Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S1 Ep44: Episode 44: Post-Apocalypse Horror

Episode Date: August 26, 2021

Our opening post-apocalyptic tale is ‘Hollow’, an original story by Valley Rat, read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license:  http://www.creepypasta.org/creepypasta/hollow  Next up we have ‘The Math Teacher’, an original work by Adi1605, read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license:  http://www.creepypasta.org/creepypasta/the-math-teacher  Our penultimate tale of terrot is ‘Persuaded’, an original story by GodzillaFan1, read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license:  http://www.creepypasta.org/creepypasta/persuaded Tonight’s final post-apocalyptic tale is ‘Rainfall’, an original story Richard Saxon, kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all: https://www.reddit.com/user/richard-saxon

Hey Ontario, come on down to BetMGM Casino and check out our newest exclusive. The Price is Right Fortune Pick. Don't miss out. Play exciting casino games based on the iconic game show. Only at BetMGM. Access to the Price is right fortune pick is only available at BetMGM Casino. BetMGM and GameSense remind you to play responsibly. 19 plus to wager, Ontario only. Please play responsibly. If you have questions or concerns about your gambling or someone close to you,

please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's dungeon. Apocalypse. Some say it's the eye of a needle, through which we pass into a different world. Four stories for you this evening. Later on we have The Math Teacher by Addie 1605.

Then we have persuaded by Godzilla Fanwa. We round off tonight's entertainment with rainfall by Richard Saxon. but we begin proceedings with hollow by valley rent. Now, as always, a word of caution. Tonight's stories may contain strong language, as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin. Oh, I don't know what's worse.

The screams that ended a few weeks ago, or the silence that has fallen since then. Before, I felt like everything should be done to help others. Now, in my self-reflection, I just don't know anymore. It was like any other day in the city, sunny, crowded and busy. I was walking to work at a large national bank, where I recently began an internship. I remember the day well because, besides the obvious fact that the world ended on this day, I'd finally convinced myself to talk to the cute secretary across the hall from me.

Things just seemed to be going my way that day. I walked to work every day, and the flow of traffic was straight to my way. That's when the alarm sounded. There was a mass panic, as is expected. I watched as thousands of people ran in hysteria, all going absolutely nowhere. Some of the people ran for the subways, anything deep in the ground. Now, there's only so many places to go, and as I stated before, people weren't getting very far. The only option I really had was to follow all those going into the subways.

There were some military personnel in the corridor instructing us down the tunnel, wearing full military gas suits, like they were equipped for some sort of bio-air attack. You couldn't see their faces at all, and they looked ominous. Some people were crying, and the children were screaming as their parents dragged them into the ever-darkening tunnel. It must have been a few hours that I walked. walked in darkness with crowds of people before more military personnel, dressed in similar attire as described before, signalled us to turn left into a behemoth of a vault. The characters

N77 R2D 80F were written across some of the steelwork. I was lucky enough to have gotten in Because I heard gunshots after walking through the metal frames and the large bronze doors were shut behind us. More screams could be heard outside and more gunshots. Things got quiet outside after a few minutes. The explosions began around 15 minutes later. The sound was deafening and the ground shook. like the gods themselves were trying to kill us. The children continued to scream through it all and continued long after. The thing that disturbed me the most was the lack of noise outside.

Things remained quiet in the vault for the next few days. People talked about what it was that might have happened on the outside. And the general consensus was that a nuclear explosion had detonated on the surface. It was a miracle that we were all still alive to be honest. There was a small cafeteria for us, but it was obviously overwhelmed by the amount of refugees here. The food rations were fairly small and seemed inhumane, though we all knew there wasn't enough to go around. It was around the third or fourth day that noises began to come from outside the vault. The soldiers were instructed by their superiors not to open the doors for any reason, and I think we were all thankful for it. None of us wanted to see what was on the other side,

especially now when we heard there please. We know you're in there. You have to let us in. help us, we're dying out here. Do something, for the love of God, help. Their cries went on for around three hours before gunshots sounded on the other side of the door. Oh, I don't want to know who those shots came from, but we were all glad for the quiet. After a week more, the voices were back.

This time, they cursed. and threatened us all on the inside. They went on to say that once they were on the inside, they'd eat our flesh and suck the marrow from our bones like a straw. I tried not to let it get to me, but it wasn't working. The voices followed me into my dreams and caused me horrible nightmares. I dreamt I was on the outside in the evening. probably leveled city, being chased by sub-humans trying to eat. I know they're just dreams,

but who knows if that's too far off from reality. Recently, the leaders of the vault had all agreed that our rations would be halved. There was protest and a small faction tried to take the cafeteria, but they were all shot. I have begun hoarse. hoarding the food I've gotten in my bag for work. Like I said, there's not a lot, but I stow away what I can, when I can. They're inside the vault now, and they're not human. I caught a glimpse of them as I ran through the corridors,

and those things are not humans. They have horrible green, glowing eyes, and their hairless skin is yellow. I locked eyes with one of him, and in that moment I felt the hatred he, or it, felt for me. A step, two steps, and then finally a burst of rounds into his head from his left. I didn't stop to wait and greet my saviour. No, I ran. I ran as fast and as hard as I could run.

You'll probably think me a coward for what I'm about to say next, but I don't care. I arrived in the cafeteria and went straight for the kitchen. Breakfast was being served, so one of the storerooms wasn't locked up, and no one was around. I locked the giant door behind me and listened to the carnage outside my door. Some shots continued to ring throughout the next couple of hours, and then, were silenced. I spent my time taking stock of what food I had, and it was enough to survive for, let's just say, a hell of a long time.

The soldier lay inside, near the door, with his rifle to his front, and his sidearm still holstered. I grabbed the sidearm and pocketed it. I've been in this room for longer than I can keep track. the amount of can stacked against the wall. I can guess a month or so. The corpse in the room began to rot a long time ago and the stench is horrendous. It fills my nostrils day and night. The worst of it is, they know I'm here. They know I've locked myself in this room and they keep telling me I'm going to die here. I'm going to die in this room.

This is the place. They whisper to me in my sleep, that they'll peel my eyelids off of my head and rip my fingers off one by one. I spend the days curled up in the corner, watching the man rot, wishing my hell would end. I've thought to myself many times

that I could just shoot myself in the temple and then this nightmare would go away. The food is dwindling and the idea is more and more tempting. Those hollow things call my name. In my loneliness I told them who I was. They tell me to open the door and it'll all be over. Those hollow inhuman things tell me to end it. End the torture on my own terms.

