The Medusa Strain (WIP 2020)

Prologue

It had become a matter of basic survival in the new world after the bombs fell.

Man versus man.

Man versus nature.

Man versus self.

The vicious cycle of life would always repeat itself with each and every cataclysmic event.

The weak would perish. The strong would survive and give birth to a new and terrifying reality.

Usually...that's how it would go.

Except...

Something went wrong during the last exchange.

The very last few groups of people still left in their bunkers or arks found themselves at the mercy of nature. Of myths. Of legends long since forgotten since the dawn of civilization.

It had been a near thing, a most fortunate and specious turn of luck that would have one person–a woman–to lead them all to a new hope. New salvation.

Some would call it paradise.

But the stories of old, foretold in the Bible and other historical formats never foresaw the kinds of changes that would transform the world into a fight for every day survival.

This new world went far beyond was conventionally told in so many post-apocalyptic fairy tales. But what happened next...was no fairy tale.

But the advent of a new dawn for a race of beings that nobody had seen since ancient times. And it was they who laid down the law of the land in this new era.

And it was from here, that so many of the world's Children would learn that there was some things in nature and in myth that was never meant to be tampered with from the very beginning.

Because some legends had a habit of repeating themselves from one generation to the next–even if the intent was not at fault.

This was one of them.

And this was a curse laid bare upon the women of humanity's children. And it was here that mankind learned to fear and quake, shiver, and cry out for a god's mercy.

But this was not mercy.

This was justice.