This is a story about the end of the world. Well. The end of the human world, anyway. The world never belonged to just them. This is a story about those left alive after the Plague, digging through the bodies. Well. For a given value of "alive." Some people consider that term vitalist. And it's especially a story about all the monsters left behind that don't have anybody to eat now, since all the stupid, squishy, and annoyingly mortal humans died, so they're really interested in those rumors of survivors out there, and have you spotted any? Because the monsters have a couple weeks left before they starve to death and they did not live through the invention of fire to die like this. The monsters don't want to go back in the closet. But they would very much like somebody to eat. Or at least, you know, nibble on.
