FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Day One

When the streets of London began to bustle, it wasn't with the people leaving pubs or travelling to work as you would expect. Instead, hulking, twisted shapes traversed paving stones that many a tourist had visited before the twist to fate that had them living like the prey they had scorned for so many years. Once, it was that humans were prey only on the outskirts of life. The homeless and the evil were the ones that were snatched from day-light and removed to become food for either two factions that lingered in the shadows.

It was the third faction that changed everything. For a week, everything went still. Nothing that had formerly hunted the humans was seen outside...until those with fangs left in a great flock of bats, disappearing for pastures new away from the threat that had overcome them. It was the shape-shifters, of all different species that bore the brunt of the sudden attack, one that vanished easily as they attacked the human-shaped zombies. As nature and their instincts demanded, the need for secrecy saw them devouring the zombie carcasses to hide their presence from the humans...and then they themselves changed.

The shape-shifters world split into two. Those who had killed the zombies but not fed withdrew from the towns they had before hunted in, taking to the hidden depths of the forests in which they had housed themselves originally. Those that had fed on them were changing, becoming bloodthirsty with hatred in their dulling eyes that rapidly became almost coldly assessing. Their shifts became sluggish, and a hunger that failed to be sated assailed them.

It was then that they attacked. The streets of London were filled with giant wolves, eyes a dull gold that brought to mind the sickening yellow of bile. Yellowing fur on the white tigers caught the streetlights as a low roar rumbled the streets...and of course, the humans came out in crowds to see what was happening. Darkness wasn't necessary, as shadows were thrown into sharp relief against walls. The timber wolves, working as a broken pack and lacking in direction, scattered after a target each. Their heads were buried into the stomachs of whoever they brought down, drawing out mouthfuls of hastily gulped down intestines from the screaming humans, hands beating at their heads though they didn't feel it.

Devouring the humans was a slow business, for these creatures seemed insatiable, yet causing pain allowed them to occasionally lift a chilling, haunted howl. With each fresh attack, with each fresh victim screams rose in time to the coldly triumphant howls of hunger. Bones cracked and crunched as the wolves tore their food into little scraps that left nothing bar a head, untouched bar the screaming expression that would never fade.

The tigers had melted away- or so it seemed as the silent kings and queens hunted their prey down and took them with claws that tore strips. The occasional cat was left with a dark red battle-mask and the remains of a pulsating heart crushed between their teeth, their prey locked in death spasms with a hole in their chest that seemed impossible. Though it appeared that the attackers were unmolested, that wasn't so. Knives were plunged into backs and sides repeatedly, splitting skin and causing only the softest of grunts to spill into the scream laden streets.

This first attack was complete with the black forms of the ravens and crows, cousins of the same species, spread their wings and glided between the tigers and the wolves. Unnoticed, they started to feed themselves, with a shudder-inducing shriek of hunger that was purely evil. Each head the wolves had left unmolested had the eyes removed, plucked from those still moaning in pain in particular. There was hunger in them, hunger and a need to cause as much pain and fear as these beasts could feast upon. Anyone still standing found themselves chased and harassed, blood spilling freely from swipes of curved claws that clutched at hair and even tugged prey to the still ravenous beasts, milling about without purpose.

As soon as the attack had happened, the animals disappeared. What human remains were left behind like litter, abandoned to the ravages of nature. The newspapers blared the attack out, though of course it was downplayed. A pack of feral dogs with rabies, having attacked humans due to hunger and the disease, and of course, no one was seriously injured and everyone bitten was undergoing treatment. Behind closed doors, the Government panicked. Everyone, from the Queen to the newest MP was aware that something was wrong.

Wolves and tigers didn't roam the streets of London. Wolves hadn't even been seen in England in more than two centuries. Tigers had never roamed wild at all. And for them to kill two dozen people in the time it took for one person to get through to the emergency services, it was impossible. Or would have been, without the sickening footage someone had snapped, and the remains of tooth and claw on the fragments of bone left by the creatures feast.