They got one thing right. Tomorrow, when I wake up, I'm ending it on my own terms. She stalked the dark hallways of the school, making sure that she made no unnecessary sounds that would attract anyone. She'd been following her math teacher for a few minutes now. and was positive as she'd seen him wander into the school building. She checked her watch. She had about an hour to the curfew.

The school was deserted, as it had been for the last summer month. She was being extra cautious. She didn't want anyone seeing her follow her teacher into the school. That could only bring trouble. She followed her teacher into the dart. hallways. Her teacher seemed to be wandering aimlessly, oblivious to his follower. She waited for him to move into someplace quieter so she could make her move. Finally, her teacher stopped in front of the bathroom, probably intrigued by the sound of rumbling pipes, and slowly made his way inside.

Perfect. She muttered to herself as she reached around for her pink backpack and withdrew a bloodied, solid lead pipe from within and made her way into the bathroom. She carefully closed the bathroom door behind her and ever so softly turned the lock. The soft clink of the lock made her teacher turn around to face her. She could see the look of confusion in the old man's eyes. She followed his gaze to the lead pipe in her hands and watched as his face contorted into a hideous snarl as he lunged towards her.

A smile forming on her lips. She sidestepped and drove the pipe with all her might into the back of his head with a sickening thump. She watched him crash into the floor. soon enough a pool of dark blood formed around his head she had done this way more often than she cared to admit as her math teacher lay on the white tiled bathroom floor twitching uncontrollably from the skull bashing he'd just received a few seconds earlier she stood over him her feet on either side of his waist she looked him right in the eye and said

This is for the C-minus on my last paper And drove the pipe into his skull again Finishing him As she wiped blood and brains from the lead pipe The walkie-talkie in her backpack crackled Bulldog This is Bass Watch your status over

Base This is Bulldog The school is Bulldog clear. I repeat the school is clear. Returning to base now, over and out. As she made her way out of the bathroom, she glanced towards the corpse of her math teacher and muttered to herself, man, this zombie apocalypse is stressful. It's been two weeks since this whole thing started. It all started with a tanker accident. It was all over the news. Everyone thought it was just another oil spill.

There were plenty of volunteers, plenty of people wanting to help the poor, defenseless animals. Plenty of victims. Within hours of the tanker accident, it started happening. The animals had gone crazy. They were scratching and biting the cleanup volunteers. They said it was an adverse effect of whatever was in that tanker. Rescue workers were still trying to get the crew out of the ship.

They could hear the screaming inside. There were screams to open the doors, but that's when it all went to hell, as soon as they cut the door out. There were six minutes of broadcast before it went, silent. Six minutes of screaming and agony. The ship's crew attacked the rescue workers like ravid baboons. They were breaking bones and tearing flesh. The people on the shore weren't faring any better. Those that had been attacked by animals were attacking everyone else.

It was worse than any war zone report. It was sheer brutality. And yet the broadcast still went on for six minutes. There were six minutes and then blank faces. Nobody could explain what was happening. They tried to continue with the regular news, the economy, the weather, and acute human interest story. but they couldn't make us unsee what we'd see.

I tried to continue with my regular existence, but every time I switched on the news or walked by a newsstand, it was there, this big mystery. They had some explanations, oh, it was an infection, or maybe brain parasites, but it didn't matter. It wasn't the infection we were afraid of. It was them. Four days after the initial report, the state of emergency was raised. And yet,

we've all seen this before. It's in every zombie movie ever. People didn't know who to trust. People were stockpiling food and weapons. Some tried to flee. But it seems every zombie movie was right. They didn't make it. Three days later, they arrived in my town.

I expected moans, shuffling corpses and dismemberment. But that's where the movies lied. They ran through the streets, screaming. I remember running to my front door as far. fast as I could, locking, barricading, and doing anything to make sure it would stay shut. And then I headed for the window. I was on the second story and I could see the carnage. They were unstoppable.

They were aware. A group of them made their way through a building across the street. They jumped straight through, plate glass windows. Even the shards slicing through them made no difference. They just kept coming. My barricade wasn't going to hold. I rushed around my flat, grabbing supplies and jamming them into the most secure room of the apartment. I went back for one last look across the street, and I wish I hadn't.

In a second-story window, My face met one of theirs. They knew where I was. I quickly dashed into the room and locked the door. I didn't have any kind of panic room or a secure basement, so the safest place I could think of was my bathroom. There were no windows and only one door. It had a lock.

I filled my sink and bathtub full of water, so I could stay full of water. so I could stay for a while. I sat there in the dark room with the distant screams in my ears. I began to feel like I may have overreacted. It had been two hours with no sign of them. It actually got quieter, and I thought maybe they'd moved on.

Maybe I could leave the room and get to the kitchen. I could grab some more food to wait it out. Then a crash came through the front door. There was a sound of someone running full force into the door and knocking down the barrier behind it. There were a couple more crashes before I knew they were inside. There were rapid footsteps moving around the flat, a couple of screams and then a bang on the wall beside me.

My eyes were open to their widest, even in the pitch-black darkness of the room. There was another bang, and then another. They knew I was there, and they knew I was scared. This was the zombie nightmare I'd been expecting from the start. I had nowhere to run. There was only so much time before they would break in. I sat with my back to the door, hoping my extra weight would make it harder for them to get in. Then it got worse.

Why don't you open the door? There was a voice on the opposite side of the door. There were no screams or moans, just a quiet, whispery voice. And then, more of them. We've come for you. You'll be happier if you open the door. It's not so bad. The whispery voices became a cacophony of noise trying to persuade me.

To break me, to fool me. I'd heard that the moaning of zombies would drive people insane, but this was worse. A siren call. I sat in the darkness and hoped and prayed that they'd get bored, but they don't get bored, and they don't leave. I managed to use the mirror to peek under the door, only to be greeted by horrible, unblinking eyes, blood-smeared faces, screams, and more horrible whispers. That was two days ago. I don't know what to do any more.

Maybe. It won't be so bad. A patiently awaited by the riverbanks, while Charlie went to relieve himself behind a barren tree. The rain poured hard towards the poisoned earth, ripping away any life that dared settle in the ground. The waters before me were murky, and the river flowed relentlessly.

They had once been so full of life, surrounded by families enjoying their picnics. tanning in the sun. Now nothing more than a watery grave destroyed by the ever-present acid rain. It was odd though, that despite the storm it hadn't grown in size. It had remained the same monotonous body of water,

only disturbed by the occasional piece of driftwood floating downstream. Charlie, hurry up, it's getting dark. I yelled to my son as I started getting impatient. I'm trying, he shouted back. I couldn't blame him. Taking a piss was harder than one would have thought, while soaking wet and freezing cold. He turned silent, and I decided to give him some space while I rested by the riverbank. My body had grown frail in the past year, after the supplies diminished. Both food and water had become a scarce, invaluable resource. I thought it was ironic that we would most likely die from starvation or dehydration, all the while soaking wet from the sulfuric piss falling down.

from above. My train of thought was disrupted by what seemed like an oddly shaped tree stump approaching from up the river. I fixed my attention to it as it drifted closer and then realized it wasn't a piece of wood but a corpse. Oh, it's not again, I mumbled to myself. It had been flayed from top to bottom, not an inch of skin remaining on its bloody surface. Behind it followed another dozen dead.

bodies, all floating peacefully on top of the water in various stages of mutilation. Or were skinned, but some had additional evulsions, missing arms, legs, even heads that had been violently torn from some of their bodies. At that point, their identities were nothing more than a distant memory, an unimportant detail. They all seemed the same underneath their skin, and now they just added to the pile of corpses in the hellscape of a city, that we called home. Those people were the brave ones, the ones that had tried to leave, but they'd known the risk. They knew about the guardians, yet they ventured across the wall, and now they were just

pieces of meat flowing with the river. The way their bodies bobbed up and down in the water reminded me, in the most morbid way of times long since past, of the days before the rain, taking Charlie to the beach with his mother, teaching him how to swim. I almost let myself smile, despite the horrific sight, but I was quickly jolted back to reality as one of the corpses landed on the riverbank, fully clothed and seemingly unharmed.

Charlie, get over here, I called as I ran for the corpse. It was a man in his early twenties, thick, long hair and well-fed. Wherever the river had taken him from, he definitely didn't belong in the city. I checked his pulse, barely finding a weak one, and though unconscious, he was definitely alive. Dad, what are you doing? Charlie asked. We've got a live one. Hand me the blanket. Charlie pulled out a soaking wet piece of cloth, hardly protected from the leather by the bag, but it was all we had. I've got the man in it as well as I could, before lifting him up over my shoulder.

"'Dad, what if he's like the others?' Charlie asked, nervously. "'He can't be. He looks too healthy. Help me carry my things while I carry him. We have to get back to the shelter, fast.' We rushed back towards the ruin. We call home for the past day. It only took an hour to walk through the storm, but in my fragile state, carrying someone as heavy as that man, well, it put me on the brink of collapse. Once we finally reached the house, I dropped the man on the driest part of the floor I could find. While Charlie unpacked our things, I started a futile attempt at making a fire.

Dad, I'm going to look for food, Charlie stated, oddly confident. He'd become a resourceful kid, but I had a little hope that we'd find any treasure. Whoever lived there before had to have emptied the place during the second evacuation. Don't bother. We already looked through this place. As a stubborn kid,

reminded me of his mother, always adamant about finding solutions where there were none. Against my advice, he set off to search the house once more. After a good half an hour, I managed to get a few sparks to ignite a fire. Charlie returned just in time,

holding a few cans of beans in a couple of water bottles. Where'd you find those? I asked, equally impressed and surprised. Found them under some old planks in the closet, he said, smiling. People had gotten clever during the storm, as food supplies grew short, and we lost contact with the outside world. People got serious about hiding their most valuable belongings, in a world where nothing ever grew, where food couldn't be made.

Gold and money had lost their purpose. You did good, Charlie. I'm proud of you. The man grunted, starting to wake up. What happened? He asked Wheatley. I knelt down beside him, trying my best to keep him calm. Don't worry.

You're safe, I said. What's your name? Peter. Great Peter. I'm John. Do you know where you are? No, I was just out walking. He growned.

Oh, my head. It really hurts. I noticed a gash on the back of his head, covered by his hair. It had stopped bleeding, but it was a nasty cut in risk of getting infected. Was I in an accident? Why am I not in a hospital? He asked. Hospital?

I asked back, confused. Before he could continue, he passed back out. I tried to get him to drink some water, most of which he coughed up. keeping him warm and hydrated was all like a do while he recovered asking for a hospital he must have been pretty out of it i mumbled to myself i turned back to charlie he was enjoying his expired can of beans well a first meal in two days hardly a feast but that didn't matter we all need to get some sleep soon charlie we've got a long trek ahead of us tomorrow wait tell me the story first he demanded it it was a story story I'd told a thousand times in the past few years, one of the times before the storm. A story about a world Charlie was far too young to remember, but he'd seen a minuscule part of it. I wanted to keep that glimpse alive, if only as a distant dream. You want to hear about the sun? I asked. He nodded eagerly.

All right, come sit with me. Let's try to get dry before we pass out for the night. We huddled up under the blanket, almost dry from the fire, and for the thousand and first time I told him about the past. You know, the sky is blue. Beyond the darkness and thick clouds we see outside, there's a whole other world without rain, without thunder and lightning, and in the center of all, we have the sun. It's a bright yellow ball hanging up there, watching over us, keeping us. warm. Even now it's giving us life, but it's not as strong as it used to be. It's hidden, like an invaluable treasure. Many years ago, we lived in the sun with your mother. We were so happy. I paused for a moment, talking about my wife was a hard task, considering how we lost her.

Charlie didn't remember, of course, but it stung deep inside my chest, like a cold hand wrapping around my aching heart. I sighed before I continued. Ah, she loved to take us out to the beach, endless oceans and soft sand beneath our feet. It was so warm and so bright that we had to eat ice cream just to cool down. Sometimes we even wanted to get wet. We dove into the water, but they weren't dark and grimy. They were crystal clear, blue like the color of your eyes. But it's all gone now, isn't it? I'm sure it's out there somewhere And I promise you

As soon as we can find Away past the Guardians I'll take you there You'll see the sun again Charlie I talked more about his mother Until he fell asleep As much as it pained me I felt it important

That he knew what a wonderful woman she was As night fell over us The storm worsened Turning from heavy rain to a murderous blizzard As usual I found it hard to sleep always worrying the house might collapse, as so many buildings had done before, but Charlie slept blissfully, too young to comprehend the true dangers of the world.

Dad, Dad, the man's waking up. I awoke to Charlie shaking me. Though I was usually a light sleeper, I somehow barely came to, even as Charlie yelled. Peter was coughing, begging for water. After spending the whole night unconscious, he was finally coming back to it. Water, water, please, he said. I helped him sit up to drink. How are you feeling?

I'm still here. I thought it was all a dream, he said as he looked around the room. Are we in an abandoned house or something? Well, Peter, it's not abandoned anymore. I jokes, stupidly trying to brighten up the mood. Shouldn't I be in a hospital? He asked again. I was confused.

But he'd suffered a fairly. traumatic head injury, so I let his question slide while I started breakfast. I cooked up some beans and offered them to Peter. Without supplies, I couldn't do much for his wound. I only observe and hope a fever didn't fester. Do you know where we are? I asked, trying to get an idea of his state of mind. I don't know. I don't remember anything other than walking around. I was heading for a picnic, I think. Then there was a bright flash and next. thing I know, I wake up here. A picnic? Yeah, it's been the warmest summer in years, they say. I wanted to enjoy the weather, but by the look of that rain outside, I guess that didn't last

very long. Warm summer. PICNics. Oh, it had become clear how confused he really was. We're in Greenville, I said. Greenville? I've never heard that. I've never heard that name. I come from Portland. It wasn't a place I'd heard about nearby. The closest town over would have been Clint, but God knows what still existed beyond the boundaries of our hellhole. And you have sun in Portland, blazing, burning sun, every day for the past month. For a moment I considered the fact that the world had kept going long after our city's demise, that despite our hardship, there existed a better place where life thrived. Yet, I knew leaving would be impossible.

You're telling me the world is still going, that outside of this shit, people are just living normal lives? We never even heard about a storm destroying a city. No one knows about Greenville. This is all a bit bizarre.

I stood up and paced around the room. A thousand thoughts and ideas flowing through my mind. The world hadn't ended. It was only us. Only our city. closed off from the rest of the world and left to suffer. People couldn't leave, but then again, none had entered it either.

Since the fall of our city and collapse of the colony, Peter was the first seemingly healthy human we'd stumbled across. If he could get in then, maybe, just maybe, we could get out. Dad, there's a woman outside. Charlie yelled from one of the windows, breaking me away from my brainstorm. Stay back, Charlie, I demanded as I rushed outside. Peter was getting up and following suit.

The rain poured as always, filling up a smaller sinkhole down the end of the street. Most houses had long since collapsed, and those that still stood were slowly being etched away by the acid. A woman stood in the middle of the street, with her back facing towards us. She wore nothing more than a light dress, hardly providing protection from the horrific weather. She'd been hurt, leaving an exposed wound on her left shoulder, no longer bleeding but oozing with thick, yellow, huss. What the hell is she doing? She's standing there, Peter asked. Don't get close. Let me deal with it. I responded.

I walked up behind the woman. The veins on her arm were protruding out, marking an infection that was growing up. towards her neck. She was on the brink of sepsis and would soon perish. Without hesitating, I pulled her head back by her hair. As I did, I also lifted up my hunting life and slid her throat. I'm sorry, I whispered, as blood poured down her newly created orifice. She didn't even react as she quickly bled out. Seconds later, she died. Holy shit! What the fuck did you just do? Peter yelled from the house. He stood, frozen in fear, staring at my bloody hands. He didn't understand what I just done.

It then dawned on me that Peter truly came from a better place, one without the daily horrors that we faced. I set her free, I responded, already out of breath. Peter turned to run, but I gave chase. Despite my malnourished body and wasted frame, I was far faster in the rain and quickly pinned him down. Let me go. You're crazy. He yelled.

Calm down, Peter. You don't understand. I can explain. Explain what? You just murdered someone. He continued. I let him go, causing him to slip onto the muddy, wet ground. I kept my knife pointed at him, forcing him to stick around a little longer. You really don't know what's going on here. do you? I asked. Please, don't kill me. Just tell me what you want. Of course I won't kill you. You're not an empty, not like them. Not yet. I flipped my knife around, gesturing for Peter to take it.

Now that I'm unarmed, you're going to listen. He took the knife, clutching onto it with shaking hands. It put me in harm's way, but I felt safe nonetheless. Peter wasn't from Moran. Greenfield. He'd been sheltered, safe from the nightmare that had been our lives for the past few years, meaning he still didn't have murder in his heart. Why did you kill her? he asked with a shaky voice, because she was already dead, the parts of her that matters anyway. You notice the wound on her her own, her clear apathy towards it. It's because she's one of them, one of the empty people. What do you mean by empty people? I walked back over to the corpse of the thing I just killed,

turning her over to see her face, full of scratches, even an eye missing, probably from walking into walls and debris lying around. It's the rain, I said calmly, while presenting the wounds of someone who clearly given up on their own well-being. It changes people, hollows them out.

At first, I just stopped caring. but then it takes away their memories and strips them of all emotion. That's the fate of most people living in this city. And whatever they once were, accountants, mechanics, doctors, well, they ain't any more. All they do now is walk around, get hurt and die. Then why kill them? Because they're already gone, only their bodies stay behind to suffer.

The least we can do is set them free. besides they get riled up if disturbed and sometimes they get violent it lowered his guard by then either from believing my story or because he simply didn't have much of a choice Peter was trapped alongside us in the storm unable to survive without my help but unbeknownst to him he could be our ticket out of here how long have you been here was all he asked seven years Peter clasped to the ground in disbelief, fearing he'd suffered the same fate. I walked over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, mustering as much confidence as I could

into the next few words. But now, we're all getting out of here, together. My plan was simple enough in theory, follow the river, and retrace its path back to wars where it grabbed Peter. It might have given us a safe way past the guardians lurking in the dark territory. While we got ready for the day's trek, I felt hopeful. For the first time in about six years, I truly believed we stood a chance. The mere fact that Peter got inside ignited a fresh wave of hope throughout my body.

It meant there had to be a weak spot in the dark territory, one we could escape through. Charlie presented us with a few water bottles he found while searching the neighbouring houses. It wasn't much to keep us going, but I'd found a new source of motivation anyway. So, we're leaving the city, Peter asked. That's right. If a better place exists, I have to get my son there. Mind me asking why you haven't left already. I mean, this place isn't all that great.

Because it's dangerous, Peter. People have tried and died. What makes you so sure we'll survive then? He asked, looking at me with a mix of fear and confusion. Because now we know it's possible. you got in. That means we can get out. During the early days of the storm, we'd all been part of a massive evacuation. As the first buildings fell to sinkholes that were created by the downpour, people started to panic. The evacuation itself was a shit show, thousands of cars immediately congested

on the highway. As a last resort, we attempted to flee on foot with the pitch black clouds looming above us, striking down with lightning ever so often, seeming to appear from the ground itself. My family and I were quite far in the back, and when reaching the border out of the city, we halted in our steps. Before us lay thousands of skinless bodies. Entire family is embraced in death, with horrified expressions on their flayed faces. In the blink of an eye, well over a hundred thousand people have been slaughtered, repurposed for a meat wall spanning around the entire city, keeping us trapped. A few more bodies had landed on the riverbank where we'd found Peter the day before. Unlike him, they were beyond saving, flayed and mutilated like all the others. Peter looked

at them in disbelief and disgust, unable to comprehend the horrors that lay before him. What happened to them? he asked. Those are the people that try to leave, I said. And that's where we're heading, he continued, panicked. I don't think I can do this. Listen to me, Peter. There's no food, no water, nothing left in this city for us. We either take our chances here, or we die from thirst, starvation, or infection in the city.

Remember that you made it in here. I promise you a better chance if we just keep going. We followed the river upstream, half a day's trek just to get to the bridge. The rest would be spent crossing it. The bridge was the name given to a collection of sinkholes spanning all around the city, 96 miles wide and 2 miles across. Place of destruction, almost impossible to pass. A section of the sinkholes have been covered in various debris, cars and corpses, giving it the

unfitting name. it to the brim to the point where we could cross, hence a bridge. Despite its dangerous content, it would be our safest route to the other side. Of course, the empty people lurked around the bridge as well, but they were different. Those that existed there still had the basic instinct of escaping, making them far more terrifying than anything found within the city limits. I let my mind wander as we slowly walk by the river. The monotonous flow of water against the harsh trickle of rain was somehow soothing. It brought back memories of the second evacuation and the first empty people.

I saw an image of myself, holding on to my three-year-old son with one arm and my wife with the other. We were crushed in the middle of a panicking crowd where my wife, Maretta, suddenly let go. tried so desperately to grab hold her again, but she simply stood there, letting the crowd trample her down as we were pulled away. She was left behind, one of the first peoples who forget themselves, to hollow out and become one of the empty people. Most could feel it coming on. They knew they were about to turn, but not her.

For whatever reason, it happened within seconds. Following the second failed evacuation, we searched for weeks, hundreds of colonists looking for their lost loved ones, was no avail. Loretta was more than likely one of the empties that wandered into harm's way, dying from their own neglect. Dad, what are you doing? Charlie asked as I snapped back to reality. I'd stopped moving, lost in my own thoughts,

unable to react to the outside world. Dad! John! Peter chimed in. Finally, I managed to get myself going. I'm sorry. I just needed to catch my breath. I lied.

Let's keep moving. Another hour, we finally reached the bridge. Before us, we saw an endless collection of sinkholes, harshly filled with solid debris, dozens of bodies littering the pits among a few surviving stragglers. This isn't exactly what I had in mind when you said we had to cross a bridge, Peter said.

The river ran straight through the sinkholes, dragging parts of its foundation with it. We had to keep a certain distance away from the river lest we get dragged away with everything else. This is more like a hole, if I'm entirely honest. Peter continued. I kneeled down beside my son. This would be his first.

time crossing the bridge without my help. On each prior cross, he'd been too young, and I'd either carried him on my back, or had him wait back at the colony. Now that the colony was gone, and I was too weak to carry him, he'd have to manage on his own. You ready to do this, Charlie? I asked. He nodded, as brave as he'd ever been. Listen, it's bound to be a bunch of empty people stuck in the debris. It's going to be dangerous. These empties are different from the ones who see it in the city. They'll call out for help. They'll beg and bargain.

But don't let that fool you. There's no fear, sadness, nor anger in their voices. There'll be no urgency, even as they lay there, bleeding out. So whatever happens, do not approach them. I said, looking back and forth between Peter and Charlie. They both nodded, confused but diligent. We tied a rope between the three of us. Walking ten feet apart would ensure that if one of us fell into a pit or sank into the unstable ground,

the other two could pull them back up. Charlie, being the lightest, would walk at the back of our small group while I led the charge. It only took a couple of hundred feet before we saw one of the empty people trapped in a crushed car, emaciated and pale, probably stuck there for the past year, waiting for someone to pass. It pleaded and begged for us to help, asking in the most apathetic voice possible, completely rid of any emotion.

Don't go to the other side without me. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. It said. Another one we passed had just impaled itself on a piece of debris,

bleeding profusely. Within an hour it would be dead. Yet it kept talking as if nothing had happened. Its words making sense, but the emotion behind them nonexistence. Hey, take me with you. Please, please, please, please, it doesn't hurt, I promise. It doesn't hurt. I'll be okay, I'll be okay.

Peter looked with concern at the trap creatures, worried and sorry about his pitiful fate. Let it be, I ordered. We can't help them. He complied, and we kept walking. John, how about you tell me how all of this happened? Peter asked. I shrugged his curiosity off.

It wasn't a memory I wanted to dig into. We're better off focusing on the rough terrain. We ain't got time to talk. I shot back. All right, but how about a short summary then? I sighed, already out of breath from the rough trek across the bridge. ignoring him initially, but he kept crying. He wasn't going to let it go.

They said the storm would pass in the week. I finally uttered about the tenth time he asked. We did as we were told, held up inside our homes, stocked up on food and water as the worst passed, only it never did. After a month of the acidic rain etching away at our once friendly city, building started collapsing. Sinkholes swallowed the roads

and people died. I sat down on a rock trying to catch my breath. Talking while wandering was a painful task. And then the people started acting strange. We'd find men, women and children just wandering through the streets at night

wearing nothing more than their nightgowns to protect them from the pouring rain. They had this look in their eyes as if they weren't aware enough to care about their surroundings sometimes it even get hurt, break a leg or cut an artery. Yet they just kept walking aimlessly around, ignoring our pleas to just come back inside. Peter stepped in front of me.

That's what happened to your colony, he asked. Our colony was formed after the first six months. We gathered as many resources as we could, non-perishable foods and water. Since only a thousand people survived the first two evacuations. We figured we'd be fine for a few years at least But the rain kept pouring We'd lost contact with the outside world And anyone brave enough to venture into the dark territory

Ended up dead We were trapped, scared Running out of supplies faster than anticipated You know what happens when there's no system To keep people in place Peter shook his head I got back up on my feet And we kept moving

Wow Let's say the empty people weren't the only ones losing their sense of self. As we talked, a small group of empty people started getting close. They'd miraculously navigated across the bridge without getting impaled or hurt by the various debris. They kept mumbling nonsense as they walked past. The only word I could make out was salvation.

Let them be, I demanded. Peter kept inquiring about our situation. So, you've been stuck here for the past seven. years, he asked. That's right, seven years since the storm began in 2020. We'd have stopped dead in his tracks, halting our progress. What the hell do you mean? 2020. The year, what else? I asked, confused. You saying the storm started seven years ago in 2020, making the current year 2007? By my estimation, yeah, it's been a bit hard to keep track, but I'm pretty sure we're somewhere between June and August. Why do you ask? John, it's only 2019. I chuckled at the absurd

statement. Listen, Peter, you hit your head pretty hard. It's understandable that you're can... Look at me, John. I was born in 1995. Do I look like I'm in my mid-30s? He asked. He didn't. He looked like someone in their early 20s, just like I thought when I first found it. Yet, it made no sense.

If it truly was that long ago for him, then it meant he'd travelled not only from outside, but from the past. Do you really think you've travelled through time? I asked, sounding more condescending than intended. Well, is that less like? than a storm lasting seven years, people turning empty and mysterious guardians hindering any escape? He asked back.

Despite my disbelief in his statement, he had a point. But that means... I stopped. That means what, John? It means a world is truly God. Then how did I get here? He said, getting more agitated by the minute. I don't know, but the plan stays the same.

We keep moving across the bridge. Towards what? Certain death? To be flayed by the guardians like the pile of corpses back at the river. I don't know, I shouted back, loud enough to attract the attention of the passing empty people. Most stuck in debris by then. Peter got quiet.

Do you have a better plan? There's no food left, no water, nothing. You want to go back? We'll die before we find shelter again. So my plan remains. We're following the river, and while we do, we desperately pray to any God you can think of that we somehow managed to find out how the hell you ended up here.

He just stared at me. Seven years, Peter. my son grew up not knowing the warmth of the sun and I'll die before he gets stuck here for the rest of his life while I frantically yelled in anger one of the empty people got close enough to grab Charlie I'd lost focus and just stared at him in complete apathy for a moment it didn't matter what happened next

help me help me help me let's stick together together together together it begged as it pulled him towards a pit I just stared Dad help me Charlie cried but I stared on unable to make myself move John

what the hell are you doing Peter shouted as he ran over to help Charlie Finally I snapped back to reality Immediately pulling my knife out pushing the creature away from my son While impaling it through his eye As it fell over dead Charlie cried for the first time in years, and Peter turned to me with an angry expression on his face.

John, why did you just stand there? He shouted. I don't know. I rushed over to console Charlie, but he pushed me away. I lost control of myself for a moment. I can't explain it. We didn't have time to discuss it. Darkness loomed over us as nightfall approach. After catching our breaths once more, we rushed the last few hundred feet across. We desperately needed to find shelter before another blizzard set in. No sooner had we set foot on the edge of the bridge before a brilliantly bright light appeared on the horizon. It was unlike anything I'd seen since the beginning of the storm,

appearing as blue sun lighting up everything around us. The light looked cold as ice, yet it warmed us more than anything had for the past, seven years. The river stretched all the way towards the light, and I knew in my heart that Peter had somehow come through it. Is that the sun? Charlie asked, hopefully. No, that's something else entirely.

I responded, baffled by the magnificent sight. How far away is it? Peter asked. I tried to the best of my ability to judge the distance, but the shy of the shy. of the light made it hard to get a clear view. If it lay by just one of the bodies of water making out the river, it would be another day's trek, meaning we'd have to venture through the dark territory.

I'm guessing another day in the harsh war, I finally said. They both seemed hopeful. The train itself wasn't as rough as the rest of the trip, and I was beginning to realize I might not make it that far. In any case, we'll need to find shelter. we're not traversing the dark territory at night. We searched for an hour before finally finding a partially collapsed warehouse. Not a great cover for the oncoming blizzard, but it was the best we could do in the outskirts of town.

I laid a fire for the night and shared the last can of beans. I'm sorry about it earlier. I said to Charlie. It's okay, Charlie said, half asleep. Can you tell me a story? That night, as Charlie fell asleep for the first time, I told him a... I told him a story about the future and not the past. I love you.

Be good, kid. I told him after he drifted off. I remained awake, staring into the embers as the blizzard raged outside. My mind wandered. I tried to keep it focused, but to no avail. I saw images of my wife, memories of digging sandcastles on the beach with Charlie, flashes of wine and dances, the past of a better life. I was tired, worn down to the bone, hollowed out by the rain like so many people before me. In a matter of hours, my mind will be lost, and my son would be left alone, fending for himself with someone who clearly didn't belong.

Without waking the other two, I sat down to write the final part of my journal. I've kept track of most events during the past seven years, but I feel like the last few days are the most important. I'm leaving this to you, Peter. When you find me empty in the morning, and you do to take Charlie with you across the dark territory, bring him to the lights and cross over to a better world. You might even have the chance to stop this all from happening.

And Charlie, I love you. Be good and live a happier life in the sun. I wish I could be there with you until the end. But my time's up. You deserve so much more than this world has given you. And now you might finally have it. Good luck to you both. John.

I woke in the early hours of the following morning. Charlie was frantically calling out for his father. John had left his bed and seemingly vanished, leaving his journal neatly placed by my bedside. Researched the warehouse before I even checked what John had written, but he wasn't inside. I picked up the journal and opened it. I only needed to read the first few lines to realize what had happened. John had turned empty and left instructions to me telling me to save Charlie. Dad? Charlie yelled as he stormed.

out the door, back into the rain. John was standing motionless outside, staring towards the horizon. He didn't even react to Charlie's plea for attention. Dad, what are you doing? He continued, on the verge of tears. He walked towards John, though whatever John had been just a day before, had been washed away by the heavy rainfall. Charlie, stay away from John, I yelled.

as I ran over to grab him. Let me go, he said, as he tried to wriggle himself loose from my grip. Dad, he cried. John hadn't moved, not even acknowledging our presence. No, he kept screaming as I pulled him back inside the warehouse and shut the door. He was incredibly strong for a ten-year-old, but I kept him at bay while he cried and punched me. He's gone, Charlie.

John is gone. Oh, he isn't, he can't be, he promised. He continued sobbing incomprehensibly. I held him tight and let him cry it out, and he eventually stopped resisting my grin. The one person in his life had been taken away for no reason other than bad luck. Simply wasted away in a world where humanity

had become little more than a faint memory. Charlie sat by the fire, reading John's journal. He silently sobbed as he turned the pages. He'd learned to read from his father, and he'd written the journal as a reminder of what they'd gone through in hopes that one day someone would save them. I'm sorry about your dad, Charlie. He didn't respond. A pack what little things we had into John's back. We had to keep walking while we still had the energy.

Without food nor water, this would be our last day whether we found salvation or not. When we finally got back outside, John had wandered off. I had the thought of killing what remained of him in the back of my head, to free him like he'd taught me, but now I wouldn't get the chance. Thanks for saving me, John. You were a good man, I mumbled to myself. The light shone bright on the horizon, reflecting off the millions of raindrops, appearing as endless beams shooting through the air.

Despite the cold, blue colour, it made me feel warm to once again wander through light, to once again see the landscape in front of me. Do you want to talk about it? I asked Charlie. He looked at me for a brief moment and shook his head. The river got wider as we proceeded. In the distance something that looked like a wall appeared, spelling endlessly in each direction around the city. What's that wall? I asked.

It's the flare. That's where the dark territory begins. He responded quietly. Faint clicking sounds could be heard in the distance, distorted echoes coming from whatever lurked in the rain. A few empty people wandered alongside us on our journey. Too many to kill, and they seemed oblivious to our company. They had come from all directions,

but each were pulled towards the light. On the road, several emaciated figures lay motionless. They have become too weak to move, and only their blinking eyes proved that they were still alive, where we got close enough to see the wall. I can make out figures, limbs, visceral flesh that made out the majority of the war. Charlie barely acknowledged the horror before us, unafraid and apathetic to it. If he was just a brave kid, or on the brink of turning empty, I couldn't tell. Some empties were attempting to climb the wall

But its slippery surface caused them to slip back And sink into the meat-filled mass The only opening was by the river Piles of dead people littered the water But the wall wasn't as thick around it We could pass easily enough As we walked around the river side The clicking got louder

It was rhythmic and split up into intervals How I couldn't exactly determine his origin It came from several directions As if something was communicating On the other side of the wall We were faced with a new type of nightmare The entire land had turned into an impossible flesh-scape With what appeared as muscles, tendons and blood vessels

Covering every inch of its surface A single empty person made it above the wall And wandered across the flesh Tendrils entangled in vessels reached out from the ground and grabbed onto the empty, pulling them down to the ground, slowly consuming and merging them with itself. How are we going to get through here? I asked. Charlie didn't respond. He simply climbed down from the wall, wielding his knife.

A few tendrils grew from the ground, wrapped in veins, but Charlie slashed at them with his knife, causing blood to spread out briefly before it fell to the ground. Charlie, what are you doing? They can't get us if we keep moving, he said. You've been here before, I asked. One time. I climbed down onto the flesh-covered surface. It felt warm to the touch, gently bouncing my feet with each step.

The tendril reached from me, and I slashed it off with ease. It was slow for sure, and as long as we kept wandering, we'd seemingly be safe. The light was still a few hours away, but it had grown to a tremendous size, a brilliant blue globe lighting our path to salvation. We kept close to the river. If John had been right, we simply needed to follow it all the way to the light. Every now and then, a body, limb or viscerer was pulled from the flesh gate and floated downstream towards the city. The clicking was getting closer. But I was just starting to realize that it didn't come from any direction in the distance. It was coming from underground. That's the first time I noticed how the ground twitched and contracted

in response to our steps. It hadn't occurred in the early stages of the dark territory, but now it had become impossible to ignore. Charlie, hold up. What? We both stopped walking, but the twitching continued, going from minor ticks to violent spastic contractions. Some muscle fibers in the ground opened up beneath our feet, and we pulled away towards the river. Watch out, I yelled. What's happening? he asked back. Tall figure dug itself up from the ground, towering 15 feet tall, two legs and a torso, but without arms or a head. Its skin seemed charred black.

vesicles covering the majority of its surface. It emitted the clicking sound we'd heard, calling out for the tendrils, which emerged from the ground in response. It held onto the ground with its legs, claws sticking out from all sides of the stumpy appendage. Run! I ordered. I grabbed Charlie and headed straight for the river.

It was the only place where I could think to hide, and since the flesh didn't grow much in the water, I hoped it couldn't sense us there. The creature wandered across the meat-covered land, tearing its charred torso around while searching for whatever it awoken it, looking for us. Beneath the pitch-black skin of the creature, a couple of lids tore apart,

revealing a single, completely white eye with a minuscule pupil darting rapidly around its socket. We lowered ourselves into the water, hoping the creature wouldn't notice us. As long as we didn't touch the flesh, hopefully it couldn't sense us. What the hell is that thing? I whispered. It's a guardian. The commotion had attracted a couple of empty people, both relatively unharmed even on the fleshcape. The ground twitched beneath their feet as they approached the creature.

It observed them for a brief moment before grabbing one of them with a foot and in a single swift movement it tore. the empty person in half. His leg then started expanding, and its flesh wrapped around the half it still held onto. Within a second, the skin had been seared off by acid seeping out through the bursting vesicles of the creature's skin, after which it dumped the flayed person to the ground, letting the flesh fuse together. After less than a minute, both empties had been flayed and consumed, and the creature seemed content.

but the original disturbance caused by us still lingered on its mind. It kept searching while we hid in the river. We must have hung on to the edge of the river for an hour while the creature searched. All the while its eye remained open, unblinking, desperately looking for intruders. After a while, the clicking stopped, and the tendrils sunk back into the ground. After the last tendril disappeared, the guardian's disappeared. The Guardian closed its eye and simply started sinking back into the ground, leaving the surface monotonous and empty once more. Relieved, I let out a sigh.

