The last thing I remembered was the sky falling. Chaos reigned and misery rose.
We knew they were there, lurking above, probably watching us from beyond our atmosphere. We just didn't know who they were, why they were here, or what they wanted.
At first it was kind of cool. You know, confirming we aren't alone in the universe and all that. It was like a worldwide epiphany that we were all universally experiencing - figuratively and literally.
I'm telling ya, I don't know if anyone who started a telescope business ever thought to themselves 'hell yeah! this is gonna make me filthy rich', but if anyone ever did, they'd have been right.
You'd see entire neighborhoods out at night just looking through their telescopes, watching, waiting to see if anything thing happened. For weeks there were viewing parties, live streams, fresh dank memes.
That one previously unpopular nerdy kid down the street that had a telescope and knew all the constellations was now the most popular kid on the block.
We waited, and waited, and waited, but nothing ever really happened. Peering through more powerful telescopes, you could see the lights were on, so there was definitely someone in.
These gargantuan grey, cookie-looking space ships apparently just chilling in the vicinity of earth, not really doing anything. On the internet, there was a whole community monitoring wavelengths, tracking changes in lights that appeared on the ships, but still... nada.
It didn't feel right to just call them 'aliens' either. I think movies washed away the dramatic implications that word could have in real life. So because they were just... there, somehow we started calling them 'the lurkers'.
In time and in true Hollywood fashion, of course, we splintered off into groups that, if anything, were the manifestation of our fears and fantasies. The raw parts of our personalities that came to the surface when something life changing or life shattering happens.
Naturally, some people were excited for first contact, others were not. Uncertainty was settling in and it was making the world uncomfortable.
There were the folks that held optimistic hope that the lurkers were here to share technology, knowledge and form some sort of meta diplomatic relationship. I called these guys the 'third kinders' and as it turns out they were the most naive.
Then there were whacko's, the hard-core sci-fi fans, that for some reason expected we would be inducted into some sort of space-opera galactic alliance. I didn't even need to think of a name for these guys, they basically already had one. Trekkies. You'd think that this group were the most naive, but actually they were weirdly aware of the possible dangers the lurkers posed, they just didn't care. Presumably the notion of going where no man had gone before was too alluring.
Then lastly there were the naysayers, the doomsdayers and the divine fear-mongerers. Needless to say that this group started panic buying the moment the rumours of the lurkers was validated. One of my neighbours, Jimmy, huge dude, easily 200cm, had muscles that made babies cry, even built a shelter in his back yard. As evidenced by Jimmy, as nice as he was, this group usually had the lowest IQ count. I'm genuinely not sure what he was trying to accomplish, maybe it was deluded reassurance, but I'm not convinced a metre of dirt and some concrete was going to prevent an advanced civilisation capable of interstellar travel from breaking in and stealing his canned food.
Anyone who didn't fall into these groups were simply resigned to going with the flow.
Two months went by, the UN confirmed they'd attempted to make contact, but to no avail. News outlets always had a different story to tell:
"UN constructs sci-fi space fleet to defend against possible invaders" - Hound News
"NASA make contact with cosmic lurkers" - AAB
"ISS armed! First soldiers aboard newly weaponised research station" - El Gavoora
It was the same as ever though, the media stirred the pot and the public didn't know what to believe.
Eventually, interest petered out and the world went on as usual, just with a lot more telescopes being produced and bunker businesses.
That was, until the 16th of August 2021, when on an otherwise innocuous day, sat in traffic, on my way home from my boring-ass job, some sort of blue shock wave rippled right over the surface if the earth.
I remember it disorienting me, producing a deafening low pitch tone that seemed to absorb sound itself for a few seconds, as it passed. It then reverberated it back again, causing an alarming number of people to pass out, throw up, alleviate themselves, or get nosebleeds. I unfortunately, or rather, fortunately - compared to what I could see happening to other people - fell into the nosebleed category
Not wanting to wash blood stains out of my seats later, I leapt out of my car, my nose pinched, head tilted back and eyes closed, letting out a begrudged sigh.
My senses were all discombobulated. My hearing was still muffled from the shock wave toasting my ears, my head was spinning from the disorientation and my swollen nose was screwing with my eyes a little.
Which is why it took me a second to take notice of the screams coming from around me.
Women, children, men. There was shouting, yelping and literal blood-curdling screams.
It wasn't until I opened my eyes I realised why.
Fiery chunks of what can only be assumed to be space wreckage descended on the earth, like the heavens were kicking out embers of a fire. I spun around, scanning every direction. It was everywhere, falling from every angle, exploding both in the air and upon impact with the surface.
What the hell happened? Obviously this has something to do with the lurkers but what changed, why now? So many questions popped into my head, so many fears too. Obtrusive thoughts, just begging to be acknowledged.
I lunged for my car door, I needed to grab my phone. It's strange, you hear people say that when it's your last moments all you can think about is your loved ones, I never really thought that was true. Honestly, I didn't think the overwhelming nature of your demise could be subsided by anything. I guess I was wrong.
All I could think about was Abi, my wife, my kids and my dog. Nothing around me mattered, the chaos, the puddles of urine and puke. Nothing. I just wanted to hear their voices and tell them I loved them.
Before I could open the car door, the wrath of lurker-mania raining from the sky dropped some sort of electrified debris on the blue hybrid car in the next lane. I only caught it for a split second, but in the face of death, time seemed to slow. But I could tell, the debris was emitting the same light as the shockwave. The impact and ensuing explosion expelled everything within five metres outwared in cloud of dust, knocking me out clean.
That's the last thing I remember. My face contorting and getting smushed as the wall of air from the blast blew me away. A bit like gelatine hitting the floor.
I could have sworn that would have killed me. Am I dead, is my consciousness just floating in limbo, waiting to get to heaven? I had a tonne of questions, admittedly, the majority of which were excruciatingly existential.
Although having said that, I could swear I had memories of voices. Talk of lurkers, the apocalypse and, oh yeah, did someone say superpowers?