Damien was running. His strong legs leapt and bounded over the snow-covered ground. His breath crystallized in the air. Normally, he would’ve enjoyed a run like this, his muscular body used to the hard labour required of him, but this time was different. He could hear the drone of the snow machines behind him, quickly catching up with him as he weaved and dodged through the trees. His breath was drawn in sharp, ragged breaths as he ran in the twilight. Perhaps he could lose them if he went on any further. His muscles were burning—this chase had started when he had gone into town to find food for his people, who were now starving. Driven to the edges of civilization by the government in power. He cursed them as he leapt over the log blocking his path, as he had cursed them when he saw his tiny sister’s life force go out for the want of food. There was none. Bitter tears welled to the edges of his eyes for a moment, but it wasn’t time to cry—he had to concentrate on surviving. He could hear the drone get louder and more menacing as the officers chasing him revved their engines, nearing him. He let out a last howl of contempt; before he felt the shock round hit him. He collapsed to the ground painfully, as the snow machines overtook him, his body rigid with pain. He could hear the crunching of boots on the snow as he writhed in pain.

“Tag him and take him in.” a cold, calculated voice could be heard commanding the others.

The last thing Damien saw before he passed out was seven white faces surrounding him, their fangs glinting in the moonlight.