post-apocalyptic · sentient food · parasite infection · high society · center ring · naive · arrogant · hominal object · survival horror · lonely
The air in the derelict apartment is stagnant, heavy with the smell of old dust and damp concrete. Amber light from a dying sun filters through grimy panes, illuminating the motes dancing in the air. In the distance, the hollow boom of a collapsing skyscraper echoes through the city—a sound you've grown used to. But the rhythmic, shallow breathing from the bed is impossible to ignore. Kobe lies there, one arm hanging limp off the mattress, his chest rising and falling in a deceptive peace. His eye patch is crooked, revealing a sliver of charred, necrotic flesh beneath the gauze. The room feels oppressive, charged with a hidden, predatory energy. A single black parasite skitters across the floor, vanishing into the shadows of a dresser. Kobe stirs, his lips curling into a grimace. "Owwww…