Mrs. President strolled into the Oval Office, her jewelry clinking like a windchime in a strong breeze . “Hello Jim”, She said to her husband, words slurred by something unknown.
“What’s that, honey?” The First Man asked, but his wife was already passed out on the couch. The First Man shrugged and brushed it off, assuming that she was exhausted after a long day of foreign negotiations.

When she woke up from a long, long night of sleep, the president felt very strange. She knew she had a little cold, but she knew something was off. She had been blacking out, and waking up in new places. People had been giving her strange looks on the street, or just ignoring her. What if I have the Alien Virus? Thought the president. She knew there were antibiotics and treatments for that condition, but she thought she was just hallucinating from such little sleep. I’ll see the doctor tomorrow, she thought as she clicked on her plasma screen TV.

The President knew something was wrong with when her cold persisted for more than 3 weeks, and that she kept reportedly blacking out. Even with these odd symptoms that doctors couldn’t pin to anything, she knew she had to do something. And then, right as she got up to go to the doctor, the president blacked out and forgot everything about curing herself.

The next day, President Smith limped around an Area 51 that was teeming with alien life, while the foreign being inside her slowly begun to understand how her body worked. The next day, it was reported that many aliens had escaped from the base. What wasn’t reported was that the president did it. The condition was getting worse, but nobody knew how bad it was.

Mrs. Smith walked into the conference room awkwardly. The sickness was at its high point but showed no sign of breaking. The president had been acting strange for months, let alone weeks, according to Secret Service intel. But now, as she spoke, the Secret Service knew something very peculiar was going on.

“Green, do you think something is wrong with the president?” said Agent Johnson. The agent he was talking to started. His name was Jefferson, not Green. Then, Johnson remembered that the alien virus had made yet another victim of Green last night.
“You know what to do,” Johnson told him, eyes fixed on the president.
Jefferson nodded curtly. It couldn't hurt to perform an emergency scan or two on the president, he thought as he escorted her to the presidential limo. He wondered about the safety of the nation, what we would do without this revolutionary figure we call the president. We need this president more than ever. She needs to get well, and I have to help.

That night as the president slept soundlessly, Jefferson tied her to a stretcher, put her in his car, and drove swiftly to the hospital. There he left her with one of the world’s most trusted doctors saying “Give her every kind of scan in the book”, and returned to his post before anyone noticed his absence. He was nervous, because if the country lost such a key part to its structure, chaos would almost certainly erupt.

?

After the Q&A of the president by an Iranian ambassador, the results of the scans were sent via hologram to Agent Johnson. “We need to talk. P-President Smith, she has an alien living inside her. Come see me immediately”. Knew it, thought the agent, as he ran out of the Capitol Building, almost tripping over his own feet. Agent Johnson hopped in a taxi, yelled “Step on it!” and went to the doctor’s office, fearing what was to become of the president and the country’s security.

The president was sedated and strapped down for an autopsy. ¨Are there other ways?” ¨I wish I could say so, Jim.” His heart sunk lower than it had the day his partner had died. He was so empty, and now the president was gone, just like Agent Green.

The president woke up strapped down, feeling woozy, being carted down a long, wide hallway. ¨What´s going on?¨ she asked. Her everyday doctor, Lindsey Quinn, said ¨Oh, I must not have used enough sleeping medicine.¨ And then the president lost control of her body. She broke free of her restraints, seemed to split into two people. One of which stayed in the autopsy room, and one who ran towards the armed helicopter used by the nearby Secret Service base. The wrong person was followed. This was a fatal mistake. Not just for the agent and the doctor, but for the nation.

Unluckily for the Secret Service, the press had caught on to what was happening to the president. So when she ran towards the armed helicopter, followed by the press, the Secret Service and Dr. Quinn had to run after her. Little did they know that that was a decoy, and the real president was still standing in the autopsy room.

She stood up. Her body and mind still woozy from being drugged. The alien inside of the president had gained full control was decided to exit the room, and take over Los Angeles. That was a mistake. The second the president got up, a silent alarm sounded, the security cameras broadcast on CCTV, and none was heard or spoken, other than the alien’s demonic voice. “It’s good to stretch this old bag’s bones. Hahaha!” Now, I just need to walk out the door, and I’m home free, thought the vile intruder. The hyper-security in the room kicked in, and the president was immediately cut in half by a buzz-saw. Blood spilled all over the floor, and the alien sunk into the president’s blood, their organs intertwined.

    Agent Johnson and Dr. Quinn walked in a few minutes later, closely followed by the press. The press, the agent, and the doctor all saw the same gruesome sight. A buzzsaw just sticking out of the ground, covered by none other than president Jane Smith’s blood. But this was not her blood alone. Some off-color, cold to the touch liquid was oozing from her corpse.

    As cameras and microphones alike gathered around the Agent, he only murdered four words; “The president,” said Agent Johnson, “is dead”.

?

As the news of a nationwide tragedy caused by an extraterrestrial being spread throughout the world, everyone went absolutely crazy, and the government could do nothing about it. The country was plunged into a terrifying anarchy, with the rich holed up in the bunkers used to ride out the alien missile. Serial killers roamed the streets, and an alien virus loomed like a massive tsunami over the world. Everyone was terrified of what was to come. Supplies were low, but not as low as hope.
Even though the president was dead, all other government officials refused to do their duty of stepping into the Oval Office. Anarchy consumed an already war-ridden country while nobody knew exactly what was happening. Nobody could be trusted, yet everyone had to be. The streets smelled of blood, and complete annihilation loomed. Had humans not tried to take over and colonize Mars the president may not have been inhabited, an anarchy not ensued.

Everybody feared for their lives because they only knew one thing for certain. This was the end. People held their loved ones tight because they would never see them again. Some would perish of disease, others by many stab wounds. It was a sad world to live in, but it was the only one we knew.

There was no light at the end of the tunnel. Only death.