She had once been surprised to find a semblance of hope in this desolate world. Hidden among the tortured souls and jagged rocks, she thought she might endure, perhaps even escape. But she did not know how wrong she was. This devil that haunted this wasteland had marked her, and it hunted her relentlessly.
The second time it found her, it took her nose bridge, biting it off her face with a grotesque crunch. The pain was excruciating, a searing agony that made her vision blur and her head swim. Blood gushed from the wound, warm and thick, threatening to choke her as it filled her mouth and throat. She gagged and sputtered, struggling to breathe, each breath a desperate rasp against the blood flooding her airways.