Sera Henry

The Final Storm

The rain fell on the concrete like drips of black oil, thick and heavy. It coated everything in a dark shiny sheen, as if the world had been dropped in a tank of toxic waste. I don't know if it could even be called rain anymore. The stench of it was revolting and I could no longer remember the rain the way that it was before. Matter of fact I couldn't remember much at all how our world was before the sky turned black. I couldn't even remember who I was or who I had been. What I did know was how to survive and my instincts were telling me I couldn't stay out here on the streets much longer. The rain brought with it the Wrens and the rest of the monsters that we lived with now. The few of us that survived, have spent half a year in hiding, or fighting for our lives. There are pockets of humans left, at least that's what I hear. When you run into travelers, there is no way to know if the information we share is real or we are all just trying to make sense of this disaster, hopeful for some sort of a future. During the first days, we all thought the storm would go away. We hid, we found others, and we sheltered in place together. Until the food ran out, and our supplies got low, and people started killing each other before the Wrens even got to them. We all turned into our own monsters just to survive and it didn't take as long as you’d think. It wasn't just the streets that were unsafe then, our bunkers and hideouts were covered in blood as well.