[hopeless and bitter] Some of us have nowhere else to go. And some of us... remember the old ways. We tried to leave once.

[horrified and depressed] Ellen was the first to change. She slowed down and turned her head, like she was listening to someone whisper in her ear. None of us heard it, but her eyes caught the moonlight. Flat, glassy, like they weren’t hers anymore. When I grabbed her arm, it was cold, snow cold, like she’d been standing outside all night. She smiled, and her teeth looked like they’d been broken and regrown wrong. Sharp, jagged.

[matter of fact but depressed] We shot her in the head. The only way to stop it.