Ross stood silent, in awe of the realization he had just come to. The alien wasn't lying. "It's true," he mumbled to no one in particular.

The tall black alien smiled in satisfaction. He was having fun. His eyes fell over Phoebe, who was set to be his first victim, the fire red pupils slowly took in all of her body. He admired the human form…but he loved to destroy it. Before he could begin his mechanical dismantling a startling sound echoed throughout his ears.

Millions of footsteps could be heard tapping in sync with each other. The whining engines of heavy machinery blasted throughout the hospital. The leader's gaze darted around the room in a confused panic, "What are those noises?"

Sgt. Ford was smiling wide. He knew that he might die, but the familiar noises coming from outside the hospital assured him that the alien scumbags in front of him were going to die along with him. He looked directly into the eyes of their leader. "Sorry pal, the cavalry has arrived. Your party is over." Sgt. Ford recognized the sounds outside as those of marching soldiers and standard military tanks, and the smile wasn't leaving his face. He knew they came ready to fight.

"Everybody!" The alien shouted as he turned toward his army of green figures. He then continued to yell at them in their native language of gargles and shrieks, his free hand waving about in anger and frustration. The group of humans looked on in horror and confusion, unsure of what instructions the creature was giving. Within moments, the large army of green figures began filing out the door, their claws out and their jaws clenched, obviously ready to fight. The leader's grip on Phoebe tightened as he walked toward the door, shouting at his soldiers as they left for battle, pumping them up.

Ross held on tight to his golf club as he stared at his wife, held against her will in the clutches of evil. After a few moments, the room fell silent, as it had been emptied of all the green foot soldiers. The leader dragged Phoebe along side of him as he reached for the door, beginning to close it. Ross saw this as his one opportunity to stand up for himself, and he took it. He sprinted toward the alien, golf club drawn over his head, a look of pure intensity painted over his face. The sound of a sweeping club filled the room, and then a crack was heard as it made contact with the side of his skull. Phoebe pulled loose from his grasp, falling to the floor, and crawling away from the creature as fast as possible.

The leader hit the ground hard, a dark hand covering the wound caused by the golf club. Sgt. Ford didn't waste anytime trying to rescue everyone in the room. "Everybody out!" he shouted. His gun was drawn in front of him as he held open the door of the ER; his eyes fixed on the still moving alien. All the doctors in white coats ran out of the room, stumbling over each other in their haste. One of them carried the large plastic bag filled with the Lorenez virus.

The bag of blue liquid caught Sgt. Ford's eyes. That bag was too dangerous to just be thrown around in the midst of chaos. Sgt. Ford yelled to the running doctor. "Where are you going with that bag? Bring that back here!" But the man wasn't turning around, he was too afraid to even look back. Ford turned and was going to run after him, but he decided his biggest worry was still the leader.

But those few seconds that Ford turned his back was all that the leader needed. As the four friends tried to help Phoebe to her feet, Ross continued to pound the leader with his golf club. But all he was doing was fueling his fire. The alien swung a foot back against Ross, knocking him clear across the room. The strength of the leader was greater than any of the other aliens the group had encountered. He was on his feet in an instant, and a large dark foot connected with Sgt. Ford's back as he was staring down the hall. The gun went flying out of his grasp as his body hit the floor with an echoing thud. The leader grabbed both of the double doors and slammed them shut, locking out Sgt. Ford and anyone else crazy enough to want inside of the room.

********

Dr. David Lieberman wasn't really a doctor. His real name was Steven Goldberg, and in his hand he carried a sample of the most deadly virus the world had ever seen. It worked quickly, infecting a human being, and knocking into the coma in less than a day. After 24 hours of infection, a person was dead. Sure, doctors, and Steven especially, knew very little about the virus, which would make infecting mass amounts of people difficult. But the lack of information is what made it so dangerous. Steven would find a way to terrorize the world with his new toy. He guaranteed it.

Alert flashed through his head as he heard Sgt. Ford call after him. He thought that in everyone's confusion no one would notice him leaving with the virus, but the sergeant had. Steven chose to ignore the man's shouts and keep on running. Hopefully he wouldn't have the time or the energy to chase after him. Through the mass of running doctors, the emergency exit stairwell came into Steven's sight, but a noise from behind him caused him to stop in his tracks. There on the ground, next to his feet, was the gun that Sgt. Ford had been carrying. Steven bent down to pick it up, and looked down the hallway to see Ford slowly rising to his feet.

Ford called down to him. "Hey! Bring me back that gun! And that virus!" Ford began to run toward the fake doctor, and the only thing Steven could think to do was run away from him. But, as he turned around, he ran right into two doctors waiting arms, one of which being Dr. Ismail, the other Dr. Jackson, both ready to keep him from leaving until Sgt. Ford got there.

Steven managed to slip form their grasp temporarily, and gained that one second of freedom he needed. He pulled the trigger on the gun he had just picked up, and fired a bullet into the head of Dr. Jackson, sending his body lifelessly to the ground. Dr. Ismail looked on in shock, unable to move. He never noticed the gun being pointed his way.

