The waking world was the land of the living, home to numerous lifeforms, great and small, and the means for subsistence altogether: even though many have questioned the existence of others like, and unlike, them, that fact it exists is enough to provide such certainty; alas, all is not well in this globe in particular and the reasons are far too much as is, so much so a category had to made in this case.
Otherwise known with a capital Zulu, this phenomenon happened to take place without so much as a warning, especially not in advance: as much as it'd started out small and controllable, they'd grown to innumerable heights and classes, even for the strongest of beings; not only that, the problem spread to other species capable of perambulation, most of which relied on premortem instincts but nothing more.
Either way, all that could be done for the survivors was escape and even then it'd not be enough just for that, especially given the situation: in their case, all that was needed was an plan of action and reaction -hold out until the storm and stress is over as soon as possible no less; of course, all it would take is a miracle and it was nothing short of distant and indefinite, at least as far as the party is concerned as is.
An entry for the A Thousand Words Contest III in the Horror category.
