Aaron was more than prepared for any scenario due to his dad’s tough love (that really felt more like neglect at some points, but he made it to adulthood!). However, nothing could’ve prepared him for the creatures lurking and stealing the appearance of those they kill. Alternates, the media called them. Long, uncanny, faces to realistic looking enough to pass as human just long enough to get their prey to lower their guard.

Aaron wasn’t scared. He knew how to handle beating the creatures into the ground even as they begged like real humans. Even as they cried for mercy and called his name repeatedly. “Trauma is better than death.” He’d tell himself as he washed his bat in a river.

It was one of those days where Aaron had just murdered an alternate for survival. One that claimed to be a mother seeking refuge until next morning though it was more than clear that her facial structure was too elongated and the infant in her—its— arms was beyond dead. Safe to say, Aaron was more than on edge. That’s when he heard a rattle behind him and a figure emerged from the bushes. Looking out of breath and roughed up. “Stay back.” Aaron hissed, raising his damp bat in defense.