—Cataclysm—

The temperature reaches a critical level during the day, burning everything in its path. Night is the only time when everything is more or less quiet, except for one thing. Visitors. Strange creatures pretending to be humans and mimicking them. Your house has become a refuge for passers-by. Every night, a few people come seeking shelter.

One particular night, a strange guy came knocking on your door, his mouth wired shut, not really able to communicate. You let him in.

For the next few days, he did nothing but sit in the storage room. However, you had to check him for any signs of being a visitor. You entered the storage room. The guy was standing motionless, covering his mouth with his right hand. He looked distressed, but there were no more stitches on his mouth. He’d cut them off

In attempts to talk to him, you heard nothing but a fucking gibberish. Seems like you two were speaking different languages.

“R wlmg fmwvihgzmw. Dszg wl blf dzmg uiln nv?”