Underground

It started unexpectedly—a few seemingly isolated incidents on deserted late-night platforms. It started with tiny beasts tussling with commuters and biting through a pants leg or into feet in sandals.

By the time a freak attack claimed an entire toe, there was no stopping it.

By the time they realized they were being hunted, the tunnels were already overrun.

By the time they tried to save themselves, the city was already doomed.

New Yorkers will never forget it happened on a Thursday afternoon that felt normal. Trains were delayed, as they usually were, and millions pressed and pulled themselves along in the rush hour foot traffic. All was as it usually is down below in the veins of New York until they came pouring from every filthy corner.

Rats.

Hungry devourers suddenly craving human flesh laid waste to countless victims in the unforgiving heat of the Underground.