Scores of people sat amongst the sandy beach and marveled at the clear blue sky. A little wooden shack with a barely visible sign caught my attention before we descended upon the beach.
“The milkshake den. Valerie, check this out. Looks new. I’m definitely getting one.”
My wife hesitated—too focused on the gorgeous scenery in front of us—and then slowly glanced in my direction. “I want one too. Can you get me a vanilla? I’ll find a nice spot not too close to other people.”
The hole in the wall hut had no employees. It was just a vending machine where you selected your flavor, and it dispensed a shake into a plastic cup. Only three options: vanilla, chocolate, half and half. I inserted a ten into the machine and selected a vanilla and then a half and half for myself.
The first sip was incredible. Just the right amount of creaminess. A few more quick slurps and a brain freeze kicked in, but it wasn’t painful. Quite the opposite. My brain felt like it was an ocean filled with waves splashing against the edges of my head. I stumbled a bit carrying the shakes over to Valerie. A woozy feeling trickled through me off and on.
“You alright Matt?”
“Yeah, must be the heat. You have to try this shake. It’s incredible. Best one I’ve ever had.”
Valerie took a long sip, and a smile grew across her face. “Oh, my goodness.” She sucked down more of it and then plopped onto the beach towel, where I joined her.
I looked to my left at another couple staring up at the sky. “What the…”
The man and woman looked gigantic, as if they were ten feet tall. They were both standing side-by-side completely still, heads tilted up to the sky. A cluster of strobe-light like flashes sizzled like fireworks way above them and then floated down to their bodies.
“Look at this couple next to us. They are huge.”
Valerie did not respond. Her head was raised, eyes looking above. I squirmed and then snapped my fingers in front of her. “Are you okay? Was there something funky in this shake?”
I grabbed her shoulder and shook it, and her head flopped sideways, resting on her other shoulder. I tried lifting her head back up, and as I did, her skin stretched like taffy. Gobs of neck and cheek flesh peeled off her face.
I fell back and watched as her body reconfigured itself. Her eyes moved to her tongue and then her tongue poked out of her mouth. Her eyes looked like they were sizing me up. My own mouth sealed shut before I could unleash a scream. My eyes bulged when I noticed my arms extending in length and doubling in width.
Valerie stood up and brought me to her feet. “Show me our home. Show me where we live.”
Her voice—unhuman-like—echoed as if she were in a tunnel. I looked around at the other families on the beach. Their bodies were distorted, limbs of various sizes. Nothing like you would see on a human. One kid was completely round and flat.
My own body started to feel like it was being replaced, taken over by someone or something else. Against my will, I went home with Valerie.
One we were in our house, I somehow managed to pull apart my mouth. I forced myself to vomit up the contents of the shake. As the gunk spilled out, flashing lights exited my mouth and disintegrated in the air. I felt human again. Valerie was not so lucky. She sat on the couch, turned on the TV, and scanned hours of content in seconds, as the TV flickered.
I drove myself to the hospital, and after a series of tests, they found damage done to the occipital lobe part of my brain.
“Visual distortion is a common effect as a result of this,” the doctor told me.
When I eventually returned home, Valerie was eating food in the fridge at an alarming rate. Swallowing full heads of lettuce in one bite, emptying tubs of mayonnaise into her mouth. She looked over at me.
“I’m done here. I will leave you now,” she said.
Valerie shrunk down into a small pile of flickering specs of light and then flew outside. It’s been over a year now, and I still have not seen her since that day in the house. I don’t know what exactly happened. Did our bodies get taken over by an alien species? Day by day, I’m still having trouble with my vision. I don’t know who is human anymore.