CHILLER
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The earth is under attack. A race of alien creatures desires it for their own use. They have sent ahead two scouts to make preparations for their coming. Only a small band of unlikely allies stand in their way.
"John's first step outside seemed to echo. He stopped before he took another. It felt strange. He took a look up at the cold blue sky, it was crisp and clear. He had an odd feeling that he was being watched and he turned around 360 degrees. There was nothing to see. It was quiet though. Dead quiet. No birds were tweeting at all. Surely not all of them had headed south for the winter?
He got to his campervan. It was old and quite weathered, but they had shared some epic trips: all around Scotland and Wales, in fact, every corner of the U.K. at one time or another, in sun, rain and snow. He put the rusty key in the door lock. Before he turned it, he stopped. He had an overwhelming feeling that he should turn around and go back inside the house. He dismissed it as best he could, he had important things to do and friends to help today. He turned the key in the ignition. As he did so, he had a flurry of memories, not just about his travels, but about many different things: his family, his wedding, and school days. Many instances of him healing people and their faces flashed through his mind. He felt completely at peace.
The creature had struck with brutal efficiency. John's partially dismembered body lay strewn, unceremoniously, in the street. From the bedroom window, Gilmour could see him, all broken and lifeless. He stared intently at the creature as it surveyed its own handy work.
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