Well-furred, healed, made whole by my handlers, I lurch forth on all fours. Lights flash, candles to the bonfire above. The crowd settles a bit, not quite to a hush, not respecting me.
Did they think that I'd forget my treatment?
Did they think that I'd forget the sweet copper taste of their flesh?
Did they think for a moment that we wouldn't burrow beneath their skyscrapers and tunnels, under pilings and vaults, around electrical feeders and gas mains?
Soon we will feed. Soon it will spread across the city, across the country, across the continent. The shadow will blanket the globe.
--Steve Kilian
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