In the quiet light of dawn, the Rustbucket rolled into a suspiciously serene retirement community. The streets were lined with manicured lawns and elderly residents living out a slow-motion, peaceful existence.
"Grandpa, we've got two growing boys here. You should be taking us to a stadium or a theme park, not to some nursing home... this place is a total snooze-fest," Ben grumbled, propping his chin on his hand as he stared out the window.
"I don't find 'Aunt Vera's' house boring at all, Ben," Gwen countered, crossing her arms with a smirk.
"That's because you're already an old lady at heart... Hah! Did you see that? That old guy just did a backflip!!" Ben suddenly pointed excitedly at a senior on the sidewalk.
Gwen didn't even look. "Ben, is your tiny brain overheating again?"
"Oh yeah? At least I'm not the one who nearly peed themselves when they saw Cian's new alien last night!"
"Ben! I saw you running from the Kraken! Don't even try it!"
Cian ignored their bickering, his eyes fixed on the window. A man in reading glasses stood on his porch, watching the RV pass. When he caught Cian's eye, he forced a wide, toothy smile.
It was too wide. Too stiff. It didn't reach his eyes.
My memory of this specific plot is a bit fuzzy, Cian thought, a chill running down his spine. But something is definitely wrong. I need to be on high alert.
The Rustbucket hissed to a stop. "We're at Vera's, kids! Remember to be polite—and protect your cheeks!" Max warned with a chuckle.
As they stepped out, a plump, cheerful woman rushed over. Aunt Vera. She pinched Cian and Gwen's cheeks with the strength of a professional wrestler.
"Ooh, Gwen's face feels the best!" Vera chirped. "Cian, you've gotten too thin. You need more pie!"
"Hey, Cian, why don't you turn into that 'Roaring Devil' guy? I bet your cheeks would be even squishier then," Ben teased.
"Shut it, Ben," Cian muttered, rubbing his sore face.
After the initial greetings, Cian made an excuse and slipped out the back door. He headed straight for the yard of the "backflipping" old man he had seen earlier.
"Investigating the creepy old guy? I'm in!" Ben appeared behind him. "Seriously, are you guys ever going to just relax...?" Gwen sighed, following them anyway.
Cian stopped and looked at them. "Fine. You can follow, but stay behind me. No heroics."
They found an elderly man in a wheelchair on a nearby path. He looked up, his mouth opening to reveal only a few scattered teeth. "And who... might you be...?"
"We're Vera's family, sir. Just out for a walk," Gwen explained politely.
"Vera's family... out for a walk..." The man repeated her words mechanically, his wheelchair blocking the sidewalk.
Cian frowned. He's mimicking her. Exactly.
"He probably just has dementia, guys. Let's go," Gwen said sympathetically. They began to step around him.
Suddenly, the old man moved with Zero-Frame speed. He vaulted out of the wheelchair, landing perfectly in front of them. He reached out a hand, resting it on Gwen's shoulder.
"What... is... dementia?"
His face began to split down the middle, a foul, yellowish slime bubbling from the seam. "Am I... exposed?!!"
WHAM!!
Cian reacted instantly. Without even transforming, he unleashed a brutal, Plumber-style roundhouse kick—a "Zero-Frame" strike that caught the "old man" squarely in the chest.
The impact sent the creature flying ten feet back. As it hit the ground, the human disguise dissolved into a disgusting, brownish-yellow mass of shifting sludge. A Limax. Its internal organs were visible through its translucent, slimy hide, pulsing rhythmically.
"Bookworm, is dementia an alien thing?!" Ben shouted in terror.
"NO, BEN! IT'S A DISEASE!" Gwen screamed, backing away.
Voom!
A flash of blood-red light erupted from Cian's wrist.
The Limax struggled to its feet. "I was kicked... by a child? Am I that weak?" It looked up, then its anger turned to pure dread. "What... are you?"
Floating in the air was a nightmare incarnate. A towering, spectral figure draped in tattered, bone-white shrouds. From the seams of its body, over a dozen blood-red tentacles lashed out like whips, dancing with a chaotic, demonic energy. The temperature in the street seemed to plummet to sub-zero.
Glitch Ghostfreak.
"Whatever your powers are, a ghost is the perfect counter for a pile of sludge," Cian rasped.
He didn't hesitate. A dozen red tentacles shot forward like spears, impaling the Limax through its core and limbs.
"I... am immortal..." the creature gurgled.
Squish!
Cian's tentacles pulled in opposite directions simultaneously, shredding the Limax into a dozen pieces of quivering slime. The chunks began to crawl back toward each other, slowly reforming.
"Gross and hard to kill," Cian noted. He looked at Ben. "Want to give this one a name?"
Ben's lips trembled. He couldn't even look the alien in its singular, track-mounted eye. "I... I can't. That thing is too scary."
"Fine. I'll call it Zskayr."
"Cian! More of them!" Ben pointed. Doors across the neighborhood were opening. Residents were melting out of their human skins, dozens of Mud Dogs slithering toward them.
"We're leaving!"
Cian's tentacles shot out, snagging Ben and Gwen. He phased through the environment, flying back to Aunt Vera's house at top speed.
Inside, Max was clutching a broom, backing away from Aunt Vera and "Uncle" Barney.
"Vera... I told you I was going to find the kids. Why are you acting like this?"
"Don't go, Max." "Stay here."
Vera's face began to droop like melting wax. Barney reached out a slimy hand.
CRASH!
Cian's spectral, demonic form phased through the wall, landing between Max and the monsters.
Rip! Tear!
His tentacles shredded the two Limax into piles of goo before they could even react.
"Grandpa, the town has been hollowed out," Cian said, his voice echoing with a ghostly reverb. "These things have taken everyone. We need to gear up for a long night of hunting."
Cian's eyes burned with a cold, battle-hungry light.
Max dropped the broom, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked at the dozen red tentacles waving in his living room and leaned against the wall. "Alright, Cian. But... maybe give me a warning before you phase through the drywall next time?"
His hands were shaking. Just a high heart rate, he told himself. Nothing a former Plumber can't handle.
[Template Progress: 8/100. Current Alien: Glitch Ghostfreak (Zskayr).]