Apocalypse

January 3, 1998

     It was pitch dark, no sign of sunshine anywhere. I was running. Running from something I could not see. I  was sprinting, running as fast as I could but I wasn't moving. The thing was catching up to me: I was able to see the face. Or what was left of it. The left side of the face was blown off by a gun at close proximity; the rest of the flesh was hanging off by a thread; its few teeth were blanketed with black tartar and it was close to nakedness. I tried running again but it caught up, yanking me to the ground and nipping at my neck. Its breath smelled of decay, stinging my nose and causing my eyes to water. My skin crawled with the strange feeling of being eaten alive....

     I shot up from my awful nightmare, soaked with sweat. I ran a sweaty palm across the back of neck, making sure there were no bite marks. I looked at my cold arms which were covered in goose bumps. I sat in bed for a few more minutes until my seven o'clock alarm went off. I sulked out of my bed and moped to the bathroom. I did  look awful: my long, black hair looked like I had been electrocuted; my goatee was scruffy and getting too long but I had been to lazy to shave it what with school and baseball; my face was paper-white like it always is in the morning.

     Oh! Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself! I'm Daniel. Daniel Warren. Yes, son of the famous Justin Warren, an exceptional Homicide detective: one of the best. He was killed was trying to catch the suspect linked to a string of grotesque murders over a period of forty years, shot fifteen times, which seems a little unnecessary. I was only eight. Anyway I play baseball, but I've played other sports like basketball, football, tennis, soccer, track. I'm a religious man and I strongly believe in charity: I've given away almost 100k throughout my twenty-five years of living. My family was rich, my mother was a neurosurgeon. I once had a twelve-year old sister, not anymore. I'll go into more detail at a later time when I feel like it.

     I live in Chadron, Nebraska with my two best friends Blake and Reed. We've been friends since childhood. We all go to Chadron State College: I plan to major in sports medicine, Blake wants to major in Law Enforcement, and Reed plans to major in psychology.

     I stripped off my wet clothes and hoped in the hot shower. As I dressed, I began to text Blake and Reed to see if they would like to hang out after school and work.

How's 8 work?

- Blake

That's  fine. Is Reed coming?

-Daniel

Yes. He should be! See you at Country Kitchen at 8?

-Blake

Yep.

-Daniel