Attack On Watanabe

Seargeant Solomon gives us—his maggots—a direct order to remain inside of our modular tent—our home away from home—until the Gorgon threat is neutralized by the Star Force. Star Force, New Japan's modern-day superheroes who save the day via florae-powered Mechas, is a team of fifty-plus Cadets who have sworn an oath to do battle with any and all threats to Mother Earth. It’s a routine they must complete frequently—a never-ending merry-go-round that’s been in perpetual motion for over two hundred years.

It is written, in our history books, which date back to the olden days of Japan, before the Galactic War of 2027, that the Gorgons made first contact via a quantum radio message that the United States Government had intercepted. Till this day, that message is classified, and, shortly after the U.S. sent a reply, the Gorgon's attacked.

The message, and half the world was lost, thereafter. Since then, the Gorgons have made it their mission to destroy Earth. All attempts at communication, to foster peace between worlds, have gone silent on the Gorgons' end.

To combat the Gorgons, many nations collaborated to engineer weapons of alien destruction, from Mechas to enhanced humans with cybernetic modifications, chemical-laden space explosives, weaponized satellites and the list goes on.

And so… the Earthling and Gorgon battle has seen no rest.

Seargeant Solomon’s walkie chirps with a message from Base Commander Mayumi Okada.

“This is Base to Seargeant Solomon—do you copy?”

“I copy, Sir.”

“Seargeant—” Mayumi tuts, before saying “—we need all hands-on deck! We have Squids on foot! I repeat: We have Squids on foot. Arm your recruits, Sarge. Give them the basics and… and pray they live to see another day.”

Seargeant Solomon mutters a string of ungentlemanly words. “Copy that, Sir. I’ll… I’ll get my maggots geared up.”

The Seargeant glances at us as a frown deepens on his face. Judging by the way all the recruits and I gawk at one another with large, frightened eyes, Seargeant Solomon knows that we are nowhere near ready to take on any sort of threat.

“Has anyone here ever used a firearm before?” Asks the Seargeant, his voice carrying over the alarms.

No one answers. Not a hand shoots in the air to confirm that we’ve ever held a gun in our hands.

“You!” Seargeant Solomon points at Nobuyuki, the large man attempting to quell his shivering body who stands in the center of the massive tent. “Beneath your feet, under the gravel, you’ll find emergency weaponry.”

With one foot, Nobuyuki sweeps aside rocks and dirt to unveil a rusted, amber handwheel sticking out from the ground. Rolling up both sleeves, Nobuyuki turns the wheel counterclockwise until a loud whoosh of air barrels out of the open hatch door. The big man reaches both hands inside, pulls out a metal case as wide as his arms span and sets it down with a thunk.

“Inside, you’ll find an assortment of ray-guns that I pray you will keep you all safe.” Seargeant Solomon walks to the box and, with a swift kick to its side, pops the box open. “But I stopped believing in prayer eons ago.”

Swiping up a ray-gun—a sleek, honeycomb patterned, aqua-hued laser gun—Sergeant Solomon lists off the only thing to do after activating the gun: “Point and shoot! These guns are designed to shred through Gorgon flesh and armor. Another thing: Do not hesitate! Gorgons don’t give a damn if you’re unarmed, or if you’re pleading with them to spare you and your child… Those Aliens have no soul. No remorse. They just don’t give a damn. So, I need for all you maggots to not give a damn either! Shoot to kill. Not to incapacitate! SHOOT TO KILL!”

Seargeant Solomon, with a ray-gun in hand, departs the tent like a bull charging into battle.

“Everyone, arm yourselves!” Melokuhle picks up two ray-guns, hands one to Momo and the other he keeps for himself.

“Let’s kill our first Gorgon,” the twins say, smiling ear to ear as they prepare themselves for whatever may come.

“Hadassah?” Nobuyuki waves me over to the box of guns.

I hadn’t realized that, since the alarms went off and the Gorgons threat became a reality, I’ve been statue-still, standing in place. Something wet slips down my face—

“I’m crying?” I say to myself.

“It’s okay…” Nobuyuki extends his hand with a ray-gun for me to take. Attempting to convey a comforting smile, Nobuyuki sighs. “I-I’m…I’m…” He starts and stops. Shakes his head before patting me on the shoulder.

Melokuhle snaps his fingers. “Guys…” His eyes dart all around the tent as he cups one hand over his ear. “The sirens—”

“They’ve stopped,” Momo finishes.

Sure enough, as the campground is overcome with an unsettling quiet, the sirens have fallen away. Neither one of us can tell if this means the threat has been taken care or something else entirely. We have less than a few hours of training under our belt, if you can call what the Seargeant put us through as training as much as it was torture.

