Chapter 1
The silence is overwhelming. They can both feel it in the grocery store’s morose air. The doctor clutches tighter onto her shopping cart and squeakily wheels it down the breakfast aisle in short awkward strides. Yellow lights that illuminate this store flicker perpetually resulting in an uncomfortable, gloomy environment. There is not a single soul Ms. Duckman can see as she wheels her cart, but she knows she is not the only one here. She can feel it deep in her chest, the way her heart is beating- much too violently. And right she is, Ms. Duckman, because just on the opposite side of this store, a slender pencil-like woman pulls a wooly black mask over her face. She tries to distract herself from the intolerableness this itchy, black-wool mask is causing her bald scalp by checking her watch. Faint squeaks from the doctor’s shopping cart echo and break what silence had pervaded the store. The slender woman suddenly becomes alert as she is aware of another presence lurking around her. The thought of someone nabbing the milk can before her would question her very existence.
When she was made, she had learned the monsters were bad. She learned that they killed and tortured, which is why we had killed them. Not her, in specific, but those who had made her. But before killing off the whole species of monsters, one had surreptitiously made a liquid that could allow the species to repopulate. The liquid was said to be held in a milk can- a milk can in this very store.
She jumps over one of the isles in a swift Ninja-like motion making no more than the sound of whooshing air. To her right, the echo of a shopping cart’s unoiled wheels becomes clearer. Her suspicions have been confirmed.
“Ms. Duckman.” Her muffled dull voice darkens the doctor’s face. She has jumped isle over isle to find her owner, the doctor who made her, about to grab the milk can.
“N.I.N.J.A, how good to see you,” the doctor shakes as she speaks. Guilty beads of sweat form at her brows getting larger and larger until one decides to slowly trickle down her left cheek.
“I suspected your presence.”
“Oh, uh, th-thats nice.” The doctor reaches into her handbag and pulls out a handkerchief to blot the top of her forehead.
“I could smell your sick alien-like scent the moment I arrived. You know, with the nose you made for me to sniff out the monsters. Monsters like myself.”
“Now N.I.N.J.A, you know that what I did was just the best for you, ri-”
“No you don't!” The pencil-like woman cuts in, “You are the monsters! You invaded our planet! You seized control of our bodies and brainwashed us into mindless robot-soldiers! Then you made us sniff out our own kind and turn them into you! But I remembered, I haven’t forgotten the day your spaceships landed here. I still remember how you injected my sister’s arm with the syringe, but I was quicker than you. I knew what you were planning to do so I emptied the syringe lying next to me and filled it with water before any of you monsters noticed. Its time for you to step down, Ms. Duckman.” The pencil-like woman breathes heavily, pain and anger wash through her eyes.
Ms. Duckman senses it and reaches in her bag once more, but not to take out her handkerchief. “Enough of your nonsense!” She screams and pulls out a black taser gun. As if in slow motion, the woman also referred to as ‘N.I.N.J.A’ jumps to her left side just in time to escape the taser’s electrifying tongues.
“Running won’t help at all Ms. Duckman!” N.I.N.J.A adds with a slight laugh, “I’ve learned from experience.” Then she lunges forward, landing over the sweaty lady.
“Get off me you robot!” Ms. Duckman struggles, but it is no use. N.I.N.J.A’s modified body is much too heavy for Ms. Duckman to push off.
N.I.N.J.A pulls a large needle out of her sleek, pant pockets. They have been filled almost full to the brim, with a mysterious blue-liquid. But the liquid is no surprise to either of these two, as N.I.N.J.A forces the needle into Ms. Duckman’s wrist, the doctor’s eyes widen in alarm. She has seen this liquid before.
