It came from above.

Not with a blinding flash or in a blaze, but tearing out of the clouds with a thunderous roar, rumbling like the engines of a large chainsaw. The sound grew louder the closer the ship got. Its wing scraped against a few buildings, consequently destroying them as it broke off a few of the top floors. It hovered above the city, looking as large as three football pitches. It blocked out the sun, throwing the areas beneath it into darkness. Its wings were like that of a swift bird if the tips of its wings were elongated, almost touching, and a few meters thick. At the centre was a spheroid with roughened outlook. It rolled at breakneck speed, which probably was what generated the awful hum that shook through the air.

From where he stood underneath the domineering structure, Mathew could see strange creatures that dropped down from the ship like marines off a helicopter. They were lean, body structure almost human, their heads oblong but faces covered by a clear, reflective material. A shock wave hit, the floor beneath him trembling, screams tearing into the air as one of the creatures screeched behind its mask.

Mathew began to run, zipping his phone into the pocket of his trousers. He breezed past other people scampering to get away, pushing a few who got in his way as he tried to put some distance between him and the creatures. It was hard to formulate a plan when fear pounded adrenaline into him and sent his heart into a chaotic rhythm and his brain on the fritz.

The ground beneath him trembled, and he heard an explosion before a strong wind slammed into him from behind, knocking him off his feet. He crashed against a pole, it clipped his left leg. He howled in pain as his knee stung from the hit. Falling into a pile of plastic bags on the side of the street, he rolled to his stomach and pushed to his feet, limping away on his good leg, not ready to be caught or killed. There were tens of the lean monsters still pouring out, some of the scaling buildings and breaking in through the glass. The best option was to get into a car.

Looking around, he tried to stay on his feet as he was pushed and bumped into by other people running scared. With his injured leg, there would be little force needed to knock him over. He needed to think fast, or his body would be among the piles of bodies dropping behind him.

He ran until he spotted a car with a body thrown through the windshield, its leg still hanging on the boot of the car. Not seeing anything behind him, he held back the urge to vomit as he dragged himself over the body that lay battered in the backseat. Mathew grunted, dragging his leg with his hands to minimize the strain and reached underneath the steering wheel and broke through the compartment holding the wires.

Fearfully glancing over his shoulder, he hysterically began to work on the wires, internally thanking his younger brother for teaching him a talent he always joked would never be useful. He found the wires he needed and began to strip them, his ears roaring still as he kept looking over his shoulder, trying to tune out the horrific screams that filled the street. The car revved once, and again, and Mathew grinned, moving his hands over the wheel just before another wind blasted through the street, and he was once again, flipped into the air.

Mathew pressed back into the chair, grabbing the seat belt and tugging it around his chest while the body in the back bounced around until it fell out the window it was thrown through. Mathew could only scream as the car rolled over, crashing into another car, a sedan from what he could see, and his head slammed into the window, cracked it from the impact. Blood began to ooze from a cut above his left eye as the door fell open against his weight.

He needed to move, he knew he did, even as his eyes glazed over and weariness began to crawl into his bones. If he stayed where he was, he was going to die. If another wave hit and he was still in that car, he would die. So, he dropped, groaning as he back hit the floor and struggled to his feet. Another weight crashed into him before he could even limp a few meters away from the car. It rolled with him to the ground until it was on top, pinning him to the road with a spiny knee. Any more pressure and Mathew feared it could break a bone.

Mathew tried to fight. He clawed on the road until he found a piece of debris, and with his remaining strength, he hauled it hard at the creature's head. It did not even budge, as the piece of metal slammed against its head. The helmet didn't dent or break, but the metal bent. As fast as lightning, it wrapped its lean fingers around the wrist of his raised hand, and Mathew heard a crack before pain broke through him, and he screamed in pain.

As the creature hunkered over him, mask so clean, Mathew could see his face in place of it. Panic flashed in his eyes as the monster lowered itself ever so gently towards him until his nose touched its mask. It lifted its scrawny arms, Mathew barely had a second to process the movement before it dropped hard on his left leg. A hot flash of pain tore through him as the jagged knife tore through muscle and split bone.

Mathew screamed, thrashing against the cold floor, the pain jolting him awake and into the arms of his panicked younger brother, Vince. Vince bound his arm around Mathew, holding him as he continued to trash around, unable to differentiate between dream and reality.

"Matt, man, calm down. You are here, it's a bad dream. I am here."

He looked out the window to see it was dark, the moon out in the night sky. A few cars flew by their windows, but the sound suppressor was on, and he couldn't hear their engines. There was no trace of a ship. His chest heaved, lungs sucking in all the air in the room. The dream began to fade, and his senses started tunning into his surroundings.

The night terrors began a few years back. He was attacked after an accident that left his left leg with severe nerve and muscle damage. He had done everything to make them stop. He started therapy, avoided flying cars because the sound of their engines triggered them, lived in a soundproof apartment. Nothing seemed to work.

It only grew worse with each day. It was the 500th night in a row that he had woken up screaming in his apartment. Once again, he was held down on the floor in his brother's arms. They watched the night from his ceiling to floor window as he willed his mind into reality. Vince continued to speak, directing him on how to breathe and encouraging him to relax, but half his mind was still in the dream. The sound of the engines roaring in his ears and the screams ringing in his head.