As the world collapsed in on itself, ordinary people turned to beasts.

The common folk were not always cruel in their behaviour, but they were animal in their desperation. It was a necessary way to survive, banding together to wage pack warfare over the greatest places to live and loot. For others, it was to scavenge the dead and the abandoned, playing as vultures in the wake of tribal war. Unfortunate souls, injured and abandoned, laid suffering in the aftermath as they waited to be relieved of their scant scraps of clothing. After gunfire sang its temptations, a smouldering battlefield would always attract as many survivors as it scared off.



Somewhere among the twisted skeletons of surface rubble, an office building sat derelict. It had been a contested area for some time, for its tactical position on a humble hill that sat above the morbid deadlands. An unknown and unseen group had come to seek shelter there, scaring off the wasteland rogues with grizzly traps and makeshift barriers. The bandits that once warred in the surrounds came to turn jealous eyes towards this cozy nook, as the strangers skirted the bickering groups to gather and hoard supplies.

Ever since, many waves had come against the defenses, and each and every one had failed. The tactical advantage had had proven too good, and the people were scarcely seen. The clans each took personal insult, as they vowed a change to come.

The brutal futility continued for many months. Eventually, the banditry had suffered enough, and directed their simmering rage into a plan. The forces slowly came together, in a tenuous truce offering the chance at what wealth might lay in that mysterious base.

The denizens were finally ready. The attack began on an unremarkable afternoon, with still air and a cloud-speckled sky.



The outburst was abrupt. In a chilling instant, gunfire poured down from the central floors, where the strangers were holed. Their surveillance had seen the unmissable sight of swarming troops, scurrying into the cover of that lone apartment. The gruesome sounds of war had cut through the silence.

The floors above were lit with thunderous explosions, which rumbled over a background symphony of crackling of gunfire and bloodthirsty cries of war. It lasted for maddening hours, never slowing, until the day began to wane. All the while, the source of carnage crept slowly upwards through the floors. Upon the third and final floor, a last stand was made, and ended with the most tremendous roars of all. It lasted only minutes.

From outside, the waiting forces slowly came to realise the roar had become a cheer. The gangsters had broken through, and looting quickly began among the survivors of the front-line forces. Warlords pushed these scurrying soldiers about, vying for the greatest treasures. Before many clansfolk knew the battle was over, pillagers had already begun to evacuate with their spoils.



Afterwards, the gruesome battle was evident. The paths and valleys surrounding around the apartment ran thick with dozens and dozens of shredded corpses. Many limp bodies had fallen down the steep drops, into the chasms of upturned earth and twisted corporate steel below. Bodies of raiders littered three floors, and the crumbling stairwell between. A combined mob of unruly warriors had overcome the defenses not with cunning, or wit, or patient observation. They had simply overwhelmed it with pure force of numbers, and it showed.

Less than an hour later, the silence that followed was ghostly. Many clans had a habit of executing the wounded of their enemies and their brethren, for various reasons – So the floors sat still.



The final floor was where the bodies of those scant defenders rested, crowning the sea of dead. It was obvious why the raiders had abandoned the place: Whatever guarded entrance had crumbled into an absolute mess, leaving exposed an entire wall of the office wing with no rear escape. This wing had housed the now useless hideaway, and had been torn apart in a hasty search for anything of practical worth. In the ruins of what was once a living area, the bodies of this unknown group were obvious. These fallen people were heavily mutilated by the rage of their assailants, and the intact parts showed a difference in clothing. This group seemed professionally dressed, compared to the psychobilly rags that clothed the tribes.

In the search for anything that remained, one thing had obviously changed since the chaos had settled. A door sat ajar, framing the untouched interior of a hidden supply closet. No doubt, it would have been stripped bare if it was seen by the raiders.

Inside, it seemed to be a personal hideaway – the space cramped with shelves of trinkets and junk, circling around a central bed. Upon that bed, under a pale blue light, a battered creature sat sprawled over on his back. Bandages and blood covered the form that was partially, and hurriedly, unclothed. Ingeniously, the hacked-up little mattress was set upon a scissor mechanism, which must have been used to lift its access to the many levels of shelves. At the moment, it was stopped upon one that housed the medical supplies, which littered the space around. It seemed as if the furred beast hadn’t managed to complete the task, falling unconscious before it could. The only telling sign that the little devil had escaped death was a small medical device upon its slender arm, which displayed a summary of vital stats upon its screen – including a slow but steady heartbeat.



Outside, the world would continue on.

Not too soon after this phenomenon of war, the individual clans would come to remember their greed and their differences. In the same vein of irony that pulsed all human failure, they would soon tear each other to pieces fighting over the spoils. Each clan was decimated by a resulting conflict that raged through the valley, burning through all they had won. After that, the flame of bitter resentment went out, having swiftly burnt itself to death.

The clans had been torn apart, and were poorer than before they had begun. Only a spattering of these glorious tribes were to remain; Having hidden from the conflict, or conquered enough to escape alive. In the coming weeks, these broken survivors would fragment and scatter to the winds. It would take days for any outsiders to dare to enter the savage grounds.



None of the tribal warriors had thought to return to the crumbling shelter. Untouched by their spiteful hands, the beast upon the mattress suffered days of fevered sleep. And then, the creature's rest was over.

With a wheezing gasp, two obsidian eyes flicked open in shock.