings his head down, looking straight into the camera. The thing is terrifying, its eyes like saucers, yellow with black bloodshot veins and black holes in the middle, and with no life I recognise behind them. Its skin is a translucent grey, its mouth too. I still can’t see any lips—or are they hidden beneath the blood that is spread all over its mouth and drips from its chin?
It stares at me through the screen, to the side of it another approaching from the carnage behind. But immediately, the first turns and makes an unholy screeching sound to the one approaching, that instantly bows its head and retreats.
Again, it turns and stares through the screen, as if it knows we are all watching, revealing to us its horror. The Beast leans in, looking closer into the camera whilst tipping its head to one side, eyes widening even further.
In the background, a different noise comes through the television's speakers, the sound of helicopters. The Beast again screams, directly at
