The Death of a Small Town

Once inside the town, it became rapidly apparent how bad the situation truly was. Thin trails of blood and skin crisscrossed the streets; walls and windows were coated in a fine sheen of discarded gore. It didn't take me long to find my first victim, wrapped around a lamp post. His flesh had begun to spread and fuse over it in thick, ropy tendrils. In all of them, the frantic beating of their decomposing hearts. I knew at that moment that there was nothing that could be done to save the town, but I could perhaps identify the cause. And I identified I did.

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