I’ve never been one to believe in aliens. I go to church every Sunday, when I’m on the mainland, and I go pray in the small chapel right over the hill, or what was a hill until last night, every Sunday that I am on this island. Sometimes I go even if it’s not Sunday, when I need some extra peace of mind. Yes, it’s tough being out here with only one other lad. The lighthouse isn’t for everyone, you need something to keep your sanity. But enough about myself. Let me tell you what happened last night. 

It was a gloomy day — the same weather we have on this uncanny island just about every day. We were going about our daily chores as the night was drawing nearer. I was up at the highest level, in the lantern room, switching on the blinding light and assuring its proper animation; turning about itself on the giant swivel it rests on. Nothing unusual. Burt, the young lad, was down in the living quarters jumping between paperwork, checking off and reporting anything noteworthy from the day, and cooking our dinner. It was a beef stew containing green beans, chopped carrots, and some corn, with bread we would have shared. It should still be on the stove since we were never able to eat the thing. The night escalated quickly from there. 

I was about to leave the lantern room when a dim red light in the sky was getting ever nearer at, what I would define as, neck breaking speed. It crashed into the hill I mentioned right in front of our small chapel which, thank God, was unharmed. But the device severed the hill and replaced it with a crater capable of hiding a quarter of this light house. The impact shook everything. I bet a day’s worth of pay it shook the island all the way down to the pits of the ocean. It sprayed moist dirt all over the light house and living quarters. 

I flicked the lantern off and peered out of the windows, surveying the island through the small holes that were absent of soil, but all I could make out was a glare of red, like a flashing light. Burt ran up the stairs and shot through the lantern room’s door. 

“Did you hear that? Did you feel that?” he asked, breathless and losing his composure. “We need to go out there and see what it is!” 

“Calm down, lad. Keep yourself together,” I demanded, flicking the lantern back on and leading us down stairs. “Grab that fire iron and a flashlight from the drawer.” I grabbed a much larger spotlight, though they don’t last nearly as long, I figured we could at least get a good look at whatever caused so much destruction. 

As we walked out the back door, I grabbed a shovel with a spaded head that was propped up against the door frame. We walked out as quietly as we could, closing the door gently behind us, and stepped into a world that smelled of fresh soil and humidity. 

It was like there was a blanket of fog covering our eyes. Flashlight or not, we could only see about six feet ahead. There was a red glare spreading in the distance which led us directly on the path we needed to take. The ground below our feet was too soft to get a good grip if we needed to run for our lives, and the closer we got, the softer it became. 

Once we arrived at the crater and we turned on our flashlights, the device became very apparent. It looked just like all the pictures from newspapers that have been passed around as a hoax. An alien saucer. It had a diameter of around ten feet, I would say — recalling the sight now — with a red lightbulb that seemed to be welded onto its side giving off the glare I’d been seeing from the lantern room. 

But the saucer was lodged into the earth diagonally, allowing me to see the underbelly of the spaceship. It had a sort of pattern that dimmed in and out, like writing or hieroglyphic symbols. It was damaged and losing power from the crash landing, sending sparks onto its earthly grave. The top center of the saucer was a glass capsule, coated in a blackish green tint, which I later found out was the control room. 

We stood and watched the spacecraft, speechless, as if it were functioning in complimentary fashion, until Burt tried to get a better view. The soft dirt gave in at the edge of the crater, causing him to slip in and thump the metal disc. He threw himself back, lifting the fire iron to his chest trying to protect himself from the creature that he now heard stirring inside. 

“I hear a lot of clicking and fumbling inside there!” He cried out to me from below.

“You need to try to—“ I couldn’t finish the words, and I wish a would have. The glass capsule slid back into the machine, like the roof of a convertible, and revealed the shape of a man-sized octopus which sat on a red chair that swiveled about the small control room. All sorts of buttons, screens, and levers were laid across the control panel that circled around the tight room. It was no doubt a one-man spaceship — for one grotesque creature that squirmed its way to the edge of the ship. 

