(First-time author [apprentice tag], enter at your own risk.)
When terror arrives, what meaning do money and status have? They seem utterly worthless.
The only thing you have is your life.
They covet your soul, consciousness, memories, flesh, and blood.
The rules will be rewritten.
Humanity?
You might be food left behind as you flee, or bait hung out during a hunt.
You may be more than just their food. You may be theirs, too.
As time passes, this world seems to grow quiet.
The anguished wails that sometimes rise from the ruins, and the ghastly howls from the wilderness, become its only soundtrack.
