Stealing A Boat

Havermouth, A few days after the storm

The explosions continued, filling the sky with smoke and ash so that it drifted down and coated the car, the street, and the pretty little cottage gardens like snow. The smell was how Lyric thought the end of the world would smell like. No average wood fire – the smoke had shadows of burnt plastic, melted metal, and roasted flesh.

Several of the streets showed signs of some dramatic event having occurred, with upturned 4WDs, others abandoned, doors open as if the occupants had fled, and puddles of blood. Shell casings glittered amongst the ash like buried treasure.

“War,” Niarthen observed grimly. “The local supernatural communities must be fighting back against the humans.”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but not all humans, Niarthen,” Lyric corrected. “The civilians have nothing to do with this. They’re as caught up in it as we are.”

“Enough humans permitted them to build this power. They failed to see the monster that grew within them,