Something is happening in the city. Something no one wants to talk about.
The numbers don’t lie, even if the officials do. People are vanishing. Not just a few. Not just here and there. Hundreds. And not the kind of people who get press coverage. Not the kind who have families that can afford billboards and search parties.
I’ve been thinking about the Mole People again. You remember them—those subterranean entities that emerged from beneath the city, not from the sewers, but from the ancient layers of earth that predate our maps, our buildings, even our understanding of what this planet is. They’re not rats. They’re not mutants. They’re something older. Something deliberate.
They’re calling it a gas leak. A tragic accident. Faulty wiring. A boiler malfunction. Pick your excuse. The official story keeps changing, like a bad improv troupe trying to cover up a murder. But I know what happened at Shady Pines. I’ve connected the dots.
I’ve been watching the streets again. Listening. The usual noise is there—sirens, deals, threats, the hum of a city pretending it’s still in control. But beneath that? Something new. Something wrong.
I need to correct a mistake. A grave mistake.
In my last post, I told you all that mutant rats had emerged from the sewers, evolving past anything science or magic could explain. And while that post was based on the truth as I understood it then, I now realize how deeply misled I was. The creatures we saw that night were not rats at all. The glow, the sigils, the unnatural way they moved—they were something far worse.
They were Mole People.