Creatures of the Underworld.

[rossi]

Inspired by this image, linked to by warrenellis.

To live, in this world, is to be invisible.

We forsook the sunlight generations ago, driven into the labyrinth of sewers and tunnels that twist and turn beneath every city. Our skins grew pale and greyish, our statures smaller and shorter for ease of movement in the tunnels, our eyes large and dark with dilated pupils straining to catch every mote of light. What we fled became lost in tales and cautionary stories we told our children, the upper world lost forever in nameless fear. Sometimes the brave go above to explore, to learn, but they never come back.

We don't have much space. We've expanded as much as we can without bringing our sanctuary down on our heads. Our numbers are carefully regulated, procreation arranged by strict rules. For every birth, there must be a death; lots are drawn to see which one of the old will be culled, to make room for a new life.

We don't know our parents - each child is the property of the whole, raised in a den tucked deep and warm and safe. The species must continue, through whatever means, to whatever end.

To speak of love is heresy. It is selfish and self-absorbed and puts two above the whole. Of all crimes, only love is punishable by death.

We are creatures of the underworld. We cannot afford to love.