“Oh, pooh.” Haru pokes out her bottom lip, a childish gesture. “No Gorgons for us, Brother.”

Hisoka twirls around in an odd gesture, swirling gravel an erratic path through the tent, towards the entryway. “We’ve adventures yet to come, Sister. Adventures I'm sure will provide us with a plethora of Gorgon-nasties to slay! To pluck apart like petals on a dying flower—”

Hisoka’s voice catches in his throat. The teen gargles, Adam’s apple bobbing, mouth widening as if he’s forgotten how to speak.

“B-Brother?” Haru tilts her head at him, questioningly.

The scream that bounds from Haru’s mouth a beat after rattles me to my bone marrow. “BROTHER!”

Hisoka’s shirtfront pools with the undeniable red that is blood. Hisoka’s blood. The twin, still grasping for words, swipes a shaky hand down his shirt then stares in horror his blood caked hand.

Haru is running to catch her brother as he face plants to the floor, her arms reaching for her twin whose eyes glaze over as he slips from this life to the next.

I intercept Haru, tackling her aside as a Gorgon hostile rips its viridian tentacle from Hisoka’s back, and bellows a war cry.

I’ve only ever seen a Gorgon in crude drawing with their heads removed from their bodies, or other variations where a Gorgon is mutilated in a way that shows how much humanity despises our Alien attackers. In pictures, Gorgon’s are drawn with too-large, soulless black eyes, vomit-green skin, lanky bodies, and snake-like tendrils on their heads. The Gorgon who stands before a shredded hole in our tent, is a bulky, green, bipedal monster with a masculine humanoid face whose features are far too human for my liking.

Sporting full body armor likened to iridescent plum-hued dragon scales, the Gorgon hovers about twenty-five centimeters off the ground. The beast says something in their tongue, a twisting, helter-skelter sound that sours my stomach; it’s a language that is ever-developing according to linguists who've failed numerous times at translating the beasts language.

The Sergeant's words roar in my head: “Do not hesitate!”

With Haru weeping on my chest, I raise my ray-gun point blank at the Gorgon’s head and fire. A flash of red bursts from my gun, sizzles in the air as it charges for the Alien. Quick as cat, the Gorgon tilts their head to one side, dodging my attempt at taking its life.

A dragon-scale helmet materializes over the Gorgon's face as its tendrils writhe free, whipping atop its head, snapping like stretched-out rubber bands. Suddenly, a tendril lashes at me, thrashing in the air like a leather belt. Melokuhle fires a string of shots at the Gorgon’s crazy hair, and blows its green frond to chunky bits that, unfortunately, splatter the tent walls and my face in Gorgon goo.

Momo roars like a lioness, her scream nearly bursting my eardrums as she lets loose multiple rounds that burn holes into the tent instead of the Gorgon.

The Alien does something all-too-human: cracks its knuckles and soars across the space right for Momo, five-fingered hands clawed.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Nobuyuki intercepts the Gorgon’s path with a double axe handle to the back of its exposed head. I’ve only watched wrestlers perform that move, and Nobuyuki pulled it off effectively.

Crashing to the ground, the Gorgon wails as it rolls around like a hamster in a ball while dodging a hail of bullets from Melokuhle and Momo who fire round after round. That is until the trigger-happy duo yip in pain as their ray-gun overheat, and both drop their guns to favor their flaming gun hand.

Nobuyuki is swift on his feet, meeting the Gorgon face to face and wrapping his arms around the Aliens midsection. The Gorgons hair rakes Nobuyuki’s back, shredding through shirt and skin as the big man flips the Alien over, tossing them like a pillow, up and over onto their backside into a bed of rocks.

Nobuyuki is trashed then by the Gorgon’s thick tresses, slashed and smacked around as he tries with all he is to block the being from landing a fatal blow.

“You MONSTER!” Haru snaps out of her stupor and lets her ray-gun deal out justice for her brother in a flurry of ray-gun shots.

Laying face up, motionless, the Gorgon stares unseeing in Momo’s direction, its eyes locked onto the red-head, its lips downturned, teeth bared.

We all sit in silence as two bodies—one human, one of Alien origin—lie a few meters from us. Haru creeps to her brother, her hands trembling as she touches gentle fingers to his bloodied face. I cannot even begin to imagine how she feels. I don’t want to either.

“I’m so sorry, Haru,” I choke out, knowing that my words won’t bring her much comfort.

Momo gaps. “L-Look.”

A glittering dome encapsulates the Gorgon’s dead body. And within seconds, the Gorgon’s form fades away in a flash of shimmering, tiny diamonds.