AFTER ARMAGEDDON - 0 -

- Never Forget -

They came in the night.

That’s how all of those fancy, mainstream horror novels seem to start. Dark and stormy. They are then turned into even fancier, over the top movies; a medium where part of our imagination dies, but other senses stimulated. Monstrosities, darker than the shadows they maneuver through, looming over their prey. Never seen, or heard, until it is already too late. You are lucky to get out a scream before you are shred to pieces, brutally mauled, or subjected to some other manner of sick, twisted macabre imagined. I was never much for horror films; I could barely stomach them, even knowing it was all fake. I believe now it would be a cakewalk. It is amazing how the mind can adapt.

I think, had they come in the night, we would have been better off. Even in the fleeting moments of death, the phrase “ignorance is bliss” holds true. Sometimes it is best to be left in the dark; never fully aware. Even if what we don’t “know” can and is hurting us.

Maybe, had they come in the night, I wouldn’t be apt to so vividly recreate the horrors that stalk me in my dreams; every time I close my eyes. Every time my mind strays, unfocused. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference, because you could never forget the screaming. Whether the sky had been ruled by the sun or the moon, when the event took place, the screams would have been there. There was no escaping it. That was the key. The key that inevitably snapped you out of believing it was all just a nightmare; back to reality. People were dying, you were dying. The world was dying.

You could never forget the screaming.

I will never forget the screams.

AFTER ARMAGEDDON

CHAPTER ZERO

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE