The rubble is cutting my hands to ribbons, and the dust is filling my lungs, trying to suffocate me in a slow, painful manner. Filling my body with what felt like concrete, making my joints and limbs heavy and stiff. My eyes are glass, and my eyelids sandpaper. Making it impossible to tell if keeping my eyes glued shut, or trying to peel them open and make the slow and painful blinks. But I was motivated. With a sudden burst of light, my arms broke through the last bits of rubble.

I gasped for clean air not polluted with dirt and dust, only to find the air full of cigarette smoke, burning oils and gasoline, and a thick iron taste painted against my tounge. As my lungs filled with air, it felt like stones were grinding together in my chest. I opened my eyes and looked around the devastating scene, ignoring the smoke biting into my corneas like needles.

The buildings that were once tall and powerful, were just skeletons of the iron structures. The others were crumpled in a sad heap on the floor smoke dancing up from the ruins. And the worst part was, I knew exactly who did it.

I grew up in this broken world, with a broken family, and a broken society. But the people did not want to be broken. Except for him. He wanted to test his limits. Brake in whatever way possible, be remembered as the villain. A villain with no hero. The difference between the two of us is, he brakes, but you can bend me and hurt me but i won’t brake. Be a little twisted maybe, but brake? Never.

If there is a reason I am alive while the rest of the cities citizens have died, I will find it.

While my body was physically in pain, I only felt the burning sensation of my blood beginning to boil. Get ready for his blood to flood the streets, drip into every gutter.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I see red. Everyone thing’s see makes me want to fall and scream. The crumpled and deformed bodies, the crimson lining the streets, all of it. Not a single breath no matter how deep, never feels fulfilling enough for survival. The anger causing everything to become tense. Everything to ache.

Like I thirst that is itching at the back of my throat, and no matter how much I drink, this things can never be quenched. And now I can see;

This man feels no guilt, No remorse, No shame.

But he will feel pain. I’ll make sure of it.

Garbage man A king on his thrown With nothing but broken pieces And disassembled waste Now that you have everything And none of it is whole Are you still glad that you remain?

The end came in a fiery wave. A cacophonous chorus of screams, cries and terror. And it was over just as quickly leaving behind nothing but silence. No birds in the trees, no cicadas in the shrubbery and no annoying family to whinge and moan at you. There are so few of us left now and we are all strangers. Some of us were unlucky enough to be underground when they came. The tube, the stuffy underground train that so many used and everybody hated, turned out to be the only salvation from the end, or the worst damnation. Depending how you look at it. I choose to see the downside. Of course, I’m too chickenshit to shuffle myself off this mortal coil. At least right now. After all, the world has ended and we that remain have nothing but time. Literally. Sometime soon though, I’ll see them again. My husband with his irritating sense of humour and endless, useless hobbies. And her. I miss them both. And there really is nothing left to live for. The daily grind is a fight for survival. Against the others that survived for the rare packaged food that can be salvaged between the blood and the bodies. For the weaponry fashioned out of broken down car engines and busted rusty tools. But the time to die isn’t now. There is one thing more important than meeting them in the great beyond. Vengeance. And it will be mine. It is the saddest of truths that we caused our own destruction. The human race is a deeply flawed thing. And before I leave this world and reunite with what was once mine, I pledge to rid the world of what is left of us. That will be my legacy. So prepare yourself because I’m coming for you next. When I am truly alone here, then and only then will I join you. But first, vengeance shall be mine. It shall be theirs. My husband... and my baby girl. I’ll butcher them all. All for you.

Everything is nothing and nothing is everything.

He towers over the vast nothingness that seems to overtake the city, the country, the world, the universe. The ringing in the ears doesn’t seem to stop from the amount of gunshots and fatal screams he heard over the past seven days. He never imagined that the written fate in the holy book would actually happen, but even more he didn’t expect to survive it.

Some could say that it was pure luck. But where is the luck when everyone you once knew and loved died in the hands of bloodthirsty creatures of the hell? Not like he actually had someone he deeply cared for. He wouldn’t have locked himself up in his apartment for 15 years without social interaction if it he actually had someone. And the only form of affection he ever got was the money his father would sent him monthly. He was okay with that.

As he watched the pile of junk that, most probably, flattened the people under it. He watched as the blood was stil gushing out of people, some still moaning in pain. He didn’t move to help them or even end their pain. He just stood there watching. There was a minimum chance of anyone surviving this catastrophe. But as he sat there and watched he started contemplating what is there to do.

There is nothing. But nothing is everything and everything is nothing.

Would he attempt to save the humanity by actually helping the people that are living by a hanging thread? Would he put his shoulder in for once and try to aid other people and restore humanity once again? Try to create a better society, new political forms, be there when the new traditions would form, when the folk tales would form. Would he try be a part of history?

He jumped off the pile of junk stumbling on some debris and scraping his skin on the way down. He hissed in pain but brushed it off immediately as he saw a man in his soldier uniform who has been moaning for the past hour in pain. Other than the crushed lower half of the body, he might even function as a proper human if he got the proper aid.

He eyes the gun in front of the soldier and takes it in his hands and tries to feel its weight. He has seen this type of assault rifle in many games he has played over the years. He was sort of excited to actually hold something that seemed so familiar but never actually touch before.

He has been a leech from the day he was born. He wouldn’t start providing for humanity now.

He placed the rifle in his mouth.

I’m not too sure how I feel about this subject so yeah