Day 2,187

 We buried them deep enough that our water supply became contaminated within minutes, deep enough to buy ourselves time to think of a long-lasting solution, deep enough that they might know the peace their existence denies us. We could have buried them at the very heart of the world and it still wouldn't be deep enough to stop them clawing towards the sky.

They used to be our children, once upon a time. I never liked that phrase "once upon a time". It was too vague, too flimsy and now it's too painful. None of us want to think about the lost generation, none of us want it to happen again but every healthy birth is another mmonster we'll have to bury before they're strong enough to kill us all.

Even when you take people out of the equation and combine anonymous donors who have never had children before, the offspring develop as a perfectly normal human foetus for about four months. Then some little switch in the DNA gets flicked and it goes downhill from there.

I used to be naive enough to think that we could find that little switch and just flick it back or remove it entirely but it seem we've always had it. It seems that the switch is so heavily ingrained within our DNA that removing it sends the rest of the body into a state of rapid decay and leads to a brutal death in a matter of minutes.

So for now we're trying to remove the switch in utero. Trying and failing and trying again while the ground outside tremble with all the little ones we've born and buried and buried again because they just won't stop clawing at the earth to claw at our skin and kill their makers.