It was all perfect and serene, like it always was before things became dramatically different, bordering on apocalyptic in many ways. Heck, some might just call it earth-shattering outright.

  For one young man in his early twenties, this was especially the case.

  On the day in question, he had gotten up before the sun like he normally did, thanks to many years of discipline his veteran father drilled into his everyday life. Never once did he complain, though.

  He took an early shower, shaved the stubborn stubble that grew every few nights, and got dressed in his typical jeans and white tank top he usually wore beneath a thin jacket or sweater around the early autumn season. However, today he wasn’t interested in going out, so he forwent the last article of clothing.

  It was mid-September, and here in Wawa, Ontario, to the higher central-lower northern part of the province where the town was situated a fair bit higher than sea level, the weather was always in flux between blistering heat and a cool fall breeze. There were still a few weeks before the leaves were going to change color, and less than a week before hunting season.

  A time many small-town folk look forward to.

  Niles LeClaire prepared his breakfast of choice — air-fried white fish and steamed vegetables — sat down at his dining room table, and scrolled through social media for recent posts and videos from outdoorsmen and similar creators.

  It was while he ate that his eyes wandered to a pair of pictures on the wall.

  One of himself as a kid and his dad in the park. He shared a lot of his father’s traits, from his brown hair that had to be kept short because if it got too long it went in every direction uncontrollably, to his green eyes and caucasian complexion. This brought a dull pain to his heart, missing his late father.

  The second, on the other hand, added a sharp, resentful pain. It was of his father, a few years before he was born, and his mother, who went missing just days after his birth. Taken in Egypt, where they met. They were younger, they were happy.

  Niles did not like looking at the photo, remembering the early years of his life, when his father was nothing but a broken man. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to take it down, as it was also what gave the man who raised him hope for another day.

  As the mix of emotions he couldn’t put into words ran rampant in his head, something fundamental changed.

  It was like a soft shockwave hit the world in one swift, barely perceptible moment. His neck hair stood on end, and his breath got caught in his throat for what felt like minutes, but couldn’t be more than a few seconds.

  Still holding his phone, he refreshed the pages and saw posts that didn’t make any sense. One was from a gun reviewer who mentioned that, while filming a special on World War 1 munitions just minutes ago, he found that none of the gunpowder or grenades worked. This was followed up by another stating that even his everyday carry handgun didn’t work anymore.

  A few more articles came up after several minutes, mentioning strange movements outside and people seeing fireballs falling from the sky.

  Then, the internet went out, along with the power.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Leaving his plate half finished, he got up from his seat and walked through to his living room and down the stairs to his left in search of the breaker box.

  Down the stairs and narrow corridor lined with pine wood panels, the main breaker and box to his right showed no signs of anything wrong. Meaning it was a full-on outage. After all, the bills were automatically paid.

  Closing the thin door of the breaker box, Niles turned on his heel, taking two uneasy steps forward before–

  “AAARGH!!!” A violent, blood-curdling shout resounded from in front of his house.

  Hearing this, a chill ran up his spine. He couldn’t hesitate.

  With three large steps, he knelt before a large safe, punching in the code and turning the combination dial with speed, showing how often he had done so. The thick steel door opened, revealing several hunting rifles and a full stock of ammunition. Taking the first one he could get his hand on and a handful of bullets.

  Running back up the stairs, rushing to load the bolt-action rifle, he kept low to the floor as he approached the massive window.

  It wasn’t even midday. As such, he knew the only people around were the retirees down the road, too far to hear, and the young couple across the road, ready to be new parents. And given the tone of the scream just prior, it had to be the husband, as far as he could tell.

  Gun at the ready, he got right up to the picture window and peeked through the gap in the curtains. What Niles saw left him frozen in shock.

  He even had to bite his cheeks and cover his mouth to avoid screaming.

  It was exactly who he thought it was. The neighbour across from him. However, it wasn’t just the husband. Both he and his pregnant wife were there, lying lifeless on the curb and in their driveway, surrounded by short, spindly-limbed humanoid creatures, tearing up their flesh and devouring them mercilessly.

  On the rooftops nearby were giant birds covered in white and grey feathers, looming over the scene. They had to be at least the size of emus, but with a wingspan more than wide enough to grant them flight.

  In the corner of his eye, he saw something slithering in the distance, as well as the silhouettes of dog-like beasts running after someone towards the nearby motel.

  There was blood streaming down the pavement. And what’s worse, the sky was falling, just as he had seen on the online posts. Small and massive balls of fire were raining down from the heavens.

  Niles couldn’t stay. There was no telling how long it would take before those green creatures walking around in thin loincloths with rudimentary spears figured out they could break open a window to get into the houses.

  His neighbours were dead. It was too late to save them.

  Gritting his teeth and pushing past despair, he carefully left the window to avoid attention and made his way to the kitchen. Once there, he opened the cabinet under the sink and moved all the cleaning supplies to the floor and to one side.

  On the side he cleared, he stuck his pinky finger in a small groove, pulled even though it hurt like hell, and lifted the secret compartment’s hatch.

  Beneath was a rucksack — a go-bag filled with all the necessary survival gear he would need to stay out in the woods.

  He stared at it for a second and thought, ‘Thanks for prepping me to a paranoid degree, Dad.’

  As he pulled out the sack from the hidden stash, he gave it a cursory inspection. This was one he had recently restocked and swapped the expired goods for fresher stuff. It had a fire blanket to reflect heat from a fire in the winter, a spare canteen, plastic water bottles, knives, a folding saw, canned food and hardtack, fishing line and hooks, and much more.

  Everything was strapped down tight to prevent excess noise.

  Once that was good, he paused for a split second. With gritted teeth, he snuck over to the wall and grabbed the only two family photos he had.

  Even if he would rather burn one of them.

  Carefully making his way into the dining room again, he slid the glass door of the china cabinet open and pulled out the handcrafted bow he made back in high school from the display.

  His other bows were downstairs, and he couldn’t risk getting stuck down there if those things managed to get inside somehow.

  Instead, he took the old bow, well-maintained simply out of pride that he won an archery contest with it, and the arrows he kept behind it.

  With all this gear, he put on the warmest jacket he could get, his heavy-duty work boots, and checked his exits.

  The front door was a no-go. Those monsters were done with their feast and enjoying the sight of the bird nipping at the scraps. And the side door had a few of them exploring just outside, making him thankful he hadn’t unlocked any doors yet.

  Just as he was turning to check the back door, a loud “Grrrrooooaaann” echoed from that direction, scaring away the green abominations.

  Yet another unknown variable had entered, adding to Niles’ weariness.

  He still had to check the back, so he walked back up the three steps and looked out the small window above the sink. His garage took up half his view, but he could make out a wide, lumbering figure the size of a grizzly.

  To get a better idea, he took a spray can of cooking oil, lubricated the hinges to prevent squeaking, and looked through the screen door.

  Compared to the other foreign entities roaming he'd seen, this one was wholly alien.