How It All Ended

The world as we knew it came to an end about eight centuries ago.

It was back at the time when humanity was still thriving, and we were on top of the food chain with nothing but our own kind to worry about regarding to our own safety. At least, for the most part this was true!

It was back at a time when we as a species still could look up into the night skies and think that maybe one day we'd reach those celestial bodies. It was back at the time when we were not caged in different kingdoms with walls or left to dead in the rubbles of past civilisations.

So what happened?

What had caused the apocalypse to occur much faster than what anyone had expected it to? What was the catalyst for our world to suddenly change into this landscape that sounded right out of a dystopian novel!?

Simple really. It was because of one person, and one person alone.

At least... That would be the answer you get if you were to ask the average joe of this day and age.

Helena Lestrange was her name, and she shall forever be remembered through the pages of history as being the Bride of the Devil. An ominous title, I do admit, for a woman who back then was thought of to be nothing more but a famous method actress.

But how could such a person lead the world into its doom?

Truth be told, it wasn't exactly her doing per se, but before we get deeper into it, it'd be best for me to tell you a thing or two about the Mother of the Undead herself.

See, she was known to be a method actress, and as such she devoted all fibre of her being in trying to embody her character. This was a talent that she had been known to have since a very young age. It was certainly a frightful prospect to some, especially seeing that the movies she starred were mostly horror, but to many she was an abolute joy to watch. And so, throughout the years, she developed a cult following among her fans which later down the line grew to be something much more sinister.

However, in contrary to what one would be led to believe, she did not spend her days as an adult alone.

Although she had been left behind by her parents who had died back when she was little, she grew up under the care of her aunt and ended up marrying young at the age of twenty-one. The curious thing was... Nobody really had a clue who her husband was.

Her aunt was the only person who was known to have been present in their wedding, but she too died not too long after that.

Over the years, Helena had often referred to her husband during interviews. She seemed so happy and opened about her relationship that many became quick to conclude that the person she was with was definitely not anybody noteworthy, and as such the news quickly died down.

However, the rumours did gain some tractions a couple years later when a rumour of a cult led by Helena's husband spreaded.

It started off as nothing but a word, but word spreaded out like wildfire, and many people began searching for this so-called cult.

No results came in.

The person who had started the whole thing had also gone missing, so although many were still hungry for more information, none of them really dared to dip their hand into the fire.

Still, was this cult true?

Being that I was alive nearly a millennium later and knowing all the things that came after that, I could comfortably say that yes, it was. It was as real as you and me. In fact, the cult was much bigger than anybody could have ever expected, reaching the people at the ends of the world with its indoctrination.

And what exactly was this doctrine that they were preaching? Simple. To serve and give your life to the cult's leader, the husband of Helena Lestrange.

But who exactly was the husband of Helena Lestrange?

Or to be more precise, what was the husband of Helena Lestrange? For it surely was not a human's doing that could have caused what happened next.

It was the dawn of Helena's fiftieth birthday, and the world had already commended her as being one of the finest actress in history by then. Long since retired, she was then enjoying nothing else but the fine compensations of living a quiet life.

The same, however, could not be said for her husband, who had been busy building his own empire of blinded followers for nearly three decades by now.

Millions and millions of followers who were about to be used as nothing else but sacrifices, a gift to the world for having given him such a beautiful .

But at what cost did this gift come with?

Well, it seemed that the lives of half the population of the world seemed just about right.

Heart attacks, accidents, murders set forth by his cult; all of these were happening left and right, and there was nothing that anybody could do about it. The seas were filled with a dark shade of crimson, and the only things that the eye could see were the ocean of rotting bodies and the flies swimming around. It was a mass genocide for the sole purpose of satisfying a person that wasn't even alive!

Helena Lestrange had long been dead! And the person that was walking in her body for the past decades was nothing but a mere puppet of darkness controlled by the Devil himself, her so-called husband.

Nothing could have been done, and nothing could have been said; the world just ended right there and right then!

Countries destroyed, society abolished! There was nothing left for humanity to go through with, and all that was left was for the world to finally end. Even then, fellow humans still found a way to turn on each other! Even then, it showed that the worst demons that we could ever face were nobody else but ourselves!

The deed had been done and the seed had been planted. We, as humans, could no longer see eye-to-eye, and were now left to fend off for ourselves.

Truth be told ever since that day, the world never really did regain back its bearings, and the fact that the Undead began to appear not long after that didn't help whatsoever.

It certainly didn't right now.

***

The simple fact that I was being cornered by hundreds of Undeads was not something that I'd find comfort in, and yet here I was. Fully drenched in the rain, tired, pissed and having none other than a pair of guns and a hockey stick to defend myself.

Hell, even with the Mark, I didn't feel like fighting my way out of this!

"This your idea of a joke!" I said to the Reaper, who was still laughing right next to me, clearly amused by the sight in front of him.

"Oh dear me, how would I ever be able to construct such a bad joke," he chuckled, not believing a single thing that came out of his mouth. "Neverthless, off you go! You can't just stand here and do nothing! You need ti escape now, don't you!? Meanwhile, I shall just sit back and relax, watching you try to escape out of this pickle!"

"Wai-"

"Tut-tut, toodle-oo!"

And with that, he disappeared into thin air, leaving me to be by myself. In the rain. Tired. And even more pissed.

But nevermind that when you have a horde of zombies coming at you, right?

Still, I saw no clear path for me to escape at all so all I could do for now was to use the time that I had to formulate a plan. As far as I cared, I wanted no part in becoming an Undead myself, and so I scanned the area for any direction with the least number of them.

What was unfortunate was that going back to my original path seemed to be something I'd have to bother with later on.

Once I had reached this determination, I began to steady my breath. I felt the Mark's Authority slowly made its way through my whole body, and prepared myself for yet another long run.

Raising my hockey stick as one would a blade, I let out a huge battle cry as soon as I found a direction to go to.

Swinging my 'blade' left and right as I paved my way through the horde of incoming walking dead, I made sure to only hit them just enough to allow me passage. I didn't waste even a single moment in making sure that they had disintegrated, for if I were to do that, I knew that I would be quickly outnumbered.

And so, I ran like the wind, changing into my guns as soon as I was in the clear as I wanted to have the option of keeping things away from being up-close and personal as much as I could.

Thankfully, even with my rather pessimistic view of the situation earlier on, I did end up managing to escape so that certainly had a good effect on my morale.

But alas, all good things always had to come to an end the moment you realised it.

As soon as I was able to break free from the giant school of Undeads, I was quickly met with the difficulty of having to navigate my way through the harsh jungle. Cursing at my own luck once more, I found this to not be a challenge that I wanted to partake in, especially in weathers like these.

Rain was still pouring, and there were even times when I would find myself slipping, almost concurred a heart attack just to get back onto my feet in the last second.

Certainly, this was not a situation I would like to be in.

The Mark was slowly disappearing, so it wasn't long before before the fatigue would catch up to me as well. Who knows... My body might just shut down by then. If it did, I surely did not want to have my back still be sought after by the buggers behind me.

As if answering my prayers, the sight of the end of the jungle presented itself right in front of me, and I couldn't be anