The Art of Death Vol I

Chapter 1

March 25th, 2172

2172, mankind has been near extinction for 75 years. Ever since the unexplainable outbreak when the dead came back to life. March 5th, 2097 was the day the world as we knew it ended. Billions of people have died from being eaten alive by those things. The unknown virus was faster than any illness combined. A cure was being researched, but no one could find it. Pretty soon, we all gave up. I heard a rumor of a refugee camp in Northeastern Canada. My name is Oliver Saxon. I am a survivor of the third outbreak of 2152, twenty years ago. When I was born. My grandfather was a survivor from the second and first outbreaks. He died in 2132 when he was just 52 years old. My parents died on the day of the third outbreak; the day I was born. The military, or what was left of it, protected the young at all costs. I am writing this for my journey to Northeast Canada, to find a safe place to survive.

I wrote in my journal, before heading off. I was sitting in a church. The death ridden things, or Beasts, attacked here too. They attacked and killed all of the militia group I was a part of. They attacked out of nowhere; fifty of them upon us before we had a chance to draw our weapons. We didn't stand a chance.

I stood up, and looked at the corpse ridden room. The corpses of the beasts and my allies were scattered all around. Soon, the dozen or so militia, will be reanimated.

"May as well burn this place to the ground," I whispered to myself. I was also bored and wanted to have some fun. We were all heading to Canada in a military van our "leader" made. The thing broke down and blew up. Of course, it only blew up when I shot it out of anger. We had matches, all of us were given some for survival. Luckily, I never really needed to use any. All I needed was a gas tank, or some source of gas and the place would become engulfed in an inferno. The church had no doors except for a front door. It had to have a basement somewhere. I pulled out my handgun and searched the church.

I started to think of the story the "Leader" liked to tell from our history to ease my nerves. Apparently, we didn't have a lot of tech advances recently. Ever since the Treaty of 2025, which stopped the advancement of weapon technology, we were stuck in a rut for over one hundred fifty years. The president at the time, whom I don't know the name of, signed the treaty of compassion. It was to help "stop" terrorism. After we nuked the Middle East and killed off the terrorist groups at the time, it was a time of peace and prosperity. The president was anti-war, atheist, and blamed weaponry and religion for the atrocities. We, instead, focused on medical advances, which increased the average lifespan to that of at least ninety-years old. Of course, we had no plans for the apocalypse that happened seventy-five years ago. Because of the advancement, life seemed to keep going and going. Until the apocalypse, that is, then our medicine stopped working, rendering all of our advances completely useless.

I looted the corpses. I found guns, but with no ammo. Pointless to drag on extra weight if it won't help. I did find bullets for my handgun, however, but none for the others. I gripped my handgun in both hands. I knew there had to be a basement entrance somewhere. All churches have one. I looked under the carpet- nothing. I exited the church and walked around it since I didn't every side to it yet. The back did have a door that didn't lead into church, but it was locked. I hit the window to try and unlock it from the other side, but it wouldn't break. It had to be bullet proof glass.

"Shit!" I hollered. I had to find a key or a way to bust the lock. Then, it hit me. I took my handgun and hit the butt of it against the doorknob a couple of times until it fell off. The door creaked open and I stepped inside.

It was somewhat dark in the basement. The only light I had was from the sun beating in from the doorway. I walked further inside and lit a match for more light. There was still no sign of gas or anything like it. I started hearing groaning. It sounded like one of the Beasts. It was getting louder and louder. I couldn't see anything since the light from my match was still dim. I moved it around and saw nothing. The basement seemed a little bigger than average, but I wasn't complaining. I just needed to search more. I kept walking, but I couldn't see the thing that was making the groaning sound. It was getting louder as I walked through, but still saw nothing. The sound it was making was getting more obnoxious and grotesque by the second. The smell of rotting flesh and mildew entered my nostrils. I gagged, but kept searching; hoping to come across a light source. I could barely keep the gun in my hands from the sweating and shaking. My heart was racing a mile a minute. All I could hear was the beats of my own heart. Thump, thump thump. The groaning wouldn't stop. The smell of death of was bad enough to make me almost vomit. The sound the thing was making was extremely close to me. It seemed like it was practically groaning in my ear. I bumped into something dangling. It was a pull switch. I pulled on it and the light turned on slowly, making a clicking sound. I heard a growl behind me as I turned around to see the doorway. Then, I felt something grab me; making me jump and drop the match on my boot. I looked down to see a slimy, greenish-blueish, diseased ridden wrapped around my ankle. I kicked it off me and the match landed on the hand and lit on fire. The fire followed the arm back to the body and caught the rest of the beast on fire. Burning it slowly as it screeched at me. It continued to crawl slowly towards me, the fire still blazing. I held my gun steadily and pulled the trigger. The bullet entered it's eye socket, brains and blood splattered all over my boot and the floor. The fire finished burning the rest of him before it went out in a few minutes.

I checked around the basement for gas. I came across this heater. I turned around and checked outside. It was almost dusk. That's when the Dusks come out.

"Shit," I whispered. I went back to the entrance, and aimed my gun at the heater. I hesitated, but I forced myself to pull the trigger. The bullet rang through my ears, and went through the heater. At first, nothing happened. Eventually, gas started spilling out and rushed towards the doorway. I lit another match, and threw it on the stream of gas. I ran as fast as possible away from the church. When I was just out of the blast range, I heard the satisfying explosion of a job well done. The sight of raining debris and body parts was all the more satisfying. I had a sigh of relief, but it didn't last long as I heard more hissing and moaning.

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