March 5, 2089
Fire. Destruction. That’s all that she could get from the breaking news story on the TV. A new species. Dangerous.
“This is Andrea Martin, here in New York City with Mr. Somerset from a small branch of the CDC,” the reporter said. “Can you tell us what is happening here, Paul?”
“Well,” replied the middle aged man. “I suppose the secret is out now. Recently, the government started working on creating a new species--one close to mythical dragons--as weapons in war.
“These creatures are lizard-like and all dangerous. There were three different subspecies: small ones which are close in size to a chipmunk, ones sized to about ten feet in height, which are more ‘wyvern-like’ than the others, along with very large creatures that could be taller than an oak tree and weigh more than a whale. These are the most dangerous.”
“Yes, and only hours ago these creatures escaped from the enclosure, correct?” the reporter asked and Mr. Somerset nodded.
“Correct. I’d advise for anyone in the New England area to go to your war shelters immediately. These creatures will destroy every--” Suddenly, a large flying beast careened toward the two, just as the camera cut off. The woman watching screamed, leaped from the couch, and clutched the TV.
Her heart rate jumped. A loud boom had sounded through the house. She stood up and rushed through the hall at the sound of her child wailing. She quickly opened the door to her daughters’ room, where her oldest was clutching her baby half sister.
“Mom?” she asked. The baby was still crying, and the small girl screamed as another crash shook the building.
“Come on, Eliza,” she commanded and led her to their war shelter. Eliza scurried through the hatch in the floor, into the basement-like war shelter. The mother hurriedly picked up her child and closed the hatch door behind her. The baby continued to cry.
“Hush, Ember, shhh,” she crooned. Ember calmed down a bit, then bawled louder. The girls jumped when a roar and a crash caused concrete to rain from the ceiling.
“Mommy…” the little girl blubbered. “Mommy, what’s happening?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. Something bad.”
Ember’s cry could barely be heard over the monster’s deafening roar.