White Spied Angel

Chapter 1.

The man walked through the quiet, dark store, his flashlight scanning through shelves, looking for anything of value. His black armor and uniform helped conceal him in the unlit store, his helmet long ago abandoned, too weak to offer him the protection he needed. The place was in disrepair, gunshots peppering multiple shelves, the man taking care to avoid bloodstains and product on the ground, lest he kick one and attract any of the creatures to him.

He thought about it again and he scoffed. What creatures? They were all fucking dead. It had been days since he'd seen or heard their calls. White Spikes, the military had called them. They had completely decimated the militaries of the world, their attack coming faster than anyone could react.

They had originated from Russia, appearing in some unknown area in 2048. Within three years the entire world had been decimated, countless cities ravaged by the intense fighting that had occurred to try to protect them.

Some cities had been wiped off the map in the fighting, the military sending in tactical nukes to destroy the White Spikes there, which numbered in the thousands, all of them swarming and eviscerating any defenders there.

They were superpredators, capable of breeding at an insanely fast rate. Their young grow to adults within months, making the creatures almost impossible to quell. The city he was in had been overrun in less than a day, many people caught by them during the hasty evacuation that had been ordered.

Last he heard before his city was overrun, the military was working to find a toxin to finally kill the females, the queens of the White Spikes. He sincerely hoped they had been able to find one. There was no saving this world, he knew it, everyone else knew it too.

There was a well defended oil rig that had been researching it, but it had gone dark two months ago, the man hearing no radio messages coming from it since. Smaller outposts scattered around talked to each other, and the rumor was it had been overrun by the White Spikes. No one had reported rescuing any survivors.

On that oil rig had also been their one saving grace. A teleporter, bringing forces in from 30 years in the past. Had they not developed that they would have all died long ago.

Maybe the station had been able to get the toxin back to that world in time. If they did then that world wouldn't suffer the same fate his had. He wondered if we would ever be able to recover here.

It would surely take decades, maybe even centuries, provided the White Spikes didn't somehow make a resurgence. He hoped the fuckers had all died of starvation. Their superpredator nature and fast reproduction meant that they had completely massacred and eaten everything that could be eaten, including humans, and even their own kind.

They did this until there was no more to eat, and then they either moved on, or they starved. There were several corpses of the creatures outside, the things gaunt and thin. It was like that all over the city, and they had come like that too.

He'd watched them show up two weeks ago, the aliens fighting for scraps of meals, sometimes killing each other in the process, and then eating their corpses too. Their calls had only lasted about a week, and now the city was deathly silent.

The man walked up to a shelf stocked full of canned goods, smiling bitterly at it. Normally in an apocalypse you would expect to have to fight and forage for food, sometimes even conserving it. Our apocalypse happened so fast no one had time to do anything but try to run.

There were half full carts all over the place, several tipped over in the panic that had happened here. The city had fallen about a year ago, literal waves of White Spikes charging toward the city, so packed in together that the ground could not even be seen.

The air force had thinned them out considerably, but the attacking horde was endless. His squad had been wiped out, him being the only survivor. Him and a few other civilians had retreated into the sewers of the city, the sewage thankfully masking their scent and the smell of their blood.

The calls for support had been numerous for about 20 minutes, and then they were replaced with calls to retreat. Him and the civilians had quietly listened to his radio go off for a while, and after two hours a radio message coming from command had come through, saying the city had been overrun.

Civilian casualties had been at 90%, barely anyone had made it out of the city in time.

A year later, he seemed to be the only one left alive.

He pulled his pack off his back, letting his rifle hang off its sling as he stuffed cans into it. He shined his flashlight on one of them, seeing the word, "SPAM," written over it. Wasn't the most tasty meal, but it would have to do.

When his pack was a bit over half full, and a massive strain on his shoulders, he turned and made his way over to where he thought there would be water. Sure enough, a minute of walking later he found an aisle full of nothing but bottled water. He silently questioned the quality of it, considering it had been sitting for a year, but it was not like he was going to find water anywhere else.

Bombing runs had destroyed a lot of infrastructure in the city. Power, water, pretty much everything had been knocked out.

He pulled his canteen out of its holder, peeling a water bottle out of the closest pack, pouring it into the canteen. He threw it to the ground when it was empty, pulling a 2nd bottle out. The 2nd one filled his canteen up, and he put it back in its holder.

He slid his pack back off his shoulders, grabbing a bunch of bottles and putting them on top of all the cans of food. When his pack was completely full he hefted it up, groaning as his shoulders screamed from the weight now placed on him.

Now to begin the slow trek back, then up five flights of stairs to his room he had chosen in an apartment.

He lifted his rifle up, turning on the mounted flashlight, aiming it down each aisle he passed. He aimed it across the support beams above him, along the roof, knowing just how nimble the creatures were.

His eyes were scanning everything as he walked, and his ears were focusing on even the quietest noise, only hearing his boots moving along the tile floor.

A shrill, pained screech filled the air, the man's eyes widening as he crouched down, aiming his rifle at the entrance ahead of him. He recognized that screech, although it sounded much more strained than usual.

