A stench of alcohol presented itself long before he could hear who was coming. Charlie struggled to make out his fathers figure in the muted light of his bedroom and was picked up by a pair of strong hands - his frail body putting up no resistance.

With a quick jerk, Charlie was thrown over the man’s shoulder. The thick rope of his fathers rucksack bore into his skin. “Wake boy, we’re heading out,” he said turning out of the room, hand on the rotten door-frame.

Barely getting enough air in his lungs, Charlie squeaked out, “But Father, the sun is still out.”

The father didn’t answer and continued walking in silence. Each step laboured, but careful. The light that peaked through the rotten ceiling didn’t much help the man find his footsteps.

As they made their way through to the buildings exit, things began brightening up. Though with light, came heat. Not yet even in direct light and Charlie’s forehead began glistening with sweat.

The strength of the sun beat into his body and threatened to force out his voice, but he held firm. His father had taught him to never make a peep, no matter how painful.

Large, white and dusted buildings laid bare baking under the sun. Concrete rubble mounds littered the view with dust taking to air as the wind whistled through the hollow cracks. Charlie hated the dust, it always made his lungs itch.

Each building that they passed had that same-ish, worn look to it. Every ounce of life that was once there is now gone, replaced by the baked-in white.

Still on his shoulder, Charlie tried looking around to find anything he remotely recognised so that he might be able to tell where they were going today. Though nothing gave him any sort of hint, they had eventually slowed down. His father ducked low and placed Charlie in front of him.

“Boy, do you know what day it is?” he asked, his voice low.

“No, Father,” Charlie whispered back.

“It’s your 5th year being alive. Good job. This is your present,” he said, as his hand outstretched to somewhere behind Charlie.

Turning around, he saw a pit with smooth edges going into a very neat looking basin of concrete. From within he could hear a small scurrying sound, with light scratches echoing against rubble laying in the pit.

Confused, Charlie stepped towards the lip of the pit but he couldn't make out where the sound was coming from. At first it was some distance away, but with each passing moment it got louder.

Charlie’s body reeled back in fear as his eyes landed on the creature, involuntarily stepping back. His foot landed on an uneven stone and made him stumble. Though he caught himself, the stone flicked out from under his shoe and fell into the pit.

The pitter patter of the stone rolling down the walls alerted the creature. It turned to the source and followed the stones path back to Charlie. Locking eyes, the creature let out a wild screech.

Charlie couldn't pull his eyes off of the creature below, taking in every detail of that monster. Tumors and leathery patches of skin tore through the matted grey fur. The thin, frail and naked appendage that grew from the rear angrily twisted and turned in the air.

The creature rammed the concrete walls in an attempt at reaching him, tearing Charlie out of his stupor. With unease growing in his heart, Charlie looked back at his father. Hoping for any reassurance, hoping to calm his wild mind.

Charlie saw his father smile, and for a brief moment the murmur in his heart wanted to fall silent... but.

But why did that smile scare him so much?

Weightlessness and disbelief. Nothing quite made sense anymore to Charlie as his mind failed to comprehend that he was falling. He struggled to understand his fathers figure getting smaller but understanding quickly came in the form of sharp pain. As his body hit the ground, his head jerked and slammed down with force making his mind swim.

Though dazed and confused, Charlie wasn't given time to understand the situation. Hearing the creatures noises become louder, his instincts had taken over. He had to move so he can live.

Charlie attempted to get up but his head swam again, robbing him of his ability to orientate. His left hand betrayed him, his right was weak and his legs felt like they belonged to another.

The screeches were loud, and they kept tearing through the muddled thoughts as if they were alarm bells. Though nothing could wake him like the teeth that sank into his shoulder. Searing pain flooded Charlies mind and cleared out all confusion.

His own voice found a way out as the creatures teeth found their way in. Instinctually Charlie tried to rip the teeth out of him, but he couldn't muster the strength. The creature was strong and refused to let go through Charlies weak attempts.

He pulled, pushed, beat, bit and even gouged at the creatures eyes. Nothing he did worked, but he kept driving his fingers deeper.

Finally the creature couldn't take it any longer, pulling away and opening Charlies wound. Not to be outdone, the creature launched one final attack and swiped at Charlies eyes. Charlies scream had reached a new height as the pain seeped in. The creature walked backwards and began circling itself, whimpering as it's eye bled.

His father spoke but it fell on deaf ears, or rather it was Charlie that couldn't understand the words. He was simply overwhelmed.

