War of the Worlds

I awoke the next morning, and looked from my window, I saw a crowd of ponies on Horsesham Common, I ran to see what was happening. The cylinder still revolved, we stood staring waiting for something. We didn’t know what, but we knew that we would know what it was when we saw it.

Then it happened, the lid of the cylinder ceased revolving, and with a shocking thud, it fell to the ground. A pair of huge green eyes appeared over the rim, scanning us, judging us... the eyes rose, along with the huge bulk to which they belonged; it heaved and pulsated, still looking around the crowd. Some ponies ran towards it, knowing it would try to kill the countless crowd gathered around it. A funnel fose from the cylinder, it pointed towards the ground, and an invisible ray of heat flew from it, turning the ponies instantly into fire, there were no remains, just fire. The flame leapt from the ponies to the trees and bushes surrounding the common. Ponies fled, I was swept with the crowd, I ran, finally making my way home, I wrote a draft for my newspaper, and then fell into a restless sleep, haunted by the deaths I had witnessed, and the hammering now coming from the pit.

I woke the next day, looking out once more to the common, the hammering still came from the cylinder, and the common was surrounded by soldiers, trying to form a cordon to keep the public out. It was even stranger now to think that, after five deaths, and the sighting of a Maretian, the daily routine still continued, people were almost oblivious to the danger, but we all knew that this would not be the end of the attack.

That evening, I saw the second cylinder land, and I knew that now, my home lay in the path of an invasion...