The End

Lisa Carmona is a junior at Central High School and our second place winner for the It's A-LIVE! Story Submission Contest

I could remember flashes. He was on the ground. There was blood...so much blood. I can’t even remember if it was mine or his. There was the sound of bullets ringing. It echoes in my ears even now. My fingers still ache with the recoil of the gun I carried in my hand- I must’ve lost it in the frenzy to get away. And the smell… it was a horrible putrid smell; one that’s still engraved in my mind. From what I remember, from what I think, it was made up of the bodies burning, blood flooding, ashes falling, and our own sweat mixed together. It smelled like Death, and Death’s smell was the epitome of fear.

I was so close...

We were so close...

But they caught our scent.

It all escalated so quickly…

I remember running with my legs high, moving faster than I ever had before. Nothing makes someone run quite as fast as Death. And she sent her best mutts after us all. Cities fell. Countries collapsed. No one expected San Angelo, of all places, to be our solace--correction--my solace. We were in San Antonio, like true Texans, holed up in the Alamo. I suppose the universe wasn’t merciful enough to give that graveyard a winning battle. Needless to say, hell’s best hounds found us.

Back then, we had ten members of the group. Sean, Maria, John, Shelley, Lee, Kayla, Michael, Gus, Thomas, and me. Gus and I were the last ones. We weren’t even the strong ones. Well, Gus was. He was strong. Yet it was lil’ ol’ me, the weakling who couldn’t even drag herself away from the carnage that was once my friends.

When the Alamo was being painted with the crimson that once ran through their strong veins, Gus and I were supposed to be the ones to warn the group across town. The fires were never lit. I assume those guys became the next feast for the hell hounds after our group fell. I try to keep the images of their skin being torn by invisible predators. I try not to remember the screaming. To this day, I can’t even remember if it was mine or theirs. All I know is that it’ll haunt me beyond the grave.

Gus had been the one to fight. He fought while I stood frozen in fear. He was a hero, dragging a victim out of the fires, out of the city littered with the bodies that the hounds and whatever other monsters came forth. All the nightmares our parents told us not to believe in, all the monsters that we mocked and dressed as, turned out to be the ones to organize for centuries, and take back the world for themselves. Humans apparently had to be eradicated. I guess making people like us was never our strong suit.

Most demons, or whatever the hell they were, didn’t bother to hunt us down. They left that to their insatiable mutts, the creatures that only knew hunger. And boy was that a wise choice. In a populated country like America, in a state as plump as Texas? Well, it was an all you can eat buffet. Only, the down side is, we were the food.

Gus took me by the arms, pulling me away while our friends kept the hounds occupied. He didn’t bother to put them out of their misery as those things tore them apart. I never asked him why, but I guess if we had, we wouldn’t have gotten away. Hounds liked the screaming, the fighting, and the sheer panic we gave. They had to die in order for us to live. I’m sorry. I mean “me.”

Gus was my hero. Maybe that’s why he died.

Heroes weren’t meant to win. Not in the New World that the monsters created. Heroes did what was right. They saved people. They kept their humanity. They tried. I never tried. I tried to try, which probably means something, but I wasn’t a hero. I was a survivor. I adapted. I changed. I became a monster, only to survive in a world of monsters.

And here I am. San Angelo, Texas. Home, sweet, home.

Gus and I were born here, raised here, but he wouldn’t get the luxury of dying here. Once the mutts caught our scent in Junction, I knew we were toast. We tried running, driving, but in the rearview mirrors, Gus saw them. Not the hounds. No one can see the hounds except for those from or meant for Hell. Maybe I should have seen them… surely, I’ve earned my place there.

What Gus saw was a man in a suit. From his description, the man was calm, welcoming, and had this ominous look in his face. The only people calm were either dead, dying, or working for Death. The one Gus saw was the last option: a grim reaper.

I didn’t see him.

I wanted to though; and boy, did I want to.

Fate wasn’t kind, but to calm him, I said I did too. Gus didn’t deserve to die scared. Back before the world ended, he was planning on becoming a teacher, making the future brighter, but he never got the chance. Me? I had no plans. Even if I did, I doubt they’d be honorable. The only honorable thing in life I did was when I gave Gus a smile, watching as his eyes shut, thinking that there was still hope, when he was really just going to sleep for good. I couldn’t kill him with a gun that was meant for them. We had tons of meds though. He didn’t deserve to die young, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve to be torn apart either. Watching him leave peacefully was an act of kindness, my last act before evolving.

Because of that, I made it.

I made it home.

I made my way to the school. I couldn’t go to my actual home. I didn’t want to remember my family as the gore that probably consecrated the grounds. No, I went to school. I sat down and started typing this. I’m going to print this until the copier doesn’t work. I don’t know who’ll find this, and I wish I could have been more detailed… But I’ve got a gun, some bullets, and a man in a suit watching me right now.

The end is near. The dark is coming. And if you find this, keep it. Maybe you’ll save the world. Find the fight in you. Survive.

Do what I never could...

...because I’ve got a few bullets, but one is reserved for me. I’ll fight, but in the end, I won’t go down like a hero. I’m a coward.

I hope you don’t find me. If you do, end me. If I make it out of here alive, trust me when I say that who I once was, the person who was human, is gone.

Lastly, you should know where to go. I hear there’s a safe zone in Kansas City. I don’t know if it’s real or not. I just hope it’s enough for you to keep going.

- Deanna Walsh