His mind attempted to salvage the situation, to survive, and allowed Charlie to find a solution in his own way. He wanted it to stop. He wanted the pain to go away, and for the bad monster to leave him alone. He pleaded for it to stop, begged it to stop, begged to be rescued.

With his eyes failing him, all he could do was have his hand reach down for anything solid. They touched something, they felt the jagged edges and grasped with all it had. A stone. He must use the stone. He must make it stop.

Shaky energy filled his bones and forced him to stand, forced him to run. Stoney courage and instinctual anger mixed together to give him strength, gave him direction. He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted to make his problems go away.

The now blind creature was absorbed by the pain in its eyes. It may have heard him approach, but in it's limited intelligence, couldn't escape its fate as the stone hammered down.

Stunned, it felt it come down again.

And again.

Again.

Until it couldn't feel any more.

Charlie swung and swung. All he wanted was for it to stop. He needed it to stop. He was in pain and wanted it to stop hurting. He was so scared. He wanted to find safety. He just wanted his mom to save him.

A firm grip stopped Charlies arms from swinging down again. There wasn't much to swing into anyway.

“Good job, boy. I guess you’re not just a useless piece of shit then.”

What was that supposed to mean? Was he saved? Did his father come to save him?

He looked back down with his one good eye towards the creature, and was able to finally make sense of what was in front of him. A mangled corpse of blood and viscera.

Not being able to hold on any longer, Charlie proceeded to vomit all over the creature and promptly passed out. If it was impressive that Charlie was able to survive and even kill one of those creatures, his father never showed it.

Taking out a filthy bandage the father patched his sons face and body, stopping most of the immediate bleeding. Once that was taken care of, he took the body of the creature and threw it into his rucksack. Charlie quickly found his place atop his shoulder once more, only letting out a stifled moan in protest.

-----

When Charlie woke up, he was greeted with the familiar rotten ceiling of his bedroom. The image was skewed and somehow wrong, but he wasn’t in any mental shape to truly give it thought. He didn't quite remember why his body hurt, but he knew he needed to get up. Charlie was so thirsty he felt possessed to fight through the pain and go downstairs to find his mom.

Nauseous, he approached the kitchen and saw his father sat there, smiling to himself. He was preparing the corpse of the creature that Charlie had killed. His mind spun again and heart began pounding, as memories of what he just went through filled his mind. His stomach attempted to protest, but found nothing to let go. A sour taste filled his mouth.

In his new blindspot, he was unable to see that his mother was pale-faced, streaks of tears that were still rolling down her face. Yet she made no sound when she saw Charlie walk into the room.

She simply stood up and walked towards Charlie, hatefully staring down the father. Her trembling hands touched Charlies face and body trying to soothe in any way possible.

"He.. hey baby. It's okay, it's okay. It's dead, okay?" she stammered out in a hushed voice.

"Please go back to bed, you need to rest okay? Do you want something?"

The butcher knife slammed into the wooden table.

“What do you think you're doing?” the father spoke.

“His bandage has soaked through with blood. I need to change it.”

“He’s fine, he's going to help me with the Skitter now that he's standing.”

With the fabric of Charlie’s shirt bunched into her knuckles, the mother turned him around to face his father. Her stretched lips held back venom.

Charlie was able to tell that he didn’t have a choice, even in his state. Breaking away from his mother, Charlie took uneasy steps toward the bench and sat beside his father.

The father removed the knife from the wood and swung down into the leg of the creature. It tore through the muscle and bone with ease, giving only a soft thud when it hit the table.

Using the light of day that found it's way through the crack in the building, the father showed Charlie where to cut and how to best harvest the meat. It was gruesome and tiring for the weakened Charlie, but he had to persist. The forced smile on his fathers face unnerved him more than the pain in his body.

Once done, Charlie was able to look into his fathers eyes and there he saw it. His fathers green eyes reflected his face. The blood of the Skitter smeared over both their faces.

He looked just like him, and he hated it.

---------

A satisfying ripping sound came when Charlie removed a mushroom from the muddy dirt. Charlie heard his mothers step in from behind and his head lightly jerked forward followed by a dull throb.

She didn’t say anything, but Charlie knew that the mushroom he had gotten was wrong. He tried comparing it to the other mushrooms and one glaring issue popped up. It had minute black spots.

