A Hunger For The Past

Everyone knew that after Little Boy was dropped in Hiroshima, the world would never be the same again. War had changed. Gone were the infantry and cavalry of old. Governments now scrambled to arm themselves with these weapons of mass-destruction. Everyone wanted the biggest stick in the fight, and yet none wanted to truly use it. An ever-looming threat of extinction hid behind the bravado of men in suits; snake oil salesmen with crocodile boots and smiles to match. Countries held their breath as fingers poised on doomsday devices, all locked in a sinister stalemate that would only end in misery. It was almost a bitter relief when the first button was finally pushed.

The fallout that followed caused an evolution that was unprecedented. Now, monsters emerged from where people once lived. These new bombs were bio-chemical in nature, and did much more damage than man could have perceived. Those that didn’t die in the blast radius, mutated. These changes happened in weeks, rather than generations. People became warped beyond imagination, reverting to primal instinct and hunting once-fellow man as food.

Welcome to the New World.

***

Ripping into her flesh, it began to gorge itself on the dying remains of this survivor. Soft gurgling noises came from behind her gas mask as, with her dying breath, she was probably cussing out the creature that was killing her. Not like it cared. This was the first meal it had gotten since... Well, since it could remember. Not that it could remember much, aside from the painful hunger that kept gnawing at its stomach. The constant need to feed.

As it slurped away at the still-warm corpse, its beady eyes roamed over the house it found itself in. How did it get here? That’s right, it had smelt tears and anguish. Prey had been inside, along a street that hadn’t seemed like the rest. The normally welcoming front door had quickly been obliterated to matchwood; hardly any effort was needed to get inside, then drown out her screams as it hunted.

Curiosity led it to the wall on its right. The wallpaper was a nauseous yellow; faded and splattered with the blood of the dead woman. Perhaps once, it had been inviting, but now just looked the colour of vomit. Hanging up were three picture frames, in various orders of disarray. The wood on one had splintered, dropping the picture that it must have once held. Another had a fracture across the glass; the spiderweb cracks blocking the scene of whatever memory lay behind it. The final, however, looked untouched.

It showed three people, beaming at the camera like one big, happy family. What drew its attention the most was the man, standing tall in camouflage, holding a small girl on his hip. He was in good shape, plenty of meat to eat on him. The daughter would barely be a mouthful. Beside them stood a woman. The prey... Her arm looped around the man. He was supposed to be her protector. Where is he now?

Although haunting in some way, the still image was not exciting enough to capture the creature’s attention for too long. Once again, its gaze wandered and, with a sudden jolt, it thought that it might have to defend its meal from another monster. Opposite him crouched a rival, as hungry and bloodthirsty as itself. After a brief moment of snarling to claim its quarry, it calmed. It wasn’t another beast at all, just a mirror. Sunken eyes it had mistaken for a foe stared back in disapproval. Blood dripped down over stained and bleached flesh, covering up the puss-riddled blisters that pulsed beneath the hairless surface, threatening to burst at any minute. Seeing them felt like the burning all over again; what caused its “evolution”.

Shuddering at the sudden memory, its head drooped to look at the floor. The survivor (or maybe more aptly now, its meal) had dropped something large and silver when she’d been knocked to the floor. The creature had seen things like this before. Loud, exploding machines that hurt when it got in the way of the blast. What was more interesting however, was the gold necklace attached to the end. Shifting away from its kill for a moment, the creature reached out one pale, bony hand to drag it closer. It was so very small. So very delicate. It was not unlike the human, whose brittle bones had snapped with no difficulty under its weight.

It didn’t want to touch the gun for longer than it had to, so taking off the chain, it tossed away the weapon and looked over the pretty thing that had caught its eye. There was a hunk of metal in the middle, a heart that swayed with its movements like a pendulum. It liked this thing. It wasn’t food (biting it was going to hurt its teeth, so no thank you to even trying), but how it looked in its hands. It made it feel... Something.

Why were his hands so ruined? The tips of his fingers were bone, flesh nibbled away to sate the hunger deep inside. It made him sick to look at. How could one mutilate themselves so badly, on such an important body part? The taste of blood in his mouth was cloying; overwhelming in all the wrong ways. He could remember holding delicate things like this locket before, in strong, steady hands that had protected, rather than destroyed. What had happened to him?

There was a creak above its head. The monster blinked away the strange thoughts and raised its head to sniff the air. That smell, tears and anguish yes, but also sugar and spice? With the cooling corpse now forgotten, it began to slowly stalk up the stairs, dragging gangly limbs behind it. Could it be more prey hiding within this home?

There was a soft whimper behind the end door. Salivating profusely, it crept closer; it hoped that this human did not have a gun either, because those things hurt. All that stood between it and its prey was a short hall and one wooden door. A white door with flecks of pink. A pretty door, with little purple flowers dotted over it. The excitement was overwhelming. The anticipation tasted sweet...

Closing the distance, it pressed its clawed hands against the pretty surface. This door wasn’t even locked! It wasn’t a proper match to its strength, not like the front door had been. At least that had made the feast more enjoyable, knowing that it had earned it through its prowess. Feeling annoyed, it heard a tapping, as the locket swung hopelessly into the doorframe. For a moment, it was distracted by the golden chain intertwined with its fingers. It catches the light so nicely up here. Shiny and pure, like the love it once represented... What was this? A thought? Or maybe a memory...

Carefully, it touched the heart on the locket. It knew that it would open, knew that there was something important inside. Running its ruined finger along the edge, it found the small clasp holding it shut. With all the care that the creature could muster, it unhinged the mechanism and opened the tiny container. Unlocking the heart bought forward thoughts that had been buzzing around its head since the picture frame. Upon seeing what lay inside, seeing the memories, perhaps he would have cried. He wanted to feel that emotion again, if he could.

Another whine snaps it back to the now. It was rude to keep prey waiting.

As the door creaked open, it was greeted with the sight of that small girl from the picture. Now scruffy blonde hair instead of the carefully plaited locks from that memory; stained overalls instead of the spotless summer dress. She was clutching a battered teddy like it would keep her safe. Safe from the monsters under her bed, in her wardrobe, at her doorway. Tears swam in her eyes as she looked at the distortion of humanity, standing tall before her.

“Daddy?”