You awake, your head pounding.
It is dark.
You remember nothing.
to your surroundings
You are dressed in dark robes.You are wearing a tank top and a miniskirt.
You are spattered with blood.
It is still dark.
are very cold.
to your surroundings
Blood drips from pipes far overhead into a bucket.
You hear a fluid dripping nearby.
It splashes like it's falling into some sort ofor tank.
You realize you are incredibly hungry and thirsty.
You grope for a bucket. Maybe there's water—
Your shaking hand finds the bucket and it spills violently. You feel a thick liquid splash against your skin. You smell—
Your clothes and skin and splattered with blood.
You fumble for your pockets. You prod at unyielding fabric for a moment before realizing you're still wearing your miniskirt with the fake pocke—
You begin to.
It's difficult, like the memories don't want to come back. When they do, they come in flashes. They don't feel like yours.
It was a police raid.
A press of bodies, huddled against the wall. A roar as the packs filled the street like an endless tide of teeth and claws.
A few unlucky people who had stepped out for a smoke were taken. A few neighbors, out staring at the sky, ignoring the warnings bleating out from the radio. Some children, out past curfew. Their blood streaked the streets.
The police are never clean, but they've been especially vicious since the mating season started.
But they weren't here for. They were after .
You know you knew once. Your memories point at it, the links are all still there, but the thing they're pointing at isn't. Like there's a hole in the middle of your memory, a hole as dark and wrong as the.
It feels like something was ripped out of your head.
Your heart begins racing.
"Do not look at the sky."
Somewhere a radio was tuned to Approved News 6. For two hours it broadcast the same advisory. "Do not look at the sky." The ever-shifting voice of the announcer had taken on unusual tones of urgency. "Loyal citizens are urgently advised to avoid observing the sky."
There were no stars. There was no moon. There was only emptiness—
There was something else.
You can hear your heart thumping in your chest.
People shouting, laughing, dancing, kissing. A cute girl you laid your eyes on longingly,
There was music.
It was small. The walls were tan.
Could have been any house.
Except for that.
The thought is physically painful. You struggle not to vomit.
There wasn't anything right about, not with that thing and .
Who was she?
You remember her face, her body. Freckled, slim, sexy, ruthless—
The way she danced was almost inhuman.
she knew she knew