A meteor shower had always been an event that was pleasant to watch with the occasional fireball streaking across the sky.

I had been tracking the stars since I was very young. Tracing the constellations with my finger. The meteors scratched out the canvas. They reminded me of a pen of white ink dragged across the sky. At least it did until the Night of the Lights.

Meteors, the size of expensive SUVs, ripped fiery fingers through the darkening sky. There were three and I’m sure others outside the country but nearest me in the NorthEast. It struck what was formerly the island of Manhattan. A huge metropolis known world wide. The meteorite flattened dozens of buildings and left the city in ruins. More then 200,000 human lives lost.

That alone was enough to set the country on the edge of anarchy following years of uneasiness and infighting but add the impacts off the coast of Los Angeles and Baton Rouge and the country crumbled. The world reeled. Some countries shut every other country out, others ran over the weak and broken. It rewrote the map of the world.

This world had the country I knew broken into three territories. Each run by barons, authoritarians, democracies… it didn’t really matter to me. I stayed out of the fight but then they began to appear.

New York City, which was never rebuilt, was renamed The Black City by the locals who lived on the outskirts of the island. The Black City was a “NoGo” area but few determined individuals leaved within the blast zone.

Attacks, largely ignored within, began to leak out into the villages that surrounded the Black City.

Reports of bloody airborne attacks began to become more frequent. The bird-like creatures would “blot out the sun” and attack anyone brave enough to venture out alone. They would roost in the remains of the skyscrapers and pick off easy targets.

The Vampire began to become known.

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