Sgt. Ford yelled as he sprinted down the hallway. "No! Wait!" But it was too late. A bullet was fired into the chest of Dr. Ismail, splashing droplets of blood against the hallway wall as his body slowly sunk to the floor. "No!" Ford shouted again as he closed in on the lunatic gunman.

Steven pivoted on his heels, turning quickly to face the sprinting Sgt. Ford, who was only a few feet away from him. The gun was quickly aimed at his body, and two shots were fired just before Ford was able reach him. The bullets tore through Sgt. Ford's chest, the impact sending his body backwards, causing him to hit the floor with a thump that echoed throughout the now empty halls.

Steven Goldberg looked over the three bodies, finally realizing the seriousness of what he had just done. And a smile spread across his face.

***********

Chandler and Joey just couldn't stand by idly. They both charged the leader, Joey with his club raised in the air, Chandler with nothing but his fists and feet. The alien smiled as they ran toward him, he did enjoy a good fight. A right hand reached upwards to stop Joey's swinging club in mid-air, while the alien's left foot made contact with Chandler's chest, sending him backward toward the three girls. The alien then slapped Joey with his left hand, causing Joey's ears to ring so loudly he could barely hear.

The three girls huddled together in fear near the back wall, looking on in horror as the men in their lives failed to defeat the creature in front of them. A sadistic grin passed over the alien's dark lips as he slowly approached the cowering females. It was tradition on his planet that the woman and children were always killed first in battles. The one's that survived would be sold into slavery.

A wicked laugh was emitted as his hands extended toward them, the blade slowly creeping out from behind his middle finger. He ran it dangerously close to each of their throats, daring any of them to make a move. But they didn't have to, because a gun shot from outside of the ER distracted the alien. And then another shot. And then two more. "What now?!" He turned to look out the door of the ER, but he was met by Ross Gellar, and a fist to the face.

The alien stumbled backward, struggling to regain his balance. He fell all the way to the wall, then used it's solidity to get himself balanced. The three girls scrambled away from him, each running away in a different direction. His large dark palm made a grasp for all of them, and although it missed Monica and Phoebe by inches, it locked a grip on Rachel's hair. He began to pull her backward toward his body, that evil smile spreading over his face once again.

Chandler's eyes were locked on the figure. Adrenaline flew through his veins, palms rolled into fists, and he began running toward the leader as fast as his legs would take him. He refused to let his girl be the first victim. Chandler dived for the figure, hoping to tackle him to the ground, giving Rachel time to get away. But the alien had other plans.

The dark palmed released Rachel, and the leader's body was turned toward the diving Chandler. The alien stepped forward, and with both of his arms extended, caught Chandler, and pulled him into his grip. One dark arm wrapped closely around his throat, the other arm put out in front of him, blade extended, threatening anyone who dared tried to help Chandler.

A laugh rolled passed the alien's lips. "You people never give up." His grip tightened around Chandler's throat. "I think it has something to do with this city." His dark voice boomed throughout the room as he looked over the group of aching humans. "Out of every person we tried to channel, it was always the New Yorkers that tried to fight it the most. That's why we decided we had to take this city first…we had to get you persistent little pests out of the way. We studied this city intensively, and we expected the exact kind of resistance you are giving us now. You might think you still have a fighting chance, but you don't. We know everything there is to know about you. We've seen everything you have to offer."

Chandler felt a growing sense of altruism. If he could sacrifice himself for the rest of his friends, he was going to do it. He new the fight had to end soon, or the alien would simply wear them down. Chandler sighed as he struggled for breath. "So you've seen everything in New York, huh?" His hands tried their hardest to pry the alien's arm off of his neck. "Tell me, has anyone given you the finger yet?"

The alien stood silent for a moment, thinking about what Chandler had just asked him. Then a roaring laugh was emitted from deep inside his gut. "No. No one has." The leader did know what he was referring to, a simple gesture of the hand that showed a human's displeasure for another being, event, or act. It had actually taken them a long time to decipher what the gesture meant, but after seeing taxi drivers continually display it on the highway, its meaning became clear.

Chandler smirked. "Well then…" Chandler pulled his right hand off of the alien's arm, where he had bee desperately trying to pull it off. Instead, he raised it over his right should in a fist. "I guess there's a first time for everything." Chandler never raised his digit. Behind his middle finger, his skin tore, and a painful scream ripped through him. Quickly, just like he had seen a dozen aliens do before him, a blade drew out from his skin, sharper than any knife on planet Earth. With a slight flick of the wrist backward, the blade tore through the skin of the alien's skull. It ripped through his dark forehead, stabbing into its brain.

A deafening shriek was heard everywhere in NYC. The body of the leader fell limp, causing the blade to cut upward through its brain, cutting the top half of its head in half. The body slid off the blade, and hit the body with a thump that none of the six could hear. Their ears were still ringing from the shriek.

Their eyes were still wide with confusion.