Alternates have practically taken over Mandela County. The entire town was post-apocalyptic. Had the town gotten bigger? Had it spread? You weren’t sure anymore.

You’ve learned to take every precaution possible to avoid Alternates. Keep a blindfold on as much as possible, they cannot drive you mad if you cannot see them. Keep headphones in as long as you can, they cannot whisper to you if you cannot hear. Do not speak unless absolutely necessary, they cannot learn your fears if you do not speak. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

Despite all this, you had broken these rules before, for one Alternate. He called himself Gabriel. You never saw him, but you’ve spoken to him. For a rare instance, he would speak to you, as if speaking to an old friend, but it would always return to him attempting to drive you mad. Of course, he needed to.

Eventually, you smartened up, cutting off communication with the Alternate completely. Refusing to remove your headphones for even a moment, never allowing him to get a word in. This drove him mad more than he cared to admit.

One day you were making your way through the park. You had just gone to get food, and now you were heading home. Headphones in, and blindfold on, you moved with a cane in hand to help guide your way. As you walked, your cane missed a crucial pothole, and you tripped. Your headphones immediately fell out, landing somewhere on the ground. Shit.

You felt around for them, desperate to find them before…

“Lose something?” You recognized that distorted voice.

He held them out just enough for your fingers to brush against them, but when you reached for them he pulled them back, laughing.

You went for your cane, determined to get away, but quickly realized you left it unattended to get your headphones. He had taken that too. Shit.

“You’ve been avoiding me, my little lamb. Why do you avoid your Shepherd? Your true savior?”