The Octopuses.

By Aidan, 6^th Grade

   The radio crackled to life, the harsh noise grabbing the attention of the array of people gathered there.  “Houston, can you hear me, Houston?” the voice was interrupted by a large bang and the following interlude of static.  “- real trouble here.  The airlock’s been breached, the outer ring is gone, and-“There was another bang, this one much louder than the last, and then there was silence, interrupted by short bursts of static.  “Somebody turn on the blasted video feed!” a voice cried out.  A few hurried commands were shouted, and the wall in wall to which all the neat orderly desks were facing sprang to life.  At first there was simply empty space, and then the camera turned to face were a space station had been only minutes before.  All that was left was a floating pile of discolored steel.  Farther off, beyond the scrap, there were three large, green ships, which resembled a human heart more than anything.  Suddenly, a ship’s side burst open, and a swarm of small, seed-like pods started to fall to Earth.  The people inside, those not captivated by the strange phenomenon going on, ran outside, to stare up at the sky, in which those pods were hovering.  One hit the ground a mile away, and dust spread out in rings, to sweep over the flat, dry, deserted land.  “Wh- What is th-that thing?” a nervous man stuttered.

“I… have no idea whatsoever” sad a man in a dark, navy blue suit on.  They started to scrabble towards the pod, when two long tentacles with a round bulb at the end popped out of the top.  They sat still for a moment, staring in fascination at the bulbs.  Then, they started forward again, keeping their eyes on the bulbs.  Suddenly, the pod convulsed, and the bulbs began to split open, and a light green, viscous liquid started to spill out.  The pod convulsed again, and small globs of green began to tumble out.  The party stopped in their tracks, shocked by this disgusting expulsion of liquid.  As suddenly as it had started, the flow of liquid stopped.  The party started forward once again, warier than ever.  Then, the pools of gunk began to convulse.  The spherical chunks began to inch forward, gradually rising upward as they did so.  After they had dragged themselves out of the pool, the party members could see that they were octopuses.  Small, basketball-sized octopuses.  A man picked up one, and holding it high in the air, began to poke and prod it.  The octopus began to twist around, wobbling to and fro.  It flipped up, latching onto his arm, and the man began to scream.  He screamed and screamed, his face a mask of pain, his voice making the octopuses quiver and scoot backwards, back towards the goop.  Back in the building, the men they had contacted the air force, and a large plane was speeding skyward, towards the strange ships.  As it reached the barrier between the earth and space, the plane launched three missiles, one for each ship.  Back on Earth, a loud rapping noise sounded on the doors.  One man stalked over and opened the door.  He leapt back, because a skeleton and tens of small octopuses tumbled in.  A few minutes later, the radio opened up.  A horse voice shouted from the speakers, “We did it! Those vile ships are no more!  Do you hear me… is anyone there?”  silence resounded, the only noise in the room was a single octopus, bouncing up and down on a bloodstained computer.