Everyone remembers when the first bomb drops. When the first invasion hits the shore.

When the first barrier breaks.

I doubt half the world even remembered monsters were buried under that mountain, let alone the idea of them ever coming back to the surface. Humans were so busy blowing ourselves up that the thought of being at war with anything else probably didn't come to anyone's mind.

We all heard that barrier break that day; it shattered like glass and the sudden piercing crackle before it gave way was heard for miles around. I remember nearly dropping my glass at The Tap down on Harvard Street, while my buddy Gary turned away from the girl he was warming up to. The first loud CRUNCH echoed through the tight streets of the city and our eyes turned to the shadow on the horizon that cut through the orange sky like a thick blade. 

Two weeks later, I was walking in a tight line with hundreds of other men and women called to serve their humankind and protect our way of life. I stood next to Roger- a man who everyone would later refer to as "Stone"- and listened to an older man tell us that we had been called to do a great, and noble service. 

I became Private Jacobs, of the Royal Military Ground Troops. With the call of my birthday, my name was traded for a number.

"Each of you owe me fifty pounds of hot dust, soldiers!" The Petty Officer shouted through the barracks. "You will not hear from home, write home- hell E.T. no-go-home, until you give me those fifty pounds in a bucket!"

So we did. A lot of my comrades told me the feeling would go away after my first kills. That, over time, it's just like killing pests on your front lawn. It never changed for me.

I still think about the families I tore apart through warfare. So many, that I earned a special task by my First Sergeant Winton to carry out in the heart of 'no man's land'.

Thirty days was all I had to report to each of the five bases in the Old City, deliver the new orders, and retreat back to the other side of the mountain. Complete this mission, and save humanity.

I trudged through the first mile of rubble before hitting Old City, when I heard tin cans and paper shuffling to my left. I raised my gun and walked in that direction, being as quiet as possible, and watching vigilantly for any movement.

I hadn't met a single monster that wasn't out to kill humans, so I was prepared for anything- be it finned, clawed, or flamed- to jump out of the shadows. The sudden whimper that I heard instead threw me off my guard. 

"Hey, is that a kid?" I spoke aloud to myself before lowering my weapon. "Hey, who's out there?"

Slowly, a child in a striped shirt slowly emerged. His clothes were horribly tattered, and he had a cut on his left cheek. His lips trembled and tears stained his face as he shivered in the bright sunlight peeking through the concrete jungle.

"Please, don't hurt me."

"I won't lay a finger on you." I thought I was lying to him when he finally stepped out into the light, but after hearing his voice and seeing his broken expression I knew I really couldn't hurt him. I dropped my gun to the side and knelt down  in front of him, raising my hands to ensure there was no danger. This kid had changed my view on the war. He proved to me that the 'kill or be killed' lifestyle we had been promised on the battlefield was a lie.

My view of monsters was changed by a monster.