Everything about the scene was normal that night, as the sun set and the light in the suburban homes came on.
The sky still held an odd hue that turned the world into shades of navy blue and dark green.
Streetlights shone fatty yellow on the still damp and puddled streets.
There were crickets and the occasional car, but everything else was quiet. Until, somewhere in the distance a train wailed and rumbled on its way.
So it was that their approach went unnoticed.
First, long, transparent tendrils lowered from the inky black sky. They were white, with pinkish purple veins, like jellyfish arms.
They were very long, and completely silent. Then the bodies descended. Fat, shapeless blobs of softly glowing flesh. The tendril were touched down all across town. They lowered themselves onto streets and lawns and roofs…
No, they didn’t settle down. The settled in, like intangible ghostly squids sinking and floating almost invisibly into the homes.
Nobody resisted. Nobody had time. It was over before it started. In a few squishy moments they were inside of us, squeezing into our bodies like hermit crabs into a new shell.
There was no warning, no violent uprising, no rescue. They came all at once, seven billion sky squids sliding into our deepest selves.
Which brings us to now.
We can feel their minds like a pile of raw fish, their weight pressing us down into the deepest recesses of our unconscious. We cannot see, cannot move, cannot think clearly. We scream, but our mouths are full of slime.