Um, I wrote this ages ago and decided that it was a waste of space just sitting in my computer files, so I spell checked it and decided to post it. I hope you like it and if it's a little vague, I promise there will be explanations later on in the story. Please take the time to review and don't flame, they make me ever so sad.
The silence of a once busy street frightened me. Living here my entire life had taught me to tolerate the constant noise of thre city streets, the cars and the people but now it was silent. Many mornings I had woken up and the silence had scared me. Now when I woke I automatically knew there would be no noise. Because there was no one left to make any noise.
I looked down at the city street. Once busy and bustling with people, now empty. Cars were abandoned where they were, glass shattered, twisted metal from the cars that had been crushed together upon impact when the drivers were too awestruck to notice what was happening.
Another thing that stood out about the scene below me was the bodies. The blood had long since dried and now perminently stained the ground where the ruby drops fell. They didn't look like people anymore. Now they had begun to rot, making the streets below and truly horrible place to be. I preferred the sky scrapers above but sometimes it was necessary to walk below, with the rotting bodies of humanity. I looked ahead, searching the many empty streets for some kind of life. A movement. That was all I wanted. Just another person. Someone to watch my back now that there was no one left. I was beginning to think that there was no one left. That I was the last person on earth. The end of humanity with my death. I shuddered at the thought that when I died, no one would be left to remember me. I wanted to be remembered. I also wanted those I had lost to be remembered. I had lost everyone, my two brothers, my parents, my friends, even my enemies were dead. Back then, I avoided them sometimes, now I'd do anything for their company.
The ciity was so silent, you could hear the wind. Something that was never before possible. Not here.
Not in New York City.
I walked across the rooftop to the edge, briefly contemplating and dismissing any thoughts of juumping off the roof and plumetting to my death. I imagined that after the first attack a lot of people had jumped off high rises. I'd thought about it. I still think about it. But it would be a waste. A waste of what may be the only intelligent life left on this planet. I had a mission, something that I had to do. Something I would achieve, or die trying. I was going to destroy those responsible for the downfall of humanity. Something entire armies had tried and failed at doing. But back then, they didn't know how to fight them. I did.
Maybe we had brought this on ourselves. I didn't know and I didn't care. No one and nothing had the right to destroy our lives and our home. Nothing gave them that right.
I had never been religious, when the end had come, I didn't pray because religion wouldn't save us. No, religion was doing this to us. Our home, our planet had become a war zone. A war zone for two creatures I had never believed to be real. I wish I had, maybe then I would have had some warning. The first attack was led by the most horrible thing I had ever seen:
Hell spawn.
They rampaged and destroyed us. All the survivors took shelter and hid. Most of us prayed for a devine intervention. Something or someone to save us.
Then we thought our prayers had been answered when heavens warriors, angels, came to earth and started destroying the demons.
But we were wrong. They were not the answer to our prayers. They started destroying the demons, but they destroyed us too. No one knew why exactly they were trying to destroy us, all we knew was they were worse than the demons.
With both sides after us, it didn't matter who won the war, we lost.
The few of us who managed to survive the first and second attacks were lucky. Pure luck. People hid and tried to stay alive. They thought they were being smart. I didn't hide. I raided a shopping centre for knives and guns. I taught myself to use them to stay alive. I'm pretty sure my tactic was working, I was still breathing after all.
I looked over the edge of the rooftop and down into an alley. There was a building about two metres across with a fire escape. Good, it would be an interesting way down. I readied myself and then leapt. I landed with a thud on the fire escape and quickly made my way down the ladder.
If alleyways had smelled bad before Armageddon, then what they smelled like now didn't even have a name. The smell and sight of the bodies no longer bothered me. I had been stuck here with them for long enough and weakness was not something I could afford. It would have severely improved my day if there was another living breathing human being among the bodies but by now, I knew not to get my hopes up. It's not like God cares anymore, if he ever did in the first place. If he had cared, maybe he wouldn't have sent his stupid angels to murder us in our sleep. A single tear rolled down my cheek. That was how they had murdered my family. I found them in their beds, not moving or breathing.
I quickly wipe away the tear and tell myself the same thing I've been telling myself for months now:
No weakness.
Welcome to New York City, six months after Armageddon.
