mishaelley

It's foggy outside. Every time I breathe in I can feel the humid air enter my lungs, I hear your heavy breaths so I am assured you are close behind. Crouched, the hedges of an empty house disguise us as if we were the night, we wait. The sloppy muddy feet hit hard against the ground as another tries to flee. This world has disappeared- or at least our would has. This, this is all there is now. Fear, frantic thoughts mixed with a hysteria neither of which will ever be soothed. None of this will end until our word is theirs. Them. I talk like they weren't once us, like they have always been soulless beings maliciously searching for flesh. One