Demons of the island: part 2

The lantern light casted a vale of orange light upon the walls of the underground shelter I had carved out as I made my way to the corner of the

small hole. My feet tapping against the stone echoed down the mine shaft it was connected too and flew down the ravine as I came to the diary and marked a new day in the massacre of mankind that I now lived in. It had been 7 days since I had arrived on this pitiful island and yet every time I awoke I hoped, wished it was a bad dream. 

As my dreary feet carded my gloomy body up the ramshackle stairs I felt an aura of doom. A lurking menace on my shoulder- taunting me as I rose. 
Even the shining sun seemed sad. Watching as its precious earth was torn and crumbled like wet paper. The orange leaves glided around me and I went to smell the fresh salt air but instead my nose was  ridiculed by a horrid stench unlike any I had experienced before. The smell filled my nose and made me feel drowsy, sleepy, slow. I stumbled and caught myself as I turned to be met by a charging Martin, no tripod but a small rectangular machine, with many legs. 

Every instinct in my body told me to run yet the smell pulled on me, slowing me down. I decided to pull out my bow but I had no arrows on me.  So I did the best I could- I went to the water.  The machine chased my and I struggled to keep awake as I through myself into the sea. But I was too late. The machine came to me and as I ducked under my ears were shattered and I was thrown like a toy by a child into the murky depths of the sea. 

As the heat and the shockwave cooled down I was dragged up onto the shore. The dirt was hot and torn. I sat in a crater that now stood in place of the machine. But woe has a habit of never leaving, only hiding. Suddenly I was thrown into the air and my legs were set alight in pain and heat as I once again found myself crashing into the ocean. But this was no suicide Martian like that "Kamikaze" machine. It stood on two legs leading to a box head and a tube mouth that bombarded the ocean with explosions.

Only 3 days ago I had encountered a machine with the miraculous marvel of flight, it had disgraced the tree tops with its weaponry but these machines only thought one word:
Destruction. 

As quickly as a rabbit I climbed onto the shore and ran for tree cover against my hunter but trees were but blades of grass to it, tossing them and braking them as its wave of destruction swept the former island. If I were to survive I would have to get back to my shelter, now guarded by this bombarding machine. 
Then I saw it, the sun set. As the world fell into the purple and red brush strokes I saw a small dot approach the island. As it came nearer and nearer I made it out as a small boat, with a man inside. I was not the last of my species. But I knew not who this was, nor what he wanted. All I knew then, was that thing weren't the same anymore.