Charnel House Earth: The Death Of Humanity, Chapter 19: A Well Oiled Machine

There would be no more hesitancy from the men. Burying those whose deaths they had caused had humbled them. Made them think.

From that moment on, the troops fell in line behind their generals. Over the weeks that followed, they became bonded to their generals. And to each other.

They now knew that they were fighting for something far greater than themselves. They were fighting to save all of humanity. Even those who were now enslaved by the invaders.

This wasn’t to say that there weren’t occasional bouts of rebelliousness, there were. But for the most part, the mutinous behavior had vanished. The need to dominate had ceased, at least within our army. 

In the days that followed, they fought valiantly and without complaint. Where there had been weakness, there was strength. Where there had been rebellion, only obedience.

Soon, the generals began to gain more respect from the men. Their unerring patience and genteel way of dealing with matters proved to be their greatest asset. Their leadership, unparalleled.

As our forces began to gell, they were able to pick out the plants—those sent by the enemy to weaken morale. Those sent to weaken all defenses. Or to sabotage our weapons.

These were taken prisoner and herded into internment camps where they would sit until we decided what needed to be done with them. Or how to free them from the enemy’s control. But was that possible?

Could we actually free them? Or were they nulls? Would we erase their ability ‘to do’ if we removed the enemy’s control?

There were so many variables. So many unknowns. We weren’t sure that anything would work.

How many of them were acting mindless in order to prove their devotion to these false gods? How many believed that they were going to obtain entrance into Heaven? Or Paradise? Or immortality?

How many were simply foolish enough to believe the lies and think that their daring would gain them princeship? After all, the religious had fallen right in line behind the enemy. They had bowed in worship to these monsters.and less than half had even been ‘converted’ into the techno-slave or involuntary hosts.

There were still millions, if not billions, of religious worshipers left. Most were already mindless due to their prolonged conditionings by their ‘men of God’. some were further conditioned by the propaganda that the former President and his media partners had been piping to them.

These would be willing to attempt sabotage. Or infiltration to cause loss of morale. After all, they had been so willing to kidnap, send pipe bombs, place hate cards in mailboxes, or kill peaceful protestors for the former president, they would definitely be willing to try espionage for their new masters.

They had been so willing to be the reason the country collapsed before the enemy appeared. They would be more than willing to do the same for the enemy. Anything to exact what they perceived as their vengeance.


The sandhogs and mudjackers had successfully confiscated the heavy equipment needed to build our underground city. Deep beneath the ground, stretching from Colorado to eastern Iowa, and even as far west as Idaho, Nevada, Utah and eastern California, lay a massive city that the enemy could not detect. Nor would it be able to survive the temperatures down there at the entry points. Not even the human hosts could survive the heat.

Not in the ventilation shafts. These, though small, were left open so the city could receive fresh oxygen. The hot air was cooled by our condensers once the air reached the circulation center. 

The cities, themselves, were kept inhabitable by alien technology that formed a bio-shield that held in the cooled air. This shield filled only ⅔ of the extremely large cavern, the last third being open and inhospitable. This was intentional.

The unshielded portion of the cavern was meant as a trap. Something to catch the enemy’s spies and assassins should they attempt the descent. Here, they would die as they slowly roasted.

The underground city was immaculate. Our alien allies introduced us to generators that could take the heat of magma and turn it into energy. Capacitors were placed to help act as a conduit.this conduit spread the energy out to all the buildings in the city. 

A field was created to create a false sun from some of the magma. Then, two. These were darkened just enough to make the ‘sun’ into a ‘moon’ so that all could sleep.

Water was piped in from the aquifers in the region. This would give those who sought to be the farmers and ranchers who supplied us with food with waters for their farms and ranches. It would give the rest of us a way to bathe and something to drink. 

We had created an inner Earth. And though we fought battles on the surface, this was to be our home for the next four years. Not that it would seem that long. Or that short.

Rather, to some, it would seem an eternity. To the rest, it would seem but a blink of the eye. To me, it would end up remaining my home.

But in the beginning, it was home to all. As it had been intended. At the same time, it was a safe haven. A place we could go that our enemy could not.

Some learned to farm in this strange new world. Some would breed cows, pigs, and sheep. All on the outlying rim of the settlement.

Food would still be plentiful. We would be able to eat, even after the crops topside dwindled to nothing. And they were beginning to do just that.

We were, from that point on, self sufficient. We had no need to resurface for supplies. We had all we needed within our new underworld community.


“We’ve perfected the dirty bombs,” one of the scientists announced, “at least as much as we could without actually testing them.”

“Several alien craft were loaded with the vaccine,” another scientist added, “and are currently on their way to the parasite’s home planet.”

“Good, good,” the general nodded, “and are the dirty bombs ready to send as care packages to the enemy?”

“Yes,” the first scientist averred, “as soon as they are attached to a few missiles. Once that is done, we will be able to send them to each of the enemy craft.”

“How long will it take to adapt them to the missiles?” The general sat back.

“A few months,” the lead scientist confirmed, “possibly longer.”

And what you sent to the parasites’ home world?” He pressed.

“Similar to cluster bombs,” the lead scientist admitted, “designed to explode on impact, sending up a dust cloud filled with the poisonous mix.”

“Should we also bomb Earth?” He was concerned. “To ensure that we kill the parasite here as well? Just in case it can survive in the soil.”

“Of course,” the lead scientist nodded, “but we’ll have to close off our air vents when we do. Or design a filter so that the poison doesn’t seep down here.”

“Will it wash away?” He was doubtful.

“Yes,” the scientist averred, “with the first post war rains.”