#066 I Am Famine

The conference room reeks of dusty agricultural land where no crops will grow. These desperate diplomats, their cheeks hollow with exhaustion, are starved for a solution to the worldwide food shortage. I won’t give them any. Instead, I kick back in my black leather chair and watch them wither.

I love to tip the scales and watch humanity tumble over the edge. Out of us four, my game may be the slowest, but seeing bodies break down until they are little more than bags of bones slowly crumpling into dust is half the fun, and hunger has plenty of patience.