I passed over the rocky terrain, my bandana and goggles over my face. The mist and fog were slowly building as I walked. When I’d first received the warning from Sampson about the fog, my first thought had been that my best option was likely to simply circumvent it. It would take longer, but I valued my sanity enough to take the time. Unfortunately, as I walked along the edges of the fog, for several hours, I realized it wasn’t dissipating at all, nor even curving. Sampson had mentioned it was either in the center of it, or on the far edge. Based on the sheer size of the fog cloud, it was in the center. I stepped inside and made a beeline straight for the center. Sampson had mentioned that deadmen often survived travel into it, and if the bunker was anything like the others, I’d likely have a reprieve from the fog once I managed to get inside. I could take time to recover, then make a trip back.

I was roughly a mile into the fog. It was colorless, and I smelled nothing that indicated any dangerous substances inside it, or anything living within it, but I stayed alert anyway, though my smell was slightly weakened by the bandana. After another few miles of travel, I saw a small house on my path. It looked familiar, but wanting to get through the mist as quickly as possible, I ignored it and kept walking. A few more miles later, I saw the house again. I stopped. I’d definitely been moving in the right direction, and the terrain around the house was different, but the building itself was exactly the same. I recognized the shabby sheet metal roof, and could almost hear the sound of acidic rain hitting it as I struggled to sleep inside. I heard the baby crying.

I shook my head, and kept walking. The fog was affecting me, but I was closer to the bunker than not, and needed to press forward. Focusing on the path forward seemed to help, and I made it another few miles without seeing the house again. Unfortunately, while I stopped seeing things, I didn’t stop hearing them.

“She left because of you.”

I gritted my teeth. I hadn’t heard that voice in a long time. The scars on my back began to ache.

“You’re a monster, and she couldn’t bear the sight of you.”

I kept walking, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, a habit I’d developed around the first time I’d been given this speech.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, you little shit.”

I heard the sound of glass shatter and spun around toward it, drawing my sword and breathing heavily. There was nothing there. I reoriented myself, and saw him in front of me. He was tall, impossibly tall, hands scarred and callused. His eyes were green and angry, his lip twisted up in disgust at the sight of me, his hair was red, streaked with grease and dust, his beard wild.

“Now, get in there and fight. If you win, you eat tonight, if you lose, I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

Men were yelling all around me as I was pushed into a pit. I got on all fours and bared my teeth. This wasn’t the first time I’d done this, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The gate on the other side of the pit opened, and out came a massive dog, easily twice my size, black fur reeking of sweat and blood, and eyes wild. It charged, and I screamed as I charged it back, biting, and tearing at it with my overgrown nails, the taste of warm blood entering my mouth. First thing I’d tasted in days.

I was back in the fog, my senses in overdrive. I hadn’t moved from where I’d been standing before the vision started. My heart was pounding, and I could swear the taste of the blood in my mouth was fresh. I hadn’t remembered that day in a long time. I preferred it that way.

I managed to get myself back under control and started walking again, faster this time. Suddenly though, I found myself slowing down. There was a tremendous weight behind me, and I had to force my feet forward one after another. I looked behind me and saw a large cart, which I was tied to with a thick rope wrapped around my chest and shoulders. The sun was high, and so hot that I swore I could smell my flesh cooking. I paused for a moment to get a better look at the cart, when I heard a swift crack, and felt a flash of pain across my back. I gritted my teeth and pushed forward.

We made it to town, and I’m tied to the cart by the neck and left outside while he goes inside to drink. I tried to get what shade I could from the cart, but it wasn't much, so I stare, dead-eyed, straight ahead and try to move as little as possible. I could feel stares on me, and heard something whistle toward me. I caught the stone before it could hit my face, and placed it gently next to myself. The first time a kid had thrown a rock, it had hit me. The second time, I’d caught it and whipped it back at him, breaking his arm. After the beating that earned me, I’d learned to just catch them, and drop them, or let them hit me in the first place. Sometimes kids just said hi, or even smiled. I preferred when they threw rocks. I knew how to deal with that.

I heard an unholy screech, and found myself back in the fog again. Footsteps were approaching me, fast. I drew my pistol and started firing before they could reach me. Out of the fog emerged a deadman. His clothes were in tatters, and he was emaciated, his lips pulled back in a rictus-like grin as he ran toward me. His eyes showed no humanity in them at all. I fired more at him, but even though I was on target he kept running. I swung my sword and cut through his arm and half of his body. He bit at me a few times, but I held him away from my body until he went limp.

I heard more footsteps, and started running. There were barks, and screams coming from all around me. I’d found what had happened to the deadmen that had gone missing in the fog.

It wasn’t long before they caught up with me. I was fast, but I was also disoriented in unfamiliar territory. I fired my pistol at them as they approached, aiming low in an attempt to take their legs out from under them, while activating freeze to slow them down. One leapt down at me from a rocky outcropping, and I buried my sword in his face before kicking him toward the others. As soon as he landed in front of them, two of them began to cannibalize him, but the others kept their eyes on me, more interested in a living target.

As I ran, two more surprised me, leaping out of the fog and scratching at me with their claws. I fired and slashed at them, but lost my pistol when one of them struck out at my arm, another struck my back, and I let out a scream. It was high-pitched, not my voice, at least not anymore. Another strike lashed my back, and I could hear grunts and conversation nearby.

“All those marks… does he not listen to orders?” asked a large man wearing a greasy shirt.

“Oh he does, but he follows orders better when you keep the beatings regular,” he said, punctuating with another lash. I was ready for it this time, so I gritted my teeth, and didn’t make a sound.

“Alright, I’ll take him. How about a pound of tobacco, and a hundred points?”

“Deal…just let me give him one more good beating, for old time's sake.”

“I want him working soon.”

“Don’t worry, he heals fast.”

The lashings started coming faster, and fasters. I grabbed the crazed deadman's arm and threw it off me. Another of them bit into my leg, and I kicked her skull in. Another lash hit my back and I couldn’t move.

“Your mother had two monsters,” said one of the deadmen in his voice. “And you were so horrifying to her, that she chose to take your sister, and not you.”

Another hit, another set of teeth biting into me, faces and places were blurring together until I was blinded and my senses completely out of control. I lost my sword, there were three of them on top of me, biting into me and starting to eat me alive. I felt my sanity slip, and felt a scream building, as the lashing continued. I let the scream out, but as a roar, and threw the deadmen off myself, breaking my restraints, I grabbed the man nearest to me, and bit into its throat, hard. Then everything went red.