He didn’t know what the black spots were, but clearly his mother didn’t approve. Tossing the mushroom to the side, Charlie continued looking for more food. It was a bit difficult with only half of your vision.

These moments with his mother were his favourite, still. They were, mostly, peaceful.

Charlies dark and leathery skin was glistening with sweat. The sun that bleached the buildings white was right overhead, not a cloud in sight. Having turned ten recently and being forced to help with outside work ever since, he was getting used to it.

At least the sun allowed them to spot the mushrooms during the day that weren’t picked off by wild creatures during the night. Thankfully, they were rare during the day. Not even the creatures wanted to deal with the sun for longer than necessary.

Charlie looked over to his mother, watching her expertly assessing each mushroom. Taking in the size, the colour and the health of each mushroom with a single glance. If she ever had to take longer than a few seconds to check out a mushroom, it was a near certainty that it’ll be bad.

Charlie didn't fully understand everything his mother had taught him. She would tell him why it was bad, but the explanation was far beyond him. He has heard the term irradiated far too many times, and at this point, it just means that it's no good.

The pair explored further into the ruins of the white city, scrounging for anything remotely edible. His mother had taught him that you needed to eat more than just creature meat. The mushroom was one of the few things that they could eat off the land – apparently they were the safest.

Charlie didn’t particularly like mushroom, but he loved spending a few quiet hours away from his father. He dashed those thoughts away before they could ruin what little peace he was given.

After some time, Charlie noticed his mother had stopped making any sounds, turned his head to face her and took a moment to understand what was going on. All he could see was fear in those hazel eyes and in turn felt his own body be gripped by goosebumps. Following her line of sight, he saw it.

A tumorous mountain of flesh.

A grotesque figure standing 2m tall on all fours. It’s awful horns looking to skewer and tear the flesh of those unfortunate to meet it. A quiet, but high-pitched sound escaped the creatures jutted jaw. It’s 5 eyes blinked out of sync as it's gaze landed on Charlie and his mom.

Charlie had heard of them but never seen one until now. When he was playing with the other children they spoke of tales of their fathers and mothers killing these things. Feeding them for weeks.

It was a Camio.

He was told, as long as he didn’t move, the creature couldn’t see them. The five grey eyes not doing it much good.

Not that Charlie could – he was frozen in place.

Charlie’s mother though, she moved. Slowly. Ever so slowly, she crept towards Charlie. She did her best to not make a sound, to not even breathe too loudly as to not alert the towering creature. She reflexively brought out her machete, but as confident as she was, it wasn’t going to be enough to survive against this beast.

The pair had finally made contact, the mother never breaking sight of the Camio in front of them. The soft touch of his mother brought him back to reality. She didn’t have to say anything - Charlie knew they had to leave.

Even though Charlie was scared right now there was still a thought that overrode even the Camio in front of him. His father - he would do worse things if they brought back nothing. With quiet resolution, Charlie bent down to pick up their basket of mushrooms.

Gently placing it on his back, the two took measured steps backwards, constantly glancing behind them to not step in, or on, anything.

The Camio’s tail, bulbous and furred, swung from side to side in anticipation. It’s oversized head held up by it’s enormous muscles let out a laboured huff. It was clear that it had heard something coming from this direction, and was definitely looking for something. Thankfully they had seen it before it was too close to really notice them.

Adrenaline coursing through Charlie’s veins made him shiver. He was once again too close to death, once again reminded that these moments that feel peaceful can be destroyed in seconds.

The Skitter clawed it's way out of Charlies mind, it's nightmarish claws taking hold of the situation. His heart couldn't slow down, his breathing quickened and a dull ache retook it's place in Charlies eye.

His mother had noticed a little too late that Charlie was beginning to have a panic attack. It was less than a brief moment of carelessness for her. She knew he hadn't fully recovered yet.

Charlie involuntarily stepped back on a shard of concrete that just happened to crumble under his foot. The feeling and sound of the rock crumbling sent lightning up and down Charlies spine, it was like it was all happening once again.

The Camio turned.

Fear jolted through them, sending Charlie over the edge. He wanted to turn, to run, to get away from this nightmare.

The Camio started walking in their direction.

Charlie couldn't hold back any longer. He twisted his body and tore his fingers into his mothers shoulder, looking for any additional purchase to propel himself forward. The mother was spun to the side and didn't have enough time to stop Charlie from crying out.

In a desperate attempt, Charlie tried to muffle his own mouth but a small whimper still snuck through.

