I woke up in a gray-red haze, my head throbbing as I pushed myself off the floor. When did I get on the floor? I thought. The last thing I remembered was walking down the street on my way to Ma and Pa's. Now, there was fire, smoke, and gore all over the place, the place now looked how everyone thinks it does, like burning Hell. My first thought was to get home and see if everyone was alright. When I walked in the door the first thing I saw was my little brother's corpse splayed across the living room floor. It looked like he was setting up a board game. I looked up and saw the slumped form of Ma over the counter with Pa dead in the hallway, his head two feet away from his neck.

That day everyone I knew died. The bodies of my friends and family lay bloody and rotting on the floors and streets, most of their bodies seeming to have exploded from the inside, others looked like they had been ripped to shreds with a sharp blade. There wasn't a living being in sight, just piles upon piles of corpses. Demon, vampire, human, anthropomorphic, you name it, they were all dead and gone. And from the looks of it they had been for a long time.

I let out a sigh. I knew I would live to see the end of the world but I had never thought it would all just end in a snap, nor had I thought it would end so soon. I guess that one kidl was right, you never really know what's gonna happen next.

After checking around for any survivors I let out a groan. "Fuuuck. Now I'm going to have to find my own food." I normally just cuss in my head but hey, no one's around, so who in hell's gonna tell you not to? I didn't really need food, it was more of a luxury. Immorality's my element after all, I can't die. I could literally go on for eons and not need to eat. However, I'm not exactly normal and immortality has its price so I can still go hungry and hurt all I want, I just won't die. Because of this, life can be pretty annoying sometimes. Being an immortal being isn't really all it's chalked up to be.

I scavenged around through the city, breaking into people's houses in search of anything I might wanna bring with me before I leave. Hey! There's not anything wrong with going into people's houses, they were all dead anyway.

I eventually settled on a backpack containing mainly a couple flashlights, food, and clothes. Ya know, for comfort. I slid a machete into one of the belt loops on the side of my jeans. I didn't exactly need it but I prefer not to get hurt and it can take forever for my body to come back together sometimes.

Walking though the relative wasteland of my home town, I started to notice somebodies were more decayed than others, the newer ones looked to have been killed by something other than an internal explosion, it was more like they had been cut up, they were the ones that looked more like shredded rags. I picked up part of one of theses hacked bodies to find the screaming face of my friend. I dropped it in shock. My hand started to shake. Finally the horror of the situation was starting to get to me.

I started to panic a little, by this point in my life my sentiment towards other people had nearly faded out completely. I was disappointed and ashamed by this. I should feel SOMETHING. But I didn't. Instead I collapsed from the fumes from the city.

I awoke on the outskirts of Hell, a little beat up but otherwise OK. I suspect I pulled myself out of the in my unconscious state. When everyone was still alive a was notorious for sleepwalking, always getting into trouble in my sleep. I still laugh at some of the things that happened.

There was this one time that I went out to the convenience store, obviously sleeping, and some guy tried to mug me. I nearly snapped his neck and he shot me in the face. That woke me up. I was so confused. Having the guy scream in my face didn't help, so I punched him.