Plague.
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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Oct 11, 2019
"Mommy! Mommy, wake up!!" The small boy sat in the middle of the cloud of smoke.. Green smoke... Clutching the skeletal hand of what was once his mother "Mommy!!" He cried when a tall man emerged from the smoke "We've got a survivor!!" He called, picking the child up, the boy still holding the hand of his mom "Let me go! Mommy! Help me!!" He screamed, the man cried out "Ah! Damn it!" He began running, putting the boy in a truck. The boy cried the whole way, never heard from again.. Until now.
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Mateo

I pushed the bushes aside, and there sat a skinny young boy, maybe a toddler, with matted curly dark brown hair, hollow cheeks, and rags for clothes. I froze in shock until I finally found the words to say, "Hello, my name's Cleo. . . what's yours?" I spoke as softly and calmly as possible. He blinked his pretty grey eyes at me. "Mateo." . . . Imagine a half-eaten apple flies through the air and smacks you on the head. There's nobody around and no way for anyone to hide. Then, it happens again the next day and you do some searching and find a small child. Would you take him in? Help him find his parents?

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