How could such global reach and supremacy be maintained by these creatures?
It was a question which vexed the creature wearing its brunette female suit of flesh. Diners, such as this one, even sitting out in a desert town should have some form of rudimentary defences. Yet, no... It did not. Nothing beyond a smattering of firearms and mere patriotic faith.
Little wonder they could be so plentifully taken at will.
Curious, too, that their genders, young, sickly and old be segregated according to social status and function. No such considerations were given for her kind and for Nalia to find herself having to adhere to such... Expectations of her human shell seemed like, at best, an inconvenience. Perhaps even a potential insult.
"Why do they call it the 'special'? What's so special about it?"
The answer given, however, made no more sense than before. Surely, if a commodity was valued, why change it daily?
The waitress never came in, the following night. Nor the night after that.
Still with your specials...
The words drifted into mind as another diner in another time was passed by. The outside menu noticed with that familiar phrase underlined. Another waitress looking her way through the menu and offering a smile, hopeful for the chance to attract a further potential customer. This one, however, would show up tomorrow. Would escape the erstwhile attentions of those who would possess her as livestock or worse.
Pausing only for that solitary moment of consideration, Nalia turned head, walking on.