Simple question: What do you do when the world ends?
Everyone had an answer for it, some people had even planned and prepared for when it happens, but no one really ever could predict how you would react. You could have an infinite amount of contingency plans, there was one factor that could never be prepared for even when taken into account.
The human factor.
Unpredictable, dangerous, prone to fear. They were the reason the apocalypse would continue after it started, they chose, instead of helping one another or fighting alongside each other, to take the chaos as the opportunity to let their darkest desires come out. Desires that you never admit to anyone you enjoy, not even to yourself.
An apocalypse where once infected your most animalistic instincts come out yet keeping your intelligence. This world will truly be the end because when an entire species has to turn on each other is the beginning of extinction.
Now imagine a family with eleven children, two parents, an old man, a dog, a canary, a hamster, a cat, and a frog. Typical family with arguments , disagreements, rough housing, bonding, so on and so forth.
Putting this family in a world ending situation where your greatest nightmares come to life and your greatest fears await around every corner.
What choices will they make?
Who will they protect?
When will the consequences catch up with them?
How will they let themselves be changed by it?
Life was over. Staring down his walkie talkie in hopes that the sounds of static accompanied by a whiny voice of my best friend. This wasn't a dream the living hell that was taking over the earth was the cruelest of realities.
Before the world was dangerous walking outside held danger, but it was subtle dangers, getting hit with a car, dogs attack you, a mugging. All of these were possibilities that could happen at moment but now it was a whole new ball game. This new disease didn't end you it took you, made you worse, made you dangerous one of them almost got in the house.
In movies with zombies you can at least tell who is who, with movies that have a disease it may kill you but never something like this. This was the seventh circle of hell pure violence no meaning behind it, it was violent just for being violent.
Lincoln was pulled from his thoughts as the static went off on his walkie.
As a father it was your duty to protect not only your family but put your life on the line in there place die if need be. Lynn had failed as a father, one of those things had almost had gotten, beating down on the door using only its bare hands.
Seeing those deranged eyes filled with the intent kill, maim, destroy all in its path, for the first time in Lynn's long life he had felt the purest of fears. Where your knees buckle, cold sweat down your back, tears form in the eyes, hands never stop shaking like the most fragile leaf in the wind, and cinderblocks take the place of your feet ceasing any and all movement.
He didn't remember how the beast had been pushed back all he new was that after it was gone his wife was in front of him with the same look the beast had. Blood dripping from her forehead.
Lynn had failed as a father once, he would not fail again.
Darkness was her closest ally it was all she ever remembered being a part of, but there were even places in the spirit world she would never dream of visiting. Those places had come from spiritual plane to the physical one, she might love gloomy, depressing scenes but she was still eight years old. People killing each other would affect anyone even this gloomy tar hair little girl with skin pale like the moon.
Setting up her candles she began to sit in the lotus position she began her chant hoping to connect to the undead, get answers to what was going on.
"Please oh wise spirits, of those long past, impart your wisdom onto me, why have the living begun to attack each other."
No response. There was never a response. Lucy would lie to her family about being able to connect to the dead souls. She believed in them it down to her very core she believed in them, she just couldn't contact them.
But she would keep trying, she would never stop, this is one of things that only she can do after all.
Babies are not as unintelligent as people make them out to be. They have basic survival functions, are some of the best judges of characters, and can change a mood in the room with a single action purposely.
Currently Lily was living up to basic survival skills, she was not making a sound. When she wanted to cry she didn't, she didn't say "poopoo," even though she wanted to. Sitting there in silence while Lisa ran all over her room doing things that failed to capture the infant's interest.
Beginning to doze off after being up for who knows how many hours, Lily didn't feel the hands lift her out her grab.
She didn't feel the diaper being changed.
Nor did she feel the cool air as she was brought outside.
But most of all she didn't feel the wind as the person carrying her began to run as fast as they could.
Bobby wasn't picking up. He never missed her calls, she had called twenty seven times and he still had yet to send her even a single text message. All the tall blonde wanted was her beloved boo-boo bear to pick up and talk to her the way they used to. It wasn't just him no one was picking it was like everyone in her life had just up and vanished.
Her siblings were all that was left but did that really matter when the whole was out to end them. What was the point of being alive if everyone around you was either dead or trying to make you dead.
She looked down at the knife, its cold steel, light bounced off of the edge, picking it up she slowly brought it down to her wrist.
Then felt the warm liquid leave her.
All of the Loud's feel this is the worst watching friends leave and family die, nothing could be worse.
Little do the know the storm has only begun.