Day 547

They say the plants came overnight, swamped the entire village and left few survivors.
Most of the others were never found, only a few skeletal remains that were half buried in dead leaves.
The search stopped after just two weeks as they found nobody else.

The six skeletons were taken to the morgue, the resulting cause of death was unexpected.
There were human teeth marks along every inch of bone, fracturing them in some places.
It had only been fifteen days since the incident occurred.

It begged the question - where were the others?
The village had a resident population of around 5,000, not including any visitors.
Out of the fifty-odd surviving residents, a team of four went back to find the rest.

The main road was deserted, the ground covered in brambles - trees even sprung from a few houses.
As the group made their way towards the village's town hall they noticed there was no birdsong.
The only sound was the rustling of leaves as the wind barrelled through the streets.

Every now-and-then they swore the whistling of the wind was human-made.
The roads looked too clogged with foliage for them to make their way to anywhere.
As they stood debating, one spotted a still-warm thermos hanging from a low branch.

The debate turned to argument as they asked if another team had come before then.
It was impossible, the other forty-six had refused.
Yet this freshly made coffee tempted them with the idea of survivors and the fame for finding them.

Minds made up, they ended up wading through sharp, thorny branches as they headed ever forward.
One swore as he felt something grab his knee, pulling him down.
The sound of screams and noisy eating filled for near-quiet road as the others tried to flee.

They had never been alone, the village was never abandoned.
They all adapted and began to wait.
The number of  survivors dropped to forty-six and the village was sealed off to be forgotten.