Post by JINX on Jul 11, 2010 14:35:30 GMT -5
the sweetest dream will never do.
You remember the mail man coming down the street every morning, the glory of running water, the warmth of being able to sleep comfortably in your own bed. That is all now a dream.
What happened on that fateful day is unknown. All anybody remembers about it is the blinding, fearsome heat; and afterwards, the gruesome remains of what was once the human race.
We're all so sick now. Scattered, divided, slaughtered by our own foolish mortality. The day that heat came, so blinding; it was like someone was trying to clean up our mess, but instead just destroyed everything to threshold of death. Teasing us with the salvation of eternal sleep. Most of us wish that The Heat would have killed us, along with our already-dead loved ones; but death does not come, and we're all too afraid to bring it ourselves.
Rogues roam the Wastelands. Humans that survived the radiation as we did, but instead were modified, enhanced... Corrupted. The rogues thirst for our blood, and can change one us into one of them. Like a post-apocalyptic vampire, only far, far worse; more bloody, so intensely carnivorous that having a shotgun by the bed doesn't make us feel any better. They are capabable of human thought, yes -- and that makes them all the more frightening.
But the slayers, once just survivors like ourselves, have banded together to fight and fend off the rogues from us. They dedicate themselves to killing the rogues and keeping us alive; but what are they really doing it for? Our safety? Or... Bloodshed?
Nothing makes sense anymore. This sickness, this insanity, clouds our judgement until we cannot see anymore.