The river, despite its strong currents, would be our safest option proceeding ahead. All right, we better keep moving, but we can't walk on land anymore. Those things can sense our touch. Charlie nodded, shivering from the... the freezing water, but while the flesh gap stretched endlessly far, impossible to traverse, the light itself was close, within reach. If we kept moving, we'd be there in an hour. I dug out a rope from her backpack and tied it between myself and Charlie. The water wasn't particularly deep near the edge, but sudden surges in the current could easily sweep one of us away,

especially a small, malnourished kid like Charlie. I'm really cold, he said. almost there, Charlie. Can you hang on for just a bit longer? I'll try. We walked in the knee-deep freezing water, trying our best to avoid small flesh appendages that are grown into the side of the river. Any touch would alert the guardians, and if they saw us, we wouldn't stand a chance. Just a bit further, we're almost there, I said. Charlie started slowing down, as skinny as he was, On the brink of starvation, he simply couldn't retain much heat. I'm tired, he said. Don't give up, Charlie, I begged.

I felt him tug on the road behind me. He'd almost come to a complete standstill. Without any further option, I lifted him up and put him on my back. Oh, he was so close. The light shone brighter than ever before, and it warmed me up to the point where I barely felt the freezing temperature of the water anymore. Why didn't it work for Charlie? Charlie, we're almost there.

He didn't respond. He'd fallen unconscious from the cold and exhaustion. Charlie! I up my pace, but the current had gotten stronger and the end of the river finally met us. What lay before us was a massive lake, covered by a thin layer of what seemed like human skin. Strait so thin it had become partially transparent,

The blue light hung a few feet in the air on the other side of the lake, appearing as a massive globe of ice. Charlie, do you see that? We're almost home. He didn't respond. We had to tread back onto land to get around the lake. If not, we'd end up enveloped in the mesh of skin covering the waters. Only a few hundred yards to safety. I stepped onto the riverbank, and the ground immediately twitched in reality. I took another step, causing a tendril to emerge from the ground and reach for me. It was much thicker than the ones we'd faced before. I only had one hand-free while trying to keep Charlie on my back. I swung with all my force and cut through it.

The ground shook as the muscles moved apart, leaving a large gash in the ground from where the guardians could emerge. Three pulled themselves up through the flesh and gave chase after us. They were tall, much larger than before, but to our advantage they were also slower. Even with Charlie on my back, I could outrun them, but not for long. Several tendrils extended from the ground, not trying to grab myself, but going directly for Charlie. A few clung on, and I swung at them, severing a few. On my second swing, one grabbed the shaft of my knife, cutting into itself, but causing me to let go of it. Hang on Charlie, I yelled as I ran, my lungs almost bursting from the effort.

The Guardian seemed bizarrely slow, quickly giving up on the chase as we got closer to the light. I peeked back at them and they seemed almost frozen as if covered in ice emerging from the blue light. Despite the Guardian struggling, the tendrils kept growing in number and size, grasping for us as we spurred it over the fleshcape. Charlie started coming too as we got closer to the glowing glow. He moaned quietly in agony. The light, it hurts, he cried out as we got closer. It was horribly bright, almost blinding,

nothing could compare to his beauty. Its magnificent contrast to its horrible surroundings. Whatever pain it caused Charlie, it was better than staying behind to be flayed by the monsters. One of the tendrils caught my leg, causing me to stumble to the ground and dropping Charlie. Another grabbed him where he lay on the ground. I kicked and tore at his flesh. Finally, it let me go, but it had grabbed Charlie around his neck,

choking away the little life he had left. Even with all my force, I couldn't tear it away, and as a last resort, I simply bit it. The metallic taste filled my mouth as blood spurred it from the twisted appendage. I spit it out and lifted Charlie off the ground My muscles burned and my joints ached But I kept moving Dragging my beaten body across the ground

I got a bit further before collapsing The light hung just a few feet above us I couldn't bring myself back on my feet I reached out my hand trying to grab the light And suddenly I felt the ground give in beneath me We were being lifted up towards it we made it charlie i said on the brink of passing out the blue light started enveloping us all the pain and fear that had filled my body started to vanish i looked around for charlie i'd held onto his hand but i couldn't see him anymore charlie the last thing i heard was a scream of agony coming from charlie he was falling back through the light towards the flesh game i frantically tried to grab him

onto him, but the light was too bright. I couldn't see, I couldn't hear, nor feel at all anymore. It was as if the world had been erased and myself with it. And then, I fell. Even now I can't tell how far I fell. It could have been a few feet, it could have been miles. All I remember is hitting the ground hard, breaking as I landed in a different world. I'd emotionless. and able to breathe. As my vision returned, I saw a brilliant blue sky, cloudless, only decorated with our yellow, majestic sun. I laughed.

I was back, I was safe. After an horrific ordeal, I could finally rest, and with that I let myself pass out. They found me lying in the middle of a football field. two broken legs, a few ribs and multiple vertebrae, bruises, torn ligaments and a punctured lung. I'd been beaten up quite badly by the fall, but despite it all, I'd survived. Charlie, we made it. With my first words as I awoke a couple of days later in the hospital.

Who's Charlie? The doctor asked as he chate my vitals. The kid, I came through the portal with. Where is he? Where's Charlie? The doctor laughed. Your name is Peter Matthews, correct? I nodded my head, pain radiating down my spine. I asked him again about Charlie, mumbled something about the portal, and asked if the rain had come yet. I was high on pain medication, so the doctor initially shrugged off my weird questions.

Charlie never came with me through the portal. I remember his screams of agony. letting go of his hand. It dawned on me that he'd stayed behind, left to suffer in the rain. They'd found me alone. A witness said I simply appeared in the middle of the field. According to my injuries,

they believed I'd fallen quite a distance, but from where they couldn't tell. At the moment of writing this, I'm still cooped up at the hospital. I've tried searching for John and Charlie online, but without their last names, it's a futile task. Not to mention that Greenville is an extremely generic town's name.

I have both of them my life. And in return, I ended up losing them. So, I'm writing this in their honour. They gave me a second chance at life. Return me to my own life. Though, if the storm truly begins in 2020, we may not have that much time left. John, if you read this,

If you believe my story Get out of Greenville Save your family Well there's still time And so once again We reach the end of tonight's podcast My thanks as always to the authors Of those wonderful stories

And to you for taking the time to listen Now I'd ask one small favor of you Wherever you get your podcast from Please write a few nice words And leave a five-star review As it really helps the podcast That's it for this week, but I'll be back again same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more.

Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.