XXX: Predators and Prey

We came to the settlement that once belonged to Harper.

There were hunters outside, far more than I have ever taken on at once. They were in the process of tearing down the drywall so they could enter the settlement and devour the people inside. I could tell by the moss overgrowing their backs, the mud caking their hair, and the ferocity with which they used makeshift axes to destroy the settlement walls that they were no longer human.

I turned to Harper and Samuel. Harper told us to leave, but neither of us did so. I told her that we would not abandon her. Samuel drew his pocket knife, while I took out a dagger Harper had made for me from stone and rope. She sighed, readied her pistol, and aimed it at the fungal back of one of the hunters. Then she fired.

The hunter fell. The rest turned to stare at us, and I realized then whose faces they had stolen.

They were the clan who had sheltered me. Just this month, they had allowed me to walk among them. But I had to leave in the end, knowing they would kill me for wanting to leave the Forest, knowing they would believe I might infect the outside world. It was that paranoia that turned them, I think. It is no great feat for fear to turn to hatred, for distrust to turn to violence.

Their faces were covered in flies and plant matter. Their mouths were stained with blood.

They were fast. They were armed with stone axes, flint spears, scavenged guns. They were upon us quickly. We were surrounded.

My scar spiked into pain as stabbed the hunter that had once been Trevor Geist. He had once been the father of a woman whose corpse I had to bury. I had neither the time nor the presence of mind to look down at my belly, but I was certain the scar had grown in branches.

A panicked violence overtook me, and I stabbed another hunter. This one had been called Elizabeth Geist. The more corpses whose motion I stopped, the worse the pain grew. Finally, I screamed out in agony. I could kill no more.

But there were still a dozen hunters left, and Harper and Samuel were nearly as incapacitated as I was. Their scars were growing to cover more and more of their bodies as their faces contorted in agony.

One of the hunters suddenly fell to the ground, its eyes widened and a bullet hole through its chest. As its corpse twitched, I saw standing behind it Clint Robinson holding a pistol.

More hunters fell. I saw survivors all around, surrounding the ring of hunters and slaying each of them in turn. Finally, the last hunter fell.

As I saw how many people had banded together to save us, the scar stopped hurting.

Once again, we are setting out to leave the Forest. This time, I believe it will work.