We ate until our stomachs ached, until our skin felt too tight to hold us together, until all we felt was nausea. We thought that keeping hunger at bay meant keeping us safe but one-by-one our friends and neighbours fell and our isolated little community shrank to twelve of us, all hidden away in the catacombs beneath town hall.
We'd hoped the others wouldn't be able to smell us among all the bones we used to barricade ourselves in and all the rats we'd killed to fill in the gaps. The food should have lasted us for months but after the first night one of us was already turning.
He said his head hurt and when one of us went to look they confirmed that branches were already coming out of his scalp. From there it would be a three day descent into agony as more and more branches would sprout until hi head was little more than a mess of rust-coloured sticks and a snapping mouth.
After the transformation is finished their first instinct is to lash out at the closest piece of meat, spreading the contagion and feeding the host. We thought he might go for all the rats, their blood was all we could smell down there.
He went for his son instead - blood seeking blood - and tore his little throat wide open. The rest of us fled for deeper tunnels but I hung back, I'd been feeling an itch beneath my scalp so I figured I'd end up next anyway. I saw more branches shoot out from his son's severed neck and understood.
We were already good a dead, we should have waited for the others to free us.
We'd hoped the others wouldn't be able to smell us among all the bones we used to barricade ourselves in and all the rats we'd killed to fill in the gaps. The food should have lasted us for months but after the first night one of us was already turning.
He said his head hurt and when one of us went to look they confirmed that branches were already coming out of his scalp. From there it would be a three day descent into agony as more and more branches would sprout until hi head was little more than a mess of rust-coloured sticks and a snapping mouth.
After the transformation is finished their first instinct is to lash out at the closest piece of meat, spreading the contagion and feeding the host. We thought he might go for all the rats, their blood was all we could smell down there.
He went for his son instead - blood seeking blood - and tore his little throat wide open. The rest of us fled for deeper tunnels but I hung back, I'd been feeling an itch beneath my scalp so I figured I'd end up next anyway. I saw more branches shoot out from his son's severed neck and understood.
We were already good a dead, we should have waited for the others to free us.
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