Blood — Hive

Blood

Her blood was poison to them, but they didn't understand the danger, not until after they’d bitten her, and their tiny bodies had begun to burn. She pitied them, but she hated them, too. They were, at best, an annoyance, and at worst, a plague. They needed the nutrients found in human blood to survive, but she wasn't human, not anymore. Her body had been injected with toxin after toxin, until her cells began to devour themselves.

She brushed their bodies from her arm, careful of their wings, and wincing as their tiny fangs were dislodged. They couldn't harm her, but being bitten still stung.

She shivered. Her skin was always sensitive after their attacks, and she felt the cool air more acutely. What once was once lush jungle was now arid desert, and she made her home in the dead vegetation. Thanks to the bombs, the war ended, but so did the life that she and every one who survived knew. The animals and people began to change soon after. Doctors and scientists from some far away, untouched land came with their medicines and machines; the animals and people changed again. Their blood and flesh was poison to everything but their own kind.