Day Three

This time the attack came from darkness and an entire family lost their lives to a vicious leopard. As dark as the night surrounding it, the evil was manifesting itself as bared muscles and bone were flashed to prey that ran about and stank of fear. One single leopard, one eye milky and eye-socket showing with festering skin surrounding it, feasted on prey with screams that rang out loudly. That leopard could have bathed in the blood it spilled, but instead it tore and clawed with rotten breath before leaving the house thankfully still and silent and leaving by the same way it had entered.

This attack was replicated in every house in that street...though when the attacks came from dogs that the family themselves owned, it was clear that something was very wrong this night. The only attack caught on camera disappeared after it showed a bear that had lost entire swathes of fur from its back and face attack a man. Gunshots resounded, punching through the bear with a spray of blood that barely seemed to stagger it. Instead, it seemed to take a sick pleasure in attacking the man, swiping long, jagged claws at him so his stomach split open with a squelch.

The gun was dropped with a feminine shriek of fear as he voided his bowels while trying desperately to feed his intestines back into his stomach...and completely missed the shift the bear made into the greying woman with stringy hair and a staggering step. She stepped forwards, stumbling towards him and with one hand plucked a length of intestine from the ground. Her eyes were dead but with a cold, demonic intelligence considering as she wrapped it around his throat, watching with disinterested eyes as she tightened the fold of muscles about his windpipe in an attempt to suffocate him.

When her strength didn't prove strong enough, she shifted once again with a creak of flesh...before using the strength the bear gave her to strangle him with his own intestines and growl as his body trembled, quivered manically while his air supply was cut off. His hands raked at the paws stopping him from breathing...but he fell limp soon and she bellowed her deep, dark triumph. And then, then she fed. Her teeth stripped the flesh from his bones, before spitting them out and resting one mighty paw upon his chest. A convulsive movement, a clutching, grasping movement saw her claws slicing through bone like it were bread and she lifted it.

Her teeth were sharp, her movements clumsy as she used the flap she'd created in his chest to rip out his heart and swallow it in the way one would a chip. The lungs...these she punctured out the cavity she'd created and then left beside his body before lumbering off into the forest, her breathing whistling slightly from the shots that had wedged inside her body.

Day Seven

Blood spilled into the water supply mainly from the savage attack launched by the more fantastical creatures that had previously lingered in the shadows. The attackers were werewolves and were-cats, all walking on two legs, but with organs showing that were rotten from the disease running rife through their kind. Not one among them wasn't bloodied in some way- whether due to the blood that spilled from their frenzied, never sated jaws or from the occasional wound that bared bone and festered flesh.

One of the werewolves was frenzied beyond the others, with fur that glinted through occasionally white, but primarily was a reddish pink hue with the blood he had ingested. The tainted water seemed to shrink back from him, recoiling from fur that may once have been luxurious, but now was matted and tangled with the remains of human flesh.

His voice, when he howled was strangled- more whistle than graceful song due to the fetid nature of his throat. The other creatures, dropping to four feet or lifting to two, stopped what they were doing. Some remainder of their doubtlessly decayed brain reminded them that this was their alpha, their leader, as they hurried to his side when he made his way towards the next village on their path of deadly destruction and ferocious feasting.

Day Fifteen

No news reports. No TV channels. The streets caked in rotting, decaying carcasses of the humans. Humans that had become prey to the beasts which feasted voraciously on everything that moved and some that didn't. Even their own kin were left to shriek wordlessly in the streets when the stretched, dried flesh was torn from their skeletons in a burning fit to eat. The strongest survived- the alpha wolves, the largest cats...the most vicious bears.

In the UK, the humans were limited to a slim time-frame in which to scurry out from their various hiding places and find the food which they needed. Darkness and the early morning were friends in particular to the beasts, the zombie creatures that hunted their own kind and the humans that were too slow or too weak to really run from them...and these weren't the shambling, slow creatures films had previously displayed.

These were creatures, with savage teeth and more frequently four legs that were swift when they worked properly. Most had lost the thick fur that had protected them from the harsh wilderness or the creatures they lived with, disdaining the need for warmth now that their hearts now failed to pump blood around them and while their bodies literally fell to pieces- only to keep others of their own, foul kind alive.