Skyfall

I was cleaning the North corridor when I heard the explosion. I hesitated for a second, but my curiosity won out and I ran towards the sound.

The worst was the silence that followed. No painful screams or anything. Not that I wanted to hear. It was possible an experiment had gone awry, and my heart sped up. I took a turn to enter the East side, when I collided with someone. I landed on my butt and the mop I had been holding, hit my hand.

"Are you OK?"

I looked up to see Major Ritter. Massaging my hand, I nodded.

"Good," he said and raced on. I gaped; he could've at least helped me up! Grumbling, I got on my feet and grabbed my mop indignantly, following.

Snow had been swept in by the harsh South Pole wind to cover part of the East corridor, but curiously enough, the temperature rose the closer I got to the source of the disturbance. I gripped the mop anxiously as I caught sight of the rubble and orange flames. What on Earth had happened here?

Major Ritter was standing in front of the whole thing. He looked frozen, which, considering our location was entirely not impossible. I stepped next to him and took a good look; he was pale, but had no frostbites. I turned to look at the damage. Something black and definitely alien was in the middle of the fire. The flames tried to consume it in vain.

"What could've happened here?" It was hard to keep my voice steady.

"Maybe the Russians."

"No way," I said immediately. Major Ritter gave me the evil eye. "We have a Russian scientist on location, they wouldn't do that."

He didn't look like he believed me.

"They wouldn't..." My voice carried less certainty.

Something moved in the debris.

"Here." The major thrust something at me.

I must confess without shame, I gaped like a fish.

"What is that?"

"Is this the first time you've seen a gun?" he mocked me.

"Of course not!" I've seen plenty of those in movies, thank you very much.

"Take it."

"No."

"I don't have time for this," he grumbled and turned my palm up to deposit the weapon there. I gaped some more.

The major pulled out another gun, ready to shoot. He moved closer to the destruction. A shadow quickly moved among the debris, coming closer. The major aimed the gun at it.

"Halt! Identify yourself!"

"Halt! Identify yourself!" A dark, croaky voice repeated after him.

"Major Ritter. Who are you?"

"Major Ritter. Who are you?"

The major cursed and the other guy did the same. He, because it had a distinctly male voice, repeated everything that was said.

"What is it? Can you see him, major?" I, too was echoed. My eyebrow twitched in irritation. "Hey, I've a mop and not afraid to use it!"

The major glanced at me and his eyes widened as he saw the gun dangling between two of my fingers uselessly.

"What in the name of God are you doing?!"

"I'm a cleaner not a soldier!"

"Are you-"

I never got to hear the rest of his sentence; brilliant blue light cut through the flames, hitting the major in the chest. He didn't even make a sound as he fell to the floor.

Oh. My. GOD.

The gun dropped from my numb fingers, and I whirled my mop in the direction the shot came from.

It connected with something hard. I gulped and glanced up, afraid what I'd find, but too curious not to know. The towering figure before me was well over six feet and my neck hurt as I glanced at his face. He looked like a Greek sculpture - exactly like a Greek sculpture, with a handsome face and snakes for hair.

The scream stuck in my throat, and I suddenly remembered, once glance from Medusa, and you'd be turned into stone. I quickly fixed my gaze on his mouth. I was dead meat.

"Identify yourself."

This was the first time he didn't echo someone else.

"Ivona Havel. Cleaner." I risked a glance into his orange eyes. "Wh-ho are you?"

Damn my shaking.

The stranger, no, alien, had cocked his head, as if listening to something.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," I challenged. My wounded pride wouldn't let me stay quiet.

He let out a weird sound. Was that a sigh?

Then he promptly turned away and spoke into an earpiece in a language I didn't recognize.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" I shook the mop threateningly and bobbed him on the head. The snakes hissed at me angrily.

I had no idea where my common sense had gone. I froze mid-strike as his death glare was aimed at me. Would I be the next victim of the blue shot? I took a step back and he followed. Snakehead quickly trapped me against a wall, the only thing between us was the mop, dripping cleaning chemicals.

"You call this land Antarctica." I nodded, even though it wasn't a question. "We claim this land. No resistance is permitted."

"Huh?" I replied gracefully and he sneezed, along with all the snakes on his head. It was scary.

He pointed towards the sky, and I looked up, fearfully. My breath hitched as thousands of spaceships hovered above us, with blinking blue lights. Suddenly, Snakehead coughed violently and backed up.

"Wha-what is that?"

"A mop."

"P-poisooon!" he shouted and backed away some more. He spoke rapidly into his earpiece and I gripped the mop tightly. The snakes wailed painfully and shrivelled up in a moment. Snakehead screamed, clutching his head as he was beamed away in a flash of purple.

I glanced at the mop in shock. Did I just start an intergalactic war?