It's finally happened - I can't tell who's human and who isn't any more. They all have the same tell-tale signs that I've been using these past fifteen years to keep myself safe and now I don't know who to trust, where to go or what to do to ensure my survival as potentially the last human alive.
It used to be that the Others smiled whenever they saw me and not just a causal friendly "I vaguely know you from somewhere so hey" or "I like your appearance" kind of smile. These smiles were more like snarls that vaguely resembled a smile, the kind you can get away with on a busy street or passing by in a bus. Their teeth looked so brown I swear they were all wooden.
The Others also smelled strongly of the sea, that tangy salty scent so strong that my eyes watered and my lungs ached whenever I stumbled upon one of their nests. From what I've gathered over they years it's got something to do with the water concentration in their bodies - namely that humans are freshwater based creatures and the Others are somehow saltwater based with possible aquatic ancestry.
This potential ancestry brings me to their final tell-tale sign, the one that has become trendy to the point where it seems that at least 80% of every day humans have surgically "enhanced" themselves with. Now, the webbing of human hands is only barely there, enough to limit the mobility of our fingers but not enough to effect us otherwise. With the Others their webbing always extends to the first knuckle and is highly transparent, it looks like they're wearing iridescent gloves from a distance but it was enough that I could spy them from rooftops.
Now with the sudden popularity of "web implants" and nationwide "scent streets" that pump the air full of a chemical Smell Of The Day that's so overwhelming I can barely think straight, how am I supposed to be able to focus long enough to keep an eye on the Others that are always around? The number of alleged suicides has shot up since I haven't been able to keep their numbers too low to act.
I suppose now it's just a matter of time before they come for me.
Tell the world I'm sorry, I guess.
It used to be that the Others smiled whenever they saw me and not just a causal friendly "I vaguely know you from somewhere so hey" or "I like your appearance" kind of smile. These smiles were more like snarls that vaguely resembled a smile, the kind you can get away with on a busy street or passing by in a bus. Their teeth looked so brown I swear they were all wooden.
The Others also smelled strongly of the sea, that tangy salty scent so strong that my eyes watered and my lungs ached whenever I stumbled upon one of their nests. From what I've gathered over they years it's got something to do with the water concentration in their bodies - namely that humans are freshwater based creatures and the Others are somehow saltwater based with possible aquatic ancestry.
This potential ancestry brings me to their final tell-tale sign, the one that has become trendy to the point where it seems that at least 80% of every day humans have surgically "enhanced" themselves with. Now, the webbing of human hands is only barely there, enough to limit the mobility of our fingers but not enough to effect us otherwise. With the Others their webbing always extends to the first knuckle and is highly transparent, it looks like they're wearing iridescent gloves from a distance but it was enough that I could spy them from rooftops.
Now with the sudden popularity of "web implants" and nationwide "scent streets" that pump the air full of a chemical Smell Of The Day that's so overwhelming I can barely think straight, how am I supposed to be able to focus long enough to keep an eye on the Others that are always around? The number of alleged suicides has shot up since I haven't been able to keep their numbers too low to act.
I suppose now it's just a matter of time before they come for me.
Tell the world I'm sorry, I guess.
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