𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 | c. grimes

00. "somewhere in the woods"

PROLOGUE -
"SOMEWHERE IN THE WOODS"

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MONSTERS ARE REAL.

They linger in the shadows of the world with each passing step. Their jaws snap violently, craving flesh and blood amidst the chaos erupting in the world. Their limbs decay with the slow passing of time, marking a passage between life and death — one which had been broken, abiding the law of nature and engulfing the world into a sea of despair.

Yes, they exist. At least now, they do.

BLAIRE SHEILDS is stuck in a time bubble. A meaningless void where she can't tell whether she's still breathing or not. It feels like fire against her delicate skin, prone to scarring her permanently as the flames dawdle around her mind and body, prone to ultimately ruining her. Beside the inferno stood a lifeline – a source of alleviation in spite of the world's ruthless state: Jane Sheilds. Their bond, through blood, only deepened when the siblings came to the agonizing conclusion that they were the only ones in their family left alive. Not reanimated. Not buried somewhere in the woods. But alive.

Their presence is marked by the soft sound of footsteps on the unpaved road, boots colliding against the surface while they continue to walk, lacking direction and purpose. Blaire is certain that if she stops in her tracks, she won't be able to regain the strength of continuation. Patience is a necessity, but for a thirteen year old – it's merely unrenowned, unsung on her young lips.

Solidarity is outlandish in this twisted version of the Earth. Behind them stands a hoard of the monsters, the biters humanity fears to no end. The noise of their groaning and moaning trembles through the air, making the girl's heart stutter with sheer terror. She is scared, rightfully so. The role of an older, bolder role-model for Jane has long been discarded as the rate of their survival thins. One thing is very clear – people like Blaire and Jane don't survive in a world like this. Against all rules, they had made it this far, but the promise of the two clinging to their lives for much longer was nothing but shallow, laced with uncertainty.

The girls moved weakly, exhausted by the weight of the road as the threats behind them only grew faster, catching up to them in a matter of seconds. The ghostly breath fanning on Blaire's neck was enough to let her know that death was near – impending doom. Perhaps it had all been rigged from the very start. Her lips are cracked in dehydration. Blaire's body is limp and frail, alike the biters standing behind them, starved to no end by the rations of the food they had to make. Her clothes are ragged and dirty, loose against her skin as the crunch of her muddy boots hits the dirt on the ground, leaving a trail of footsteps behind.

A cry leaves her lips, clawing its way out of her throat before she even processed what was going on. A lone biter, ahead of the hoard – got ahold of Blaire, gripping her hair and pulling her behind, the intention to rip her flesh apart clearly. She shakes in anguish, fighting against the grip as the wretcheness of the situation lingered. The teenager can feel the monster's breath fanning over her neck, groaning in despair as her pulse quickened, blood running in her veins and magnifying the hunger of the creature.

"Jane—!"

"Blaire!"

Jane yells, misery written on her childish face as she hurries to take the knife in her bag and save her sibling's life. Or else, she will be alone. Utterly alone until the end of time.