The ships burned cigarette holes into the blanket of blue satin sky.
The people gazed skyward, displaying digits tattooed into their hyper-extended necks.
The numbers meant that they’ve been chosen, that they’ve killed to earn their limited tickets to salvation.
They’ve trimmed the population down to half for the chance to dwell in the new world created by superior species.
The chosen’s bodies lifted into the air. The earth spun like a giant baggage carousel.
In every corner, screams pierced the air in innumerable shades of intensity, as each extraterrestrial immigrant scanned the digits and claimed their designated flesh suits.