✖ anxiety attack: 000.1 ✖ After the End ✖

[wolfishsurvivalist]

The first few months had been numb. One day bleeding into the next in a bitter chill, the fog occasionally turning to sleet or snow, with nothing but the groaning of the building and the dead to break the silences. Even the puppy had grown docile, subdued by the oppressive nature of the place itself. For weeks she stumbled through the decaying town, wondering when it would send her away even as she continued to scavenge for food and extra blankets before her winter coat grew in. It was sparser than before, the scars so bad the fur could barely grow out leaving large patches of skin still exposed to the cold. Dead nerves or not, she knew she'd need extra cover, but finding something that wasn't mold-ridden or soaked in grime and gore was a huge undertaking.

Somehow she managed to survive the winter. She could barely remember it, too many days wasted away on a couch with the lonely puppy curled tight against her side. Winter became a gloomy spring, which turned quickly to summer and fall. Still she stumbled through the town, gathering more rolls of tape, feeding the crows that helped her, slowly crumbling to the fact that she was trapped and would never escape.

The town was feeding off of her until it could find someone new.

Or at least she was sure of that, but what would happen to her when it did find someone, she didn't know. There was only so much she could take before she knew her mind would snap completely, and letting the town break her would only be letting it win.

She had to do something, and soon.