I inwardly winced as I felt more than heard another one of my comrades crash to the ground, their life seeping out of them slowly. Such a horrible thing had now become commonplace to me over the last few days, as one by one, more of us were killed by that lurking enemy, helpless to resist.
The murderers had marked us before they killed us, a seemingly trivial thing to us when it had happened. We had heard the enemy before, walking amongst us, laughing and playing. They had not touched us then, so what had we to fear? It was because of this that when the deaths started, there was a feeling of shock and betrayal all around.
At first it was only a few of us that were killed, and though their lives were mourned, many were just thankful it was not them and went on with their daily activities. How naïve we were then, thinking that they would not come back for more.
Days passed, with more and more dying, their unheard screams echoing across the barren landscape that had once been a forest. The hungry buzz of the great metal monsters became simply a background noise to my thoughts. The enemy towed away our carcasses by the hundreds. There was no time to weep for what was lost, only to fear for what was to come, and who would die next.
I shifted restlessly, both from the cold, cold wind, and from my freezing fear. The noise of their machinery was beginning to get much closer. Too close. I was too young, still considered a child compared to the other great giants that had towered over me. I was not ready to die! A few hours passed, and then a few more. I felt hope well up in me. Maybe...