It's been days. The rain of blood hasn't stopped. You stooped to drinking the blood this time. It tasted sweet and satisfying which only furthered your self-disgust. You haven't eaten since you visited the fields. After drinking the blood from the sky you can't bear to visit them again. Hunting is now mandatory.

Despite the risks, you move into the dark forest. The glimpses of the sky are the only touchstone you have of the old Earth. Traveling these spaces is the admittance that the world of peace and prosperity is gone.

You do it anyways.

You can't do anything else. You venture into the alien world of the forests. Strange sounds that you can't place surround you immediately, and the crunching of dominant predators almost sends you scurrying back to the safety of the apocalypse. Hunger keeps you here.

Hunger and guilt.

You know you don't have the mettle to brave the fields. Cautiously, you tread through the forest. Your caution is rewarded as you find a small beast akin to a rabbit.

Still, it is not a rabbit and your mind rebels after you kill it.

It's multi-tentacled face implores you as the knife dives deep into its body. It cannot cry out, but it levels judgement at you nonetheless.

You survive another day. Your fire is meager and burns with an unhealthy light. Still, it cooks the creature's flesh.

One more day in hell.

One more day you regret as you continue to survive.