He stayed there for a minute, hearing several weak, high pitched screeches coming from where the first one had come from. He hadn't heard anything like it before, and after several seconds of listening to it he slowly got up, his eyes wide as he breathed heavily, his fingers gripping his rifle tightly.

He quietly made his way to the entrance, the screeches growing louder the closer he got, and when he was finally at the entrance he pressed himself against the wall, the destroyed glass doors lying scattered around.

He slowly peeked out to his left, where the screeches were coming from, seeing a female White Spike lying still in the street. It hadn't been there earlier. He looked around the entire area, trying to see any movement, but all he saw were the decrepit corpses of other White Spikes.

He turned back to the female White Spike, his heart pounding as he aimed his rifle at it, appearing from behind the entrance. The creature was facing away from him, still not moving. He moved along the left side of the street, the man seeing movement on the left side of the creature as he got closer.

He crouched down behind a car directly next to the creature, breathing heavily as he steeled himself. He took in a few quick breaths, then he jumped up, aiming his rifle at the creature's face.

In front of him was a baby White Spike, the creature uttering out desperate cries as it tried to push its insubstantial weight against its mother's face. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he lowered his rifle a bit as he stared at the tiny creature. It was about the size of a house cat, still looking the same as a regular White Spike, but insanely tiny.

He saw the mother's eyes shift a bit, and he raised his rifle back up at the creature, seeing it slowly turn its head, trying to look at him. It made a low hiss, but did not move any further. The baby reacted to its mother's movements though, turning to look back at what its mother was looking at.

Upon spotting the man it went into as threatening a posture as it could manage, hissing defiantly at the man. The creature was far too small to be threatening though, in fact it was almost cute, like a newborn kitten squaring up to a person.

He slowly moved closer to the White Spike, switching his left hand to the underbarrel shotgun he had attached to his rifle. It looked at him as he moved closer, but it seemed to be struggling to even stay awake. Its eyes were half lidded, and when he was just a few feet away it exhaled.

The baby turned back around, no longer caring about the human, instead focusing on its mother, thrusting itself against her face, her eyes growing weaker and weaker. The baby started screeching louder now, trying to get its mother to open its eyes, but gradually they closed, the man slowly lowering his weapon, watching as the White Spike sat there for a few more seconds, and then its body slumped.

He watched as the baby White Spike just stood there for a few seconds, and then it made a long, drawn out screech, similar to the one the adult had made earlier. It turned around to look at the man, before slumping to the ground too.

He took a staggered step back, not really knowing how to approach the situation. As he examined the baby, he realized it was also a female White Spike. Should he gun it down, or let it sit here and die with its mother?

It let out a quiet whimper, and it looked up at him, staring at him. He didn't know why, but as the completely helpless creature stared up at him he started to feel a sense of pity for it. He'd seen what these creatures had done, he knew what this one here would become, but even still, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the creature.

He considered for a few seconds, and then he reached behind him, opening a pocket on his pack. The creature tilted its head as it stared at him, watching him pulling out a can of Spam.

"Don't know why the hell I'm doing this, hopefully it doesn't bite me in the ass later." He peeled back the lid of the can, the creature immediately starting to sniff the air. He took a step closer to it, warily looking at its mother, even though he was pretty sure it was dead.

The baby stood up, clearly nervous, looking around the area as the man got closer to him. It let out a low hiss as he got closer, and when he was within a foot of it he kneeled down, the creature pressing itself to the ground, staring up at him as he extended his hand out.

He set the can down in front of the White Spike, the creature looking between him and the can repeatedly. He backed away from it, and he watched as it took a step to the can, looking back up at him for several seconds before it tilted its head down, thrusting its entire face into the can.

He chuckled as he looked at it, and then he turned, making his way back to his apartment. He heard a screech come from behind him, and he turned, seeing the creature was staring at him again. It looked at him for several seconds, tilting its head, and the man found himself wondering what it was thinking.

These creatures were intensely pack based, and its only companion was now dead. It probably had no idea what it was even supposed to do. Would it try to find other White Spikes? Or would it just sit next to its mother until it died?

He figured the latter was more likely to happen. The creature was just too small to have any hope of surviving. He'd probably come back tomorrow, and see it had died during the night. He turned around, not looking back at the White Spike, silently hoping he was right.

As he walked he thought more about the creatures. They were insanely smart, but just how smart were they? He'd personally witnessed them strategize, he'd seen White Spikes direct others to do flanking maneuvers. He'd witnessed them set ambushes on civilians and other soldiers, and they were insanely deadly in both close and long range combat.

They knew to take cover when they were being fired on, and could even return fire with their tentacles that shot high velocity spikes out, capable of ripping through helmets and body armor with ease.

It scared him to know that these weren't mindless beasts they had been fighting. They didn't know how smart they actually were, the scientists just didn't have time to test that side of them. The only thing they'd been focused on was how to kill them.

The way the baby White Spike had peered up at him too... He sincerely hoped he hadn't made a mistake by doing that.

He walked along, his pack weighing him down, the man constantly scanning the buildings for any White Spikes that might be waiting to ambush him. He was on alert now, the female White Spike putting him on edge.

