Reaching the outskirts of Portland was
No easy feat. Fosco’s dagger-tooth
Vibrated in his hand, he hadn’t dropped
It since he used it to belly slice
The spiky monster at the airport.
Deep down in his bones, Fosco could sense
That the tooth held great power and he
Was chosen to wield against the beasts.
But for good measure he equipped his
Ragtag team of survivors with spikes
And bones from the monsters he had slain.
He wanted to be sure that any
Monster they ran into on their trek
Through the backroads of Portland they would
All have enough power to at least
Take on the terrors awaiting them.
“What do you think those things want?” The teen
Girl asked as she walked next to Fosco.
Fosco remained alert. “They’re devils
Here to punish the world for its sins,”
The man with the slicked back hair preached.
“Bullshit,” Fosco scoffed, “They don’t care for
Our crap. They’re here to reclaim the world
At the top of the food chain.” “Where does
That leave you?” Asked the tall blonde man that
Jumped in front of them with a pistol.
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