The Skittering by Stephen Herczeg

Insects. After decades of Hollywood telling us that aliens were little green men, they finally arrived. And they were insects. Bigger than rhinos. Tougher than cockroaches. And hungry.

The first wave hit New York. Ripping apart people like they were dolls. We deployed within hours. Thousands swarmed the streets; the sound of skittering feet was everywhere. Filling my mind.

Regular bullets were no good, only armour piercing rounds.

Suddenly, the skittering stopped. They disappeared. Leaving only silence.

And waiting. For hours.

Then the skittering started again.

I see one. Fire. Nothing.

The bullets don’t work. They’ve changed.

God save us.