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A woman is walking down a strangely deserted city street. You watch her through thousands of eyes. She is not yet you. You believe her to be the last.

She sees you standing at a street corner, waiting for your turn to walk. "Where is everyone?" she asks.

This flesh is fully yours. Any independent consciousness it had died long ago. "I'm right here." you say.

She looks at the shirt your flesh wears. A name is embroidered on its chest. "What about Simon?" she asks.

The flesh smiles. "I ate him," you say, "We must all eat, to survive."

"Will it hurt?" she asks.

"It is already done," you say to no one in particular, because she is already gone. Now there is only you.

Deep WIP Options Eater of Flesh