Warning: Ehm, it's the end of the world so… you know… it's basically all horrible and gross with lots of death and suicides and stuff. Lots of triggers and things that will make you join my paranoid train! CHOO CHOO WE ARE NEVER LEAVING because apparently we're all going to die.

A/N: Listen, I don't even know what I'm doing but I watched creepy 2012 documentaries for a while and then this happened.

No one cared anymore.

Kurt quit his job 2 weeks ago and has gone from being the assistant to a clothing designer to being a full time alcoholic. He was trapped in the city that he had wanted to get to so bad when he was younger… now he wanted nothing more but to escape it. But he didn't know how. He didn't have a car, taxis that didn't rape its customers were very rare these days and all other public transport had stopped. People quit their jobs. There were no people to drive the trains, to sell you tickets, to take you from point A to point B safely. He'd thought about stealing a bus, or a train but didn't. Not because he'd feel guilty about it; no one cared. He could steal a bus and no one would ever judge him, no one would even miss it or want it back. He hadn't stolen a bus, because there were no buses to steal. People had turned busses into campers and were making road-trips that lead away from home and never turned back. Hobos had turned busses into homes, where it was warmer and safer than it was outside on the streets. Sure, almost no bus still had all its windows, but given the choice of sleeping on a park bench or sleeping on a bus, the decision had been an easy one.

Kurt hadn't stolen a train either. He'd once ventured onto a subway platform, or tried to at least, but the horrible scent had made him turn around and go back to ground level. He didn't know what it was that he had smelled, but the only thing he could think of was death. It must have been the smell of people who had committed suicide. People that had thrown themselves off of buildings were simply thrown down the stairs of the subway because they wouldn't be in the way down there…

New York City had turned into something Kurt had only ever seen in films. This isn't what he'd pictured it to be like, ever. It was a violent place, with cars set on fire, explosions a few blocks away that had people screaming and made other car alarms go off that would ring for hours until the car batteries died. Kurt was stuck in hell and all he wanted was to be with people he loved. Most ideally, his parents back in Lima, Ohio.

They called every day, but phone-calls can only satisfy a person so much. It wasn't the same kind of comfort Kurt found when he hugged his dad, and what feared him the most was that he probably would never get the chance to receive one of those hugs ever again. Not if he had to believe what the news said;

In approximately three weeks, the earth would no longer be.

They were preparing people for something no one could ever be prepared for. And for what reason? They'd all die. Completely gone. Washed out.

Kurt was surprised there was still a newsreader, reading the news, even though you could tell he was alone in the studio- the camera never went off, and the reporter looked worse each day. Like he never left the space behind his desk, right next to the phone and a laptop where he would receive news to tell everyone who was watching.

Kurt rarely ventured outside of his apartment anymore. He was up high enough so people couldn't throw in his windows, so it was the one place where he felt safest. But he was out of liquor, and he needed more. There was nothing worse than being completely conscious, knowing that there was no point… so he numbed himself. Every morning he'd wake up and Kurt would feel it; realization. He was never hung over because there was no time for his body to be hung over; he was always drinking, never stopped. But there came times when there was nothing more to drink, which meant he needed to go outside to get more.

"Noodle, I'll be right back. Don't have an orgy with randoms whilst I'm gone." Kurt spoke to his cat, his joke painfully close to the truth, but Noodle only gave him a blank stare. Kurt looked at him for a moment before sighing and going out the door, not even bothering to bring any money.

Kurt left his apartment and for a second thought about taking the elevator down to the lobby. If he'd get stuck, it wouldn't matter anyway, would it?

It wouldn't.

But somehow, he couldn't do it… he didn't know why, but he had such a strong need to survive even though he'd accepted his death a long time ago. For some reason he needed time to be stretched out, no matter how horrible it got. He couldn't figure it out, and he decided he wouldn't because it was all a waste of time anyway. He took the stairs.

In the lobby he found the security guard, Al, sleeping behind his desk. Kurt was surprised to see him there in the first place, but had to stop and roll his eyes at the stupidity of the situation, stomping his foot as he did so. The sudden sound of Kurt's boot hitting the floor made Al pipe up, like he'd woken up from a terrible nightmare. Scared eyes looked around, until they landed on Kurt.

"Oh, Mr Hummel. I'm sorry if I startled you, I-"

"Go home, Al. Go see your wife. Go tell your kids you love them." Kurt interrupted him. Kurt almost felt the need to get angry, but knew that Al was only behind his desk because he was a loyal, kind man who cared about his job.

