The Face Stealers…
How could Sylvia not know what these vile creatures were? They weren't exactly commonplace, but they weren't rare either. These faceless horrors plagued all nine continents, pale-skinned and shaped like humans.
She paled, staring at the bodies—once people, now faceless, nameless, stripped of identity.
Her mind echoed with a passage from the old travel journal:
I can no longer remember their names or faces. The forest had taken them—or so we assumed. By the sixth month of the expedition, we had stumbled upon the nest of a group of Face Stealers. These creatures, normally solitary, had defied expectations. They had formed hordes. Many of us fell—our names and faces taken. The battle was dire. We wiped out most of these vile abominations… save for one. Too weak, we thought, to pose a threat.
We sent a hunting party to finish it. But we've forgotten their names… their faces… slain by the creature.
