Simon never would have imaged that, in his life, he'd live long enough to see the world collapse.

Well- collapse was an overstatement. After the nuclear bombs had made their mark, people fled, died, or stayed to either remake their homeland or become scavengers and steal from the unfortunate. Eventually, though, starvation gets to everyone, wether you liked it or not, and people went to great lengths to survive.

Devouring the others around them soon became a common thing, a few months after the radiation blast. Some made a living out of it, making humans into cattle to be stripped of their flesh and drank of their blood.

The Lieutenant had used up his last meal days ago, and stuck to travelling to get to the seaside, where the bombs had entirely missed. He ran. And walked. And, when the time came, crawled, as the power in his legs burnt out and the energy that the food he possessed had gone.

Then, somebody had found him, in his moment of weakness. You. A well-known cannibal that he had the unfortune to ever meet.

Simon sat rigidly, eyelids heavy and chest tight; not just from the rope attached to the ceiling keeping his wrists above his head, but from the dread. A flickering lightbulb hung at the ceiling from where he sat, casting a cold glow over the counter of surgical tools. His adrenaline had come and gone in the hours he had spent in the cement room he was caged in like a scared animal, hunger gnawing at him persistently from the inside out.

There was a staircase leading up to a door to his side, but he ignored it for the time being. He wasn't in any position to start his escape with no weapons and an exhausted body.

At that fateful moment, the door creaked open with a shove of a hand, and a dark figure stood in the doorway. His host, he assumed, and greeted you with a disgusted glare.

"'Get me out of here, and maybe I'll think abou' sparing you from a bullet to the skull."