Welcome to this story must be told.

I'm Pastor Andrew, and I'm Brother Reed.

Together we lead the church of the story.

Are you ever sad?

Does agony snare you like a frightened bird?

Do you seek answers?

Maybe what you need is the story.

The story is now your life forever. Join us as we gather to hear the story every two weeks,

because every story must be told. I took up my phone to text Leslie when a sonic boom

cracked through the air rattling the bridge. The struts gave a rusty iron wheeze as the

supports gently swung. Instinctively, I jumped on top of Ben and held him to the ground. He screamed and cried. A fighter jet must have gone above us. A passenger plane must have slammed into another and crashed in Midtown. Jesus Christ, could there have been a bomb? Was it a dirty bomb? Improvised, nuclear? And then I turned, and I saw it.

A sickly blue electric portal shaped like a cat's eye opened over Manhattan.

A gigantic, half-mile-wide monster coiled out of it.

The monster's giant head opened like a mouse trap and spat a single stream of blue plasma

towards the financial district. The buildings burned in an odd way as if covered in electric

napal. The buildings were on fire but didn't smoke, rather disintegrated right into the ground.

The monster wound out of its interstellar portal and was nearly the length

of Manhattan. It slithered through the air like a water snake, smashing the tops of buildings

under its belly, sending debris onto the streets below.

I'm assistant groundskeeper Devin Harris. The story can be anything. A bunch of bugs, something

super scary. One time it was a TV show I watched.

Devin was relieved. It wasn't a cooking show, but it was an eating show. He turned up the volume

...