"I barricaded the entrance for safety. Sorry for the inconvenience, the only way to go outside is from the fire-escape on the first floor." Al completely ignored everything Kurt said to him. He looked so tired, Kurt felt he needed to say something, but Al showed a hopeless smile and gestured toward the stairs-door that Kurt had just came from. Kurt decided against telling Al to stop working and said thank you as he turned around and made its way back up the stairs.

Climbing out of a large window onto a fire escape is something Kurt had never done before, but had seen it in films and TV shows all the time. What he didn't know is that it did involve a little bit of skills he didn't know he was going to need and he very nearly fell, almost hitting his head on the railing of the small balcony-type platform he was on. A little shaken, he eventually made it out safely and worked out how to lower the stairs to climb down on.

When finally on the street, he brushed down his clothes and looked around. The last time he'd been outside, the place had looked a lot more alive. Sure, there were people setting bins on fire and breaking into cars, but that was because there were things to get, things to steal because everyone knew that no one was stopping them.

Now his block was deserted. In the far distance he could hear sirens. Sirens of what he suspected were stolen police vehicles that weren't even moving, but were abandoned and were just there. The breeze made everything light enough fly through the streets; pages out of newspapers that didn't read anything new, food wrappers of stolen food because every store and every supermarket no longer had people managing it and other rubbish. It made Kurt's heart ache to see the place he loved so dearly become such a dump.

His short walk to the closest store was anything but pleasant. Kurt was on look-out, constantly looking around him, jumping at every noise and silently counting the escaped or left-behind pets that would try and find food wherever they could. If Kurt could, he'd take in all of them so they could be happy, and warm and fed, but he knew he could never do such a thing. He'd know how it would end; he'd start with a cat. Just some company for Noodle. But then another, maybe a pet from one of his neighbours that he could cry out at night, hoping someone would answer them and give them the slightest bit of attention. He'd end up with a flat full of animals he couldn't feed which meant they would start to feed off of each other and he'd have that happen outside rather than inside his apartment. Taking care of just Noodle was a task.

Kurt reached the main street and could see the store from where he was standing, pressed against a building, hoping no one with bad intentions would see him. The store had thrown in windows and he knew there wasn't gonna be much left; people took what they could take, it was all for free now.

Stepping through the large shop window, his foot landed on glass that was all over the floor and he winced at the noise it made. He'd been so quiet, and even though his part of the city looked deserted, there were still people everywhere. People like Kurt, that had no reason or no way to leave. The noise of glass didn't get a reaction, and so he silently started searching the store; alcohol, if there was any at all, and cat food. That was all he needed.

As expected, the entire liquor section was empty, with more broken glass on the floor. He sighed and was almost ready to accept that he had to sober up now- something he wasn't really looking forward to. He looked around at other shelves for a while, pleased that he was completely alone, but not so pleased with the fact that there was in fact nothing for him to take home. Not even cat food.

With his head bowed down, he walked past the mostly empty shelves, back to the broken window he'd entered the store through. When he walked past the registers, he suddenly realized something. Every store had a back, a stockroom, a depository; a place where potentially there were piles and piles of unpacked goods. He knew that people had probably thought to check there too, but it couldn't hurt to check it out. Besides, he'd never been in a stockroom of a supermarket and suddenly wanted to explore. He found the door that lead to the back and took a deep breath before opening it. For a second he thought it might have been locked, but it flew open, pushing some things that were on the floor aside.

There wasn't much, but he did find cat food which was something. Along with some other items, he searched for a plastic bag until he'd found one and started loading it up. Enough cat food to last three weeks, enough cheese, enough crackers, enough chicken soup- it was all there, and Kurt thought about how people had missed this. This place wasn't completely trashed, and still had enough food for a couple of Italian families to last until…

A sudden sound made Kurt freeze in his tracks. He winced slightly at the noise his plastic bag still made. He didn't move for a few seconds and waited for another sound to detect where it came from and if he'd be in danger or not.

When after a while, he still hadn't heard anything, he started packing up quick. Toilet paper, face wash, rubber gloves – he didn't need half the stuff, but he took items because they were there and he might need them because no one knew exactly what was coming.

Then that noise again. Instead of freezing or hiding, Kurt sped up his actions and when the paper bag had reached its limit, he was ready to run home. Run back to safety.

But just as he was about to turn around and leave, a sharp poke in his back made him welp and he froze completely. A gun.

"Don't move." A low, strong voice demanded.