Eikeella
I woke up in a city I had never known existed.
It has markets overflowing with food, rows of identical houses, and a library filled with my favorite books. Every street and building seems made to anticipate my every need, as if someone had built this city just for me. But beyond the tall buildings, layers of walls enclose the entire city. The walls are high and smooth, keeping the outside out and us trapped in.
Someone told me I had been found near the wall, barely breathing, fortunate enough to make it inside before the city was permanently sealed. They say I should be grateful. Everyone inside the city is. After all, we are what remains of humanity.
Beyond the walls, bodies lie torn open, and a fog that never lifts covers everything. At night, the scratching begins, like something tracing the walls with sharp claws. Then comes the impact against the gates, followed by low, guttural roars that sound like whatever is out there is trying to remember how to be human.
But I've noticed things others pretend not to.
The guards don't watch what is trying to get inside. They watch us.
I don't know how any of this started, but I know I don't like how it's going.