Night 1

The nights are the worst. No one can get any sleep. Every waking moment feels like a nightmare in itself. There are few who venture outside in the darkness; they're the bravest of us all. Most of us, however, cower in fear of beaten consumed. It's an eat-or-be-eaten world out there, and many don't have the stomach to inflict the pain.

The streets are quiet. The houses are quiet. No matter where we are, we stay silent. We don't want anyone to know where we are, and we want to keep the element of surprise on our side. At the very yeast, we don't want to risk the chance of being cornered by those bastards on the other side. We stay as hidden as possible. This is every night. This is our living hell.


The morning comes. The sunrise offers a small sigh of relief. There have been no screams this night. For the first time in weeks, no one has perished. We don't know whether to celebrate or stay worried. Why would they stop? It doesn't make sense to us, but we decide not to dwell on it. Regardless of the "peace" we attained this past night, we must continue on in our fight. We must fight for our survival. As day dawns, we must select a bread to crush. Barbaric as it may be, it is necessary.

Today, someone must die.