I wasn't quite sure where I was, but then again, I never was.
I don't remember much, but I recall being in a room with some sort of cotton rectangle. I remember hearing someone scream 'Issak' at me so I just assumed that was what people called me back when I was alive. I don't remember why I'm here in this city or why I travel in packs with weird squid people. All I know is that I'm a bit different from the rest of my kind. All of them have disgusting squid faces with slimy skin, razor sharp fangs, and long, brown limbs with claws. I don't have those. I recall looking into a window one day a few weeks back–not too long after I became like this–and thinking that I wasn't like the rest of the creatures.
I saw a man with long black hair in dreadlocks and chocolate brown skin that looked a bit too unhealthy to be normal. That's another thing I do differently. I can think. The rest of my kind don't do that. They rely on their animal instincts to drive them. They hear something and they attack. It's the way they were programmed. The only thing I have in common with them is that I, too, attack humans for nutrients. It's our food source. I don't enjoy it, but I can tell that the rest of the squid people do. That's another thing I have that they don't––guilt.
Suddenly, one of my brothers (if I can even call them that) stumbles into me and falls to the ground. I glared at it, annoyed that it couldn't just walk around me. Then I sigh and remember that the rest of my kind don't have those kinds of skills. I recall a time where I tried to converse with one of my kind, but I received a blank stare in return.
Hearing a scream for help, I look to my right, seeing a horde of creatures devouring a human. I inwardly sigh at the sight. I pitied the humans that fell victim to the squid people, but I knew that there was nothing I could do to help the ones that were attacked by them. I mean, I could try–which I've done before–but my body never listens to me properly, and so I ended up joining the Mossers (I had heard a human call them that not too long ago).
What could I have done? I was hungry and there was a defenseless human right there in front of me. It was the perfect opportunity. But that was just my Mosser side talking. My human side–at least that's what I assumed it was–wanted to cease the devouring and try to find a way to live without eating humans. But I knew that was impossible because I needed to eat to survive and I didn't want to die again.
I looked at one of my brethren–one that was just aimlessly wandering around–and I noticed big chunks of its body were missing. Probably from when it, too, was attacked and turned. I looked down at my more human body, also noticing multiple lacerations scattered across my body. Those most likely got there when I was killed. They all looked pretty disgusting, but at least I wasn't some strange squid man. I stopped to look at my surroundings, noticing that the falling snow has stuck to the ground in large clumps.
I assume that because of the freezing temperatures, the few surviving humans down south are avoiding places like this in the far north. So maybe that's why the population of Mossers around here has begun to dwindle. In my opinion, somewhere cold and with small numbers of Mossers would be the ideal base for the humans. I let out a strangled gurgle that was supposed to be a sigh before beginning another aimless trek through the town, searching for anything I could possibly feast upon.
It must've been about five hours later that I finally heard the sound of a human. More like, the engine of a speeding car, which meant humans. Not wanting to be seen, I hid behind a wall of a nearby building. I spied on the humans as the black truck came to a stop right outside of a Starbucks. Weird place to stop, I thought, but I'm not one to judge. I watched as the driver of the truck, a man with dark chocolate hair, jumped out of the truck before reaching back in and pulling out a very scary looking rifle. I would not want to be shot with that. The man looked at someone else witting in the truck, and with my enhanced Mosser hearing, I could hear everything they said.
"Tasha, stay here and watch over the truck," I heard the man with the gun say.
"I know. And you have to make sure to get me hot chocolate," someone from the inside of the truck says. Did that other man say his name was Tasha?
While I was lost in thought, the chocolate haired man had ventured off into the Starbucks, leaving this Tasha man all by himself. I hadn't seen a human that wasn't being devoured in a long time and I was rather curious to see what this man was like. I began to carefully make my way over to the passengers side of the truck. I didn't want to be seen and shot so I stayed crouched down, just low enough not to be spotted, but I could still see inside the window.
Wanting to sneak a peek, I stood up a bit, enough that I could see over the window. I moved my right foot to get closer to the vehicle, but I accidently placed my food on a rock and I rammed into the passenger door with a resounding slam, banging my already heavily injured face on the window. I heard the person inside jolt and scoot away from me as I slowly backed away from the door, rubbing my aching nose. Before I could make my quick escape, I heard a shaky voice sound from the truck.
"H-hello? Is someone there?"
An unknown feeling welled up inside me at the sound of the frightened voice, but it was completely alien to me so I pushed it far back into my mind. I longed to reply to the obviously male voice, but the only thing that came out was a grunt and a gurgle. I looked back into the window and I saw the person had come closer to the door. I took a moment to mesmerize his features. I took notice of his silky black hair and raging grey orbs. I could hear the man–Tasha–preparing to speak again, but before he could utter a sound, an urgent voice broke through the silence.
"Tasha! What's wrong?! I heard a bang!"
I turned to my right, coming face to face with the chocolate-haired man with the rifle. We make eye contact for a mere moment before he swiftly raises his rifle, aiming it at my skull. I let out a gurgled sigh, resigning myself to my fate. I already died once, how bad could it be a second time? I heard Tasha say a worried "What's wrong?" from inside the car, but I paid it no mind. I closed my eyes, readying myself for the inevitable pain and darkness of death, but it never hit me. Instead, the shockingly sweet and confused baritone of the man's voice brought me back to reality.
"What…what ARE you?"
I opened my eyes to look at him. I don't know how he managed to glare at me while raising an eyebrow in confusion, but he made it work. I could practically sense Tasha's confusion too. I just tilted my head at the rifleman, letting out a puzzled groan, hoping he'd understand that I, too, was confused about what he was asking. He didn't take his eyes off of me and kept his gun raised as he shook his head in disbelief.
"In all my years of living through this hell," he began as he started to circle me. "I have never seen a Mosser like you. You look…so human. But yet, I can tell you're definitely a Mosser. Got the teeth, claws, and everything."
"What are you talking about, Sion?" Tasha voiced from the now open truck window.
This man–Sion–whistled at me. "Man, Tasha. I wish you could get a load of this guy. He sure is something else."
"Is he a Mosser?" Tasha inquires.
"I'm not sure. He damn well acts like one, but if you ignore the teeth and claws and rotting injuries, he looks just like an average human. It's insane!"
Getting annoyed at being treated like some kind of zoo exhibit, I growl at Sion with an obviously irritated expression on my face.
"Whoa, calm down," Sion says as he lowers his rifle.
I turn away from him, opting to look in Tasha's direction instead, but multiple shuffling sounds catch my attention. I quickly whip my end in the direction of the noises, but I see nothing yet. But those sounds are all too familiar to me. Whatever left I have of my eyebrows shoot up and my tired eyes widen a smidge as I faintly see deformed silhouettes in the snowy distance.
Although I'm a Mosser, I like to think of myself as superior to my kin because of my enhanced mental abilities, making me more human-like than squid. So I feel some sort of sympathy towards humans. I don't want them to get eaten. I rapidly turned towards Sion, who had been happily conversing with Tasha while I was distracted. I grab his shoulders, completely frightening him, making him raise his rifle to defend himself, but I have no intention of attacking him. I keep one of my hands on his right shoulder and I use my other to point in the direction of the Mosser hoard. I make some grunting noises to get my point across that this is urgent.
Sion slowly turns his head to look where I'm pointing and his eyes go wide. "Holy crap."