She boarded the packed train and found an empty grab handle.
“Hold on tight, missy, we’re in for a bumpy ride,” said the old man whose seat was aligned with her handle.
Lenore, perplexed, gripped the handle tighter as she gazed into the man’s icy-blue eyes.
Everything started to violently shake. A sound like roaring jets filled the train, the subway, the world. Sparks from metal on metal, the train skidded to a stop.
Lenore ran off the train, up the subway steps. There it was. Big and metallic and alien. A spaceship – with icy-blue eyes at each porthole.