All Alone
I stumbled around, in a daze. Everything was dead. Where I went, bodies lay, buildings still burned, wrecked vehicles, crashed planes, bodies everywhere, all in silent testimony of the horrors that had happened just a week ago.
It started with a few, corrupting them, turning them against family and friends. Murders, in the dead of night. Soon, it was a full rebellion. Half the world had gone insane, ripping apart former schoolmates, coworkers, family, and friends in a blood induced frenzy.
I had fought. I had to shoot my friends. It...It was horrible. I can still see....I can still see there maddened, bloodied faces, ripping apart everything in their sight......
And when he was the last one left, he had hid. And watched..
Without anyone left to kill, they had turned on themselves. Renewed flames had roared through the night, and there I lay, in some damned, dark, abandoned cellar.
Three days.
They had managed to kill each other in three days. I went out, and I saw the ones who survived take their own lives, their blood lust finally consuming them.
Dead. They were all dead. No one left.
I had walked around for a week. Scavenging off bodies for food, water, medical supplies, anything I could use. Despite everything, I still wanted to survive.
Walking through the streets.....All is quiet. Absolute quiet. I fear I've gone deaf, with nothing to listen to. I don't think I can speak either. No, no, I'm not deaf. The one sound left in this world is the crunching of my boots, as they carry me not towards salvation, or death, but towards another day. Another set of bodies...