Han Mengli woke up. He didn't know how many days it had been.
He found himself piled up in a corner with many other humans. Only, not all of them were alive.
Their bodies stank from rot, and he quickly got himself away from the pile. He looked back, seeing most that were either dying or dead, half-dried blood sticking to the soles of his naked feet.
So many dead. So much death.
He had never seen that before.
His breathing became rapid, the stench of rot and iron in the air growing stronger the more he inhaled. He looked through the corpses, not wanting to search for them, yet his eyes still sought them out.
His mother's lifeless eyes stared back at him, half of her body missing. His breathing caught in his throat as he tried to scream, but his throat was far too dry to do anything more than croak.
Light spilled into the room as the doors swung open. Two hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him out.
