22

You can move your hands now. You push the top of the freezer open, haul yourself out, and drop silently to the ground. Your Hunger is an ache in the back of your gums that leads right up behind your eyes that threatens to turn into a migraine. You can hold off the Beast a few more nights like this, but you'll need to feed soon.

You wander past dusty and empty shelves and glance outside through gaps in the boarded-up windows. Yarrk patrols, nose snuffling at the broken linoleum tiles. You can't see that strange eagle, but you still smell blood. It's faded, but impossible to ignore. Movement catches your eye, but it's just your reflection in the broken glass of an empty display case. You stare into the eyes of a haunted-looking, eternally young…