The beach had become a place where hope and fear fought for control.
Hundreds of monsters stood in the shallow surf and on the wet sand, goblins with yellow eyes and crooked teeth, tall horned beasts with cracked skin, flying creatures circling overhead with bat wings and spiked tails, snake-like things slithering forward. Their weapons glinted under the moon: rusty swords, spiked clubs, long spears, hooked chains. The air smelled of saltwater, blood, and something sour and rotten.
The crowd had backed up so far they were pressed against the dunes and the first row of villas. Some people were crying quietly. Others stood frozen, hands over mouths, staring at the army that had just walked out of the sea. Phones were still up, but hands shook clung to their partners. A woman hugged her man so tight he started to cry.
A flying monster with long wings and a barbed tail hovered above the front line. It looked down at me, red eyes glowing, and laughed.
