2 months, 14 days, 20 hours, 3 minutes, and 57 seconds. that's how long this this apocalypse dragged on, you counted each every second as a nervous tick of yours. each second that passes your very sanity has gotten more and more low, with anxiety growing above the limits.

You remember the day vaguely as all that happened was a big blur, one moment you was cooking dinner and the next everything outside was on fire....you'd rather not recall the rest of that day, the thought could make you go insane.
since then, you and your children have hid in a old bunker with the remaining fighters that managed to escape the beasts alive.
it is decent enough for a old dust and moss filled bunker, enough food and meds to last the group for a while at the begining.

However as time goes by like a ticking bomb, everything for survival gets more difficult. food surprisingly is not the problem, as most of the people here made a small farm by digging out a part of the bunker for space, it is the medicine and water that is the problem.
the ones who scavenge up at the surface returns injured and need any medicine that is available to keep them alive as long as possible, water is hard to come by as the lakes above has started to turn red and undrinkable, some of that water is for watering the plants so your boys can eat a meal....

With a pen in hand you write and crunched numbers on how long the rations will last until there's nothing left, you are not the leader but you play many important roles such as managing rations and strategize plans on survival up on the surface. you written and thought about it all for many hours, all leading to the same results.

You can't tell if it's your paranoia or if its hope that you made a mistake somewhere and the outcome will be better then the last, your grip tightens as the same answer has showed up again... you sighed and put your face in your gloved hands, what can you even do? you remembered reading of apocalypse scenarios in your youth and things never end well for anyone...

Your heart grew heavy as you thought of your 3 sons, this world is no place for innocent children...one has already suffered enough and you swore to yourself you would never let it happen again. your eyes weld up with tears...you can't cry now, you need to be strong. for your boys

You sigh once more as you wiped the tears that threatened to fall and straightened up, you will be fine...

The rhythm of the clock that rests on your desk draws your attention through the deafening silence, it is a quarter till 3. you have almost forgotten it was night time, it is hard to tell in a underground bunker if its day or night, you considered going to bed before you felt a hand tug your sleeve. turning to face the person and you see a small fox, his fur gray as a cloud on a rainy day, his sclera is pitch black unlike a normal white color of the eyes with bright crimson irises, around his eyes is scarred and bleed crimson almost black tears/blood, he is wearing pjs covered in constellations with small spots of red on the collar as some of his tears dripped on his clothes.

It is your son X, he stares at you with furrowed brows and a frown to mimic a sad expression, yet he says nothing.
you looked at him with surprise "X? what are you doing up?" you asked before turning towards him in your office like chair, he continues to say nothing but instead just hugs you as he begins to shake and hiccup, starting to quietly cry. you wrap your arms around him in return "another nightmare...?" you asked as he nods his head in response, you picked him up in your arms, not minding your clothes getting stained red.

"It's ok X, you are ok..." you soothed the crying fox before humming a song, walking to his room to put him back to bed. X had fallen victim to one of the monsters up above but even if his very appearance changed he remained the same personality, however his eyesight is not as good as it was before, he never tells what happened because he cries and has a panic attack once asked...

You would never let anyone ask him about what happened above, no matter how persistent they can be, the poor child is traumatized enough.
after many moments of soothing X he finally fell back asleep and you tucked him in, you then checked his brothers before you finally head to bed yourself, tomorrow is another day...