Click your fingers

Snap again.

Half of those survivors were taken in the chaos that followed, and half of that number again close on their heels.

Snap them again.

Our leaders, those that had so bravely run and hidden long enough to have made it through those first week or so tried to reach out to us. To warn us. Those that were left. The survivors.

They had the audacity to call us 'lucky'.

Lucky. Fucking unlucky more like. Or fucking cursed. I still haven't quite made up my mind on that one yet.

So we were considered lucky were we? Lucky that we were left with no homes, power, or medicine. Lucky that we had no way to stay warm, no clue what was really happening, and oh yeah, the shadows wanted to eat us. Yeah, we felt real lucky.

Those of us that made it through those days remember looking back and thinking about when that first wave washed over us. Some thought that maybe it was an earthquake. It couldn't be that of course. Earthquakes weren't targeted, they didn't hit every city at the same time.

Some thought it was a bomb. Lots and lots of bombs. But bombs explode. They go off, they disappear, leaving only the effects of the explosion as proof of their existence.

We had the whole word as proof. It's like that moment when you wake up in a new bed for the first time. That 'where the hell am I?' feeling.

Well imagine looking out of your window, hell, any window on Earth, and having the same feeling. Guess we're not in Kansas anymore Toto.

Most ended up believing it was the end of days, our judgment come. That they had been amongst the chosen ones, waiting for the Rapture to come and carry them away to a better place. They prayed, they repented, they confessed. Plead your sins aloud for a higher power to hear and surely they'd be saved. Maybe it was the end of days, but it wasn't any version of the tale I'd ever heard of.

They had been chosen alright, but it wasn't to go to a better place, that was for sure. They'd been chosen because they were the weakest. They were spared a quick, easy . They had been left alive simply because they weren't worth killing.

So the world turned, but with it's face forever changed. Humanities base desires were all they had left. Kill. Survive. Fuck.

My name is Dagaz, and I survived.

I've been around long enough to see the cause, solution, and the cure to what's befallen us, and I've gotten two lifetimes worth of stories from the ride. It's been a hell of a ride too.

Pay attention, and you might live long enough to get to hear some of them for yourself if you're lucky.

Neither Heaven nor Hell is my destination in the afterlife. I've made my own personal arrangements with those that try to take me to either, and I only booked a one way ticket on this journey.

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself here. Let me tell you about the first time I died. . .