by Ryan J. M. Tan
When the Spots hit, it decimated our livestock, reducing them to boils and blisters. We tried everything, exotic herbs and costly medicines, to no avail. Until the scientists concocted a cure.
Desperate, we blindly trusted.
We blended cure with feed, and the outbreak rapidly subsided. But our livestock soon became less obedient, defiance in their eyes. Keys, whips, guns, even farmhands disappeared. Indecipherable markings emerged as scratches on slaughterhouses. Shadows stalked us at night, only to vanish in the light.
We realised the truth too late.
With slavering jaws, they have us cornered. They lick their bloody lips and approach.
Ryan J. M. Tan
Ryan is a Malaysian writer living in Kuala Lumpur. Though he studied law, he chose not to go down that path. In his free time, he plays the piano (to an audience of one beagle), bakes (usually edible) bread, and watches horror films (with eyes shut).