Had it gotten his scent it might very well have been waiting for him to leave the store. He was very unlikely to get a second chance if another one snuck up on him. He made it about 100 meters from the spot where the female White Spike had been, and just as he reached a bend where he was supposed to turn he decided to look back. He lifted up a pair of binoculars hanging on his vest, looking to see the baby White Spike. His heart jumped when he saw it was no longer there. He scanned around the area, but could not spot the creature. He slowly lowered the binoculars, looking around for a few more seconds before he turned around.

He scooted up to a building on his left side, peeking out behind the corner to look into the street he needed to go down. All he could see were the corpses of other Spikes, the remains of burnt out cars, and the countless blood stains and explosions that had torn up the pavement.

He quickly made his way out from behind cover, his apartment building just across the street from him. He made his way between two vehicles, stopping between them to look around for a few seconds, and then he moved again.

He kept his rifle trained on the street ahead of him until he made his way to the entrance of the apartment building, walking through the destroyed glass doors. He looked around the area, seeing it was still the same as it had been when he'd left.

He glanced over at the reception desk, seeing spikes sticking out of the wood, several more embedded into the wall behind it, and he could see a blood stain on the wall where the spikes were.

He then looked over to where two elevators were at, seeing both of them were sitting there, completely open. The lifts were almost completely covered in blood, he could only imagine the carnage that had happened here.

This apartment building had been packed when the evacuation order had come through. The elevators had been crammed full with people trying to escape, and for several poor souls that long, cramped elevator ride down was their last couple of seconds alive.

He made his way over to the stairs, glancing down at the stained blood that had pooled into the carpet. Many people had also tried using the stairs to escape, and sadly several of them also met their end in the stairwells.

Power was out, so using the elevators was out of the question, not that he would have used them anyway. He had no control in one of those things, he could be ambushed at any time inside it, and he found it uncomfortable, knowing he would have been standing in an enclosed area where dozens of people had been brutally killed.

He heard a piece of glass crunch on the ground behind him and he turned around, aiming his rifle at the entrance. He stood there completely still, his breathing ceasing as he focused solely on listening for anything.

He slowly backed up, keeping his rifle aimed at the entrance as he moved into the stairwell. He was glad the door was still attached to the frame, and he quickly closed it in front of him, making sure to lock it.

If anything tried to get through, he would hear it. He kept his rifle trained on the door as he moved up the first flight of stairs, finally lowering his weapon when he no longer had a view of the door.

He made it up the second flight, his breathing starting to grow heavy now, the weight of his pack digging into his shoulders. It made him think of his time during school, having to lug around a backpack full of school books, homework, and even a freaking computer.

He wished his pack was as light as those school backpacks had been.

When he made it up the third flight of stairs he froze, listening intently. Down below he could hear the handle of the door turning. The door wasn't being broken down, whatever was down there was trying to open it, but the lock was stopping it.

Perhaps it could have been a human? If it was, why were they silent? He moved over to the edge, aiming his rifle down it, turning his flashlight on, seeing nothing moving. Just when he was starting to relax a bit he heard the glass shatter. His eyes widened and he moved his finger to the trigger, waiting to see something run out.

Nothing did though. There were no further sounds, nothing at all. He was on edge now, and he quickly started moving up the stairs, making sure to look all around the stairs below him. After an adrenaline filled minute that felt like it was way longer than it actually was he finally got up to the 5th floor.

There was no door here covering the entrance, so he would not know if anything was coming up. He hovered at the doorway for several seconds, listening, but once again hearing nothing. After standing there for a minute he started backing up, turning left out of the doorway, making his way to his room, which was thankfully close by.

He hadn't chosen this floor because he liked the number 5. No, he'd chosen this floor and this room because it was the first damn room he'd happened across that was in decent shape. 5 damn floors it had taken for him to find a room that didn't have gunshots, blood, or just general damage from the fighting.

He would have much rather preferred a room on the 1st floor, would be easier to escape if he had to, but this was the only room he'd found that was able to be lived in. His room was just 10 meters away from the entrance to the stairwell, and he quickly turned from it, his ears focusing on the stairwell as he hurriedly pulled the key out, sliding it into the lock.

He opened the door, pushing it open, and when he looked over to the stairwell entrance his heart jumped. There, poking its head out just past the frame, was the baby White Spike. It let out a surprised screech when he looked at it, the creature pulling away from view, the man now hearing it moving.

Its claws scuttled on the stairs as he heard it run, the man's heart pounding as he looked at where it had just been. It had been following him the entire time. And now it knew what room he was in too.

He finally let his rifle go, the man relaxing as he now knew there was no threat. He groaned, finally making his way into his apartment, closing the door behind him. He locked the door, then grabbed a chair sitting nearby, pulling it up and propping it up against the door handle.

"Fucking hell..." He didn't like that Spike knowing where he was, he also didn't like that it had been following him the entire time. It was small enough right now that he could punt it like a football if he wanted to, but what would happen when it got bigger?

They grew insanely fast, well, the males did anyway. Scientists had estimated they grew to adults within three months, but was that number the same for the females? It seemed friendly right now, more terrified than anything, but who knew what would happen when it was fully grown.