The kids are standing around, pretending to be busy, looking at her in awe. Their father hired her to guard them safely to Sanctuary. So far they haven’t seen her in action, but ‘Coiled’ Sabine Tidan is a legendary Psion. Renown for being one of the originals and infamous for killing a bunch of rogue ones. Now considered dead by most and fictitious by some, she drinks herself to sleep in some of the most notorious settlements of the outer lands. Most people forget that the world was dangerous even before the Mindflayers. Their appearance upped the scale in multitudes and forced parts of the world to unite. Whatever ‘s left, at least. From those remaining, most forget that Psions cannot truly stop the alien overlords, they can only slow them down.

“How do they look like, milady?” The only girl from the young trio speaks up.

Sabine sighs, pauses and then looks at the children. Their father said that they were special. That it was vital for humanity’s survival that they get to Sanctuary. Bunch of religious prophecy bullshit if you ask her.

“Sometimes they take physical form, sometimes they’re incorporeal. My eyes always see transparent floating goo.” The kids excitedly exclaim hearing her response. They wouldn’t if she continued describing the proboscis. “… and I am not a lady.”

Humans cannot sense the Mindflayers. They cannot see them. They cannot hear them. They cannot smell them. They are invincible to our detection and to any man made technology. They just arrive unbothered closeby and they suck the consciousness out of you with a straw, leaving you an empty husk with zero brain activity. Sometimes during their flaying something happens that severs this process leaving behind survivors. Those few who mysteriously survive, they are left behind with psychic powers and supernatural senses, and most importantly they become immune to the Mindflayers’ proboscis, the actual weapon that extracts our sentience. Those survivors are the Psions, and amidst other talents they can sense their makers.

“We have powers too, you know!” The younger boy speaks up and soon his sister stands in front of him with her short arms crossed on her waist. “Not yet, Peetah. We have to unlock them first.”

“Good luck with that …” Sabine cynically whispers while clearly annoyed with the little girl’s pompous melodical accent.

The father approaches and caresses the little boy while stressing his eyes toward Sabine. “We’ve rested enough. Time to move on”.

They all gather their belongings and continue their path deep within the Rotting Woods. Sabine, now in her mid fifties, has never stepped foot in here before. An old Psion companion of hers is rumored to be stationed in the area. She used to hold a badge herself a long time ago but that Sabine, the one they used to call ‘The Coiled’, is buried in the past. The markings on her face and body are still there, but the only spirit left in her is the one in the glass bottles she hoards in her backpack.

Thomas, the father of the kids, seems about the same age as her. He looks rough and surely holds his own demons as he survived the Cataclysm. The stories talk about a sundering of the world, a great cataclysmic tempest that scoured the land before the invincible predators arrived. In truth, it was just a heavy storm spread across the continent. The sundering came after one by one, the people in the streets, started levitating in the air, beating themselves, screaming until their voided flesh dropped on the ground like ripe fruits.

The group walks a good ten mile before Sabine catches the scent. A Mindflayer is near, maybe more. She informs Thomas and he tries to calmly explain the situation to the children. He begins smearing them with dirt. She knows camouflage does nothing. Psions have the ability to sense other minds and their thoughts if they are in proximity. A gift passed down by the Mindflayers who definitely share this trait.

Sabine checks her rifle. Bullets do not truly harm the aliens, but they do enough to slow them down, even stun them sometimes. She opens the barrel, trashes all the loaded shots and then fully reloads. A small good-luck ritual she gathered along the way.

“It is closer than I thought” Sabine whispers. “Stay back. Hide. When you hear me shooting, run east like you’ve never run before.”

They all nod in fear and with her rifle pointing north, Sabine steps forward. Every second that passes the indications get stronger and stronger. She’s been asked tens and hundreds of times to explain what she truly experiences when they are close, but besides the visual and the smell stimuli her descriptions usually omit the part that’s scarier for most. Sometimes the Mindflayers speak to her. No vocal sound is produced per se and no conceivable message is relayed. Telepathical gibberish, sometimes even from kilometers away. The most maddening and loathsome rings a human mind can internally process. 

Suddenly, Sabine pulls her rifle in firing position and raises her left hand signaling at the family far behind. Thomas clenches both his fists holding Oliver on one and Alice on the other, who in turn has grabbed Peter’s hand, all of them crouched and all of them drenched in dirt and horror. 

One … two … three … four … five … six … seven …

Sabine lets her guard down. Her arms fall to the side. The rifle almost slips from her fingers.

Twelve … thirteen … fourteen … fifteen … sixteen … 

She takes a step back and then tilts her body forward. 

Nineteen … twenty … twenty one … twenty two …

Thomas starts getting anxious.

Twenty six … twenty seven … twenty eight …

“Is everything alright?” he calls out. Immediately, Oliver is violently pulled from his father’s hand and pulled up towards the sky. The boy cries and screams while his siblings watch him being flayed right in front of their eyes. Thomas pulls out a pistol. He shoots around the boy’s levitating body, but nothing happens. “What the FUCK are you doing Tidan?”

Sabine remains paralyzed. A singular, yet extremely large, Mindflayer has passed through her completely undisturbed and right now is collecting its targets, targets she was supposed to protect. She may have become an old misanthropic bastard, but never has she strayed while on a job. She doesn’t even drink on hire. That is such, because she has never seen Jared, her long gone son, in front of her, alive calling for her to join him. Never until now. He’s exactly the same as when she saw him last. Everything in her power is telling him that he’s real, but it makes no sense. The Mindflayers took him decades ago. They took him even before they attempted to take her. Damn, even her psychic senses are underlining the truth that he’s physically there. If he was truly alive, he would be over thirty years old now.  “J…Jared is that you?” her voice trembles. Jared runs deeper in the woods. Sabine follows.

“You FUCKING BITCH!” Thomas yells. Little Oliver’s skull shakes while the hideous creature feeds on the poor boy. Thomas grabs the other two sobbing children and runs away. Soon enough Oliver’s body drops. The Mindflayer’s hunger isn’t quenched yet though. It easily catches up, extends its machine-like proboscis outside its oozy veil and hurls it again towards the girl’s nape. Alice is pulled away. “Noooooo!” Thomas screams. He desperately pulls his backpack, opens it and from a special compartment quickly removes a bizarre jar.

Sabine follows Jared closely. She battles the thought of attempting to touch him. So far their pace makes it impossible. A few minutes after running in the woods, Jared stops. In front of him, semi transparent orange goo. The same thing Sabine sees when she looks at one of these aliens. Only that the goo appears to exist within a rip of our reality. A wormhole maybe. Jared approaches it. Sabine extends her hand and at the same time an extreme surge of adrenaline fills her body. “A thought bomb?” astonished, she mutters.

Thomas, enraged, raises the abhorrent jar. With uttermost force he throws it below Alice and the glass smashes. Everyone collapses. Including Sabine in the distance, right before she got her chance to feel her son again.