The creature snorted, then charged.

Cursing under her breath, the mother righted herself and chased after Charlie. As she passed him, she scooped him up without slowing down. Charlie was too slow on his own - she couldn't let him fall behind as she dashed into the white city.

She hoped the twists and turns would be enough to let them lose the Camio, but unfortunately for her, the Camio didn’t care for the pathetic remnants of a dead city that stood in its way.

It rampaged through the concrete as if it were nothing but a suggestion. Houses crumbling under the sudden loss of support, beams of metal crashing atop it’s body - leaving deep gashes of pus, but terrifyingly, barely slowing it down.

The sudden and loud thumps in the distance were gaining on them. Each new sound sending a warning of their death looming closer.

The bleats of unbridled terror were getting closer.

A thundering sound reverberated through their bodies as the mother felt something rip from her hands. She didn't even need to look down.

Charlie was missing.

She turned quickly, only to see Charlie being held up in the mouth of the Camio by his long brown hair, his one eye open in abject horror and his hands desperately trying to stifle his screaming.

“No!” she screamed, propelling her body forward.

The Camio swung Charlie up into the air. A moment of weightlessness took over Charlie’s body, and his mind took that moment of comfort to protect him. It shielded itself in the only way it knew how.

He could see his mother running to him, but she was barely moving. It was strange, everything was so slow now. He could see the city from a new height, a new perspective.

His vision faded for a brief moment and everything melted away. It was so nice and so warm. He didn't want to leave.

He hit the floor and his arm made a wet crunching sound. The pain always seems to bring him back. It always brought him back from any peace or quiet he might get a taste of.

Looking up with his bleary eyes he was able to make something out. His mother had dashed to his aid with her machete extended. It seemed to have connected but something felt wrong.

The Camio bleated from the pain of having a machete torn into its throat. The mother tried to let go of the Machete as soon as it stopped going in, but it wasn’t enough. There was just not enough distance.

The Camio, with it’s powerful neck muscles, was able to swing out one more time and gored the mother.

The two horns pierced her chest and stomach, lifting her up into the air. With her last ounce of life she screamed through the blood in her throat and kicked her foot towards the machete, and she drove it deep. As deep as it had to go.

With the added weight of the body on it’s horns and the unnatural angle it had it’s neck twisted at, the machete that was driven by the dying wishes of a mother found it's target. It snuck in and separated the vertebrae in its spine.

The bodies of creature and woman hit the floor.

A scream so guttural it threatened to tear Charlie’s vocal chords pierced the air. Everything was so fast, everything happened before he could understand it. He needed time. He needed a moment. A second. Anything.

That second came and went. That moment passed and yet... His mother still lay motionless and disemboweled.

Charlie scrambled towards his mother with a shaking body and a crumbling mind.  "Mom."

"Mom, mom, momomomom…" his trembling hands touched her face, in any attempt to somehow soothe her. His mind felt like it was melting with each passing moment.

When his hands reached her body, he tried desperately to remove her off of the horns. He needed to save her at any cost, and the horns are stopping her from being alive.

He knew it.

How could anything else be true? If you get a splinter, you remove it and you're fine. You get a cut and can't stop bleeding? You bandage it. He knew he could save her if he could just remove the horns and bandage her up.

He tugged at her, he begged her to help, he kicked the creatures head, he screamed at her at the top of his lungs. Nothing worked, nothing got her to react and nothing moved her.

Each new thought and emotion was quickly crushed by another, more powerful emotion. Rage. Fear. Sadness. Loss. They cycled so quickly they threatened to escape in new self destructive ways, teasing him to join his mother.

Nothing else was out there for him if she were dead.

It played on his mind so powerfully that he was beginning to find new strength and a new direction was forming in his heart.

Then Charlie heard him.

The father had arrived.

“What the fuck, Simra! SIMRA,” he screamed, running towards them.

The emotions flowed through him like a torrent breaking a dam. The thoughts that were playing with him and seducing him were banished the moment his father dared to utter his mothers name.

He's here? Why is he here now? Where was he? Why didn't he save us? Why didn't he save mom?

Why didn't he save ME?

“Where... were you?!” The venom that rolled off of those words were enough to rip into the father.

“You're blaming me?! You- you fucking killed her-” the father screamed, unable to even finish his words.

Then Charlie’s world quickly went sideways before going blank as his fathers heavy fist made contact with the side of his head.

Ah it's quiet again.