It had large red watery eyes, the size of footballs, and the texture of egg yolks. Its skin was like gray glossy leather and smelled of potent chemicals — probably something they covered themselves in to travel lightyears. Five tentacles were attached to the bottom of its egg-shaped body. Just the sight of it was enough to make you lose your balance.

It peered down at Burt, causing him to freak out. He couldn’t control himself long enough to see if the alien would be aggressive. He struck it with the fire iron. 

No mark or scratch was left on the surface of the vile skin, but the invader didn’t tolerate any form of aggression. It grabbed him, wrapping one of its tentacles around his torso, and flung him into the air so high I lost sight of him for a few seconds until he came crashing into the ground. I heard a pop as I saw his neck bend back. 

He was dead.

I stumbled backwards, finding it hard to stay on my feet. I didn’t know what was worse, young Burt’s broken body lying a few feet away or the giant alien octopus who was now looking at me. I hauled myself back, filling my jeans with dirt in the process, until the alien and his spaceship were out of sight. Jumping to my feet, I raced back to the lighthouse, leaving my shovel behind, intending to search the drawers for a handgun we kept in case of emergencies. 

I looked over my shoulder to ensure the beast wasn’t chasing me and caught a glimpse of it pulling the saucer out of its trapped state. It wrapped all of its tentacles around the ship, spreading them out evenly, lifted, and tossed the ship to the top of the crater like a frisbee. The incredible power it must have had being able to lift a metal ship with such ease. It looked back at me — probably to make sure I wouldn’t attack it like my companion — and turned back around in a hurry. 

I rushed through the door, grabbed the pistol from the first drawer in the kitchen, and stood at the doorway; Pistol loaded and waiting for it to attack. But to my amazement, it didn’t. 

It scurried its large body across the ground, slithering its tentacles in the dirt as it pressed buttons and pulled levers. It tilted the ship on its side and touched the glowing patterned surface with a flat tool — one which I’d never seen before. It seemed to be a repairing device — any spot it passed over would regain its illumination and its low unsettling sound. 

Once it finished with the bottom surface, it lowered the saucer back down, pressed a button on the dashboard and the ship began to hover, recovering its proper functionality. As the ship levitated in a static pose it gave off a quiet, almost imperceptible, sound of humming. 

The alien turned and wobbled in my direction. It dragged its thick tentacles through the dirt, like struggling earth worms, and stopped about thirty yards away. 

We stood in silence, staring and waiting for the other to make a move. I clenched my pistol in my sweaty shaky hands praying to God I wouldn’t need to use it. 

I felt unsettled, like a school of fish were swimming in tandem inside of me. I knew it was just because of the unknown. Because an alien beast crash landed on my island and killed a friend, but I couldn’t sense its hostility. Just my own fear.

I lowered my firearm. As scared as I was doing it, I lowered the gun and hoped the alien would interpret that as a sign of peace. It observed me with its red eyes that moved in quick jolts, in every direction, studying my body language. It turned around towards its ship, looked at Burt’s mangled body and back at me as if giving a quick apology before it took off towards its home planet. 

As it boarded its ship, I walked closer and watched it push a combination of buttons. The alien watched me as its tinted glass capsule slid to a close, protecting it from the outside. 

The ship elevated higher and higher. I watched from below, getting a better view of the patterns that I believe made up an anti-gravity plate they use to shoot around with incredible speed and relatively no sound. The ship hovered in place for a few seconds and then shot off into space.

I looked around, scanning the destruction filled island. The light house was barely visible behind the thick layer of soil that still covered it. Thin beams of light escaped through small holes that were opened by sliding dirt. I looked over at Burt’s body, scrunched up and filled with broken bones. 

A helicopter flew overhead. Then another and another. Soon, the island was filled with military helicopters. Troops in black tactical uniforms burst out from the sides and two men in suits followed. They walked towards me. I looked at the crater and back up at the stars one last time.

R. Hernandez Resides in Florida. He has been a fan of monster horror from a young age and is currently working through law school.