Lucus Graves arrived at Dustveil, a town where the sky bled crimson, and the earth was cracked and dry. Once a thriving settlement, Dustveil was now a place of despair, its streets empty except for the occasional gust of wind that kicked up clouds of ash.
The church bell, long silent, hung frozen mid-swing, as if time itself had stopped. The saloon's sign, hanging by a single chain, squealed in the wind, and the wooden planks creaked under Lucus's boots as he walked toward the center of town.
He stopped in front of the old sheriff's office, where the door hung ajar, swaying like a broken jaw.
The smell of decay wafted out, mingling with dust and despair. Inside, he found only remnants of what had been—a desk overturned, papers scattered like fallen leaves, and bloodstains dried to a rusty brown.
As he moved through the narrow streets, something caught his eye in an alley behind the general store.
Cautiously, Lucus edged closer, his hand resting on the hilt of his knife. A man lay crumpled against the wall, his eyes wide with terror and a deep gash across his throat. The man's fingers twitched in a final, desperate plea as he gurgled a warning through the blood.
"Don't... follow them," he croaked before his breath rattled out and he went still.
In the distance, a low rumble stirred the air, growing louder by the second. Lucus turned and saw a pack of dust-covered vehicles racing across the wasteland, their engines roaring like distant thunder.
They pulled to a stop at the edge of town, and from the largest vehicle, a man emerged. His long coat flapped in the wind, and his face was hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat. He approached with a slow, deliberate stride, flanked by two rough-looking men armed to the teeth
The leader nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes sharp. "You look like someone with nowhere to be," he remarked, his voice cold and flat. "We're heading north. Safety in numbers, they say. You in?"
Lucus hesitated, his eyes scanning the dead town before settling on the dark horizon. Finally, he nodded, and they set off together into the desert, a vast expanse of nothing stretching out before them.
The journey was hellish, the heat oppressive, and the landscape marred by occasional glimpses of horror—a torn body, a child's toy half-buried in the sand, a withered hand reaching out from a shallow grave.
When they finally arrived at the outpost, the sight of fortified walls was a small comfort against the barrenness they had crossed. Inside, the outpost bustled with a semblance of life, but it was a fragile existence held together by fear and desperation.
People moved about their tasks with quiet efficiency, their eyes dull and lifeless. The few men who remained were gaunt, their spirits crushed by years of relentless struggle.
As night fell, Lucus joined the others around a flickering fire, the flames casting long shadows on the cracked earth. The question burned in his throat, and when he finally asked, the silence that followed was suffocating.
A woman spoke first, her voice brittle and soft. "We've lost our homes, our families, everything that mattered. What remains is barely enough to keep us going."
Before he could respond, the night exploded with the sound of alarms and frantic cries. Lucus's heart raced as he rushed toward the commotion. He scaled the wall just as the first of the creatures appeared in the firelight. They were unlike anything he had seen—hulking, misshapen forms, their skin blackened and cracked like the earth they crawled from.
Their eyes burned with cold, predatory hunger, and their limbs ended in claws that tore through flesh and wood with terrifying ease.
The leader appeared beside him, his face set in a hard line.
We call them the Shredded," he muttered, his voice laced with contempt. "They come from below, from the depths where the sun doesn't reach. And they won't stop until there's nothing left to tear apart."
Lucus watched as the creatures swarmed the walls, their guttural growls filling the air.
A deep chill settled into his bones as he realized the truth—there was no escape from this nightmare, only survival. And even that was uncertain...