There are things hiding in this Forest. They are not those who form
their own tiny societies, trying in vain to stave off the Forest's
influence and pretend to still be human. No, they stalk the landscape of
what was once Seattle and hunt down those they view as prey. They are
covered in moss and plant matter, and they eat the flesh of those they
can.
I had a run-in with a hunter earlier today. I heard it move behind me in
the underbrush. I turned around as I drew my pistol, but it still
looked human, and I faltered. That was before I saw the patch of fungal
growth around its mouth, the knife of shattered rock bound to a lump of
wood it carried in its hand. I backed away, but it slashed me across the
chest. I shot it- once, twice, three times. It twitched each time, and
it finally stopped moving just as the deafness from the gunshots faded
out.
I know it wasn't human. But if the Forest could make me human again,
couldn't EAT have progressed something like that, brought it to our
level?
It does not matter. As soon as I'm done recovering from my wounds in
this makeshift shelter, I need to keep moving. I have to run faster than
the Forest grows if I am to avoid becoming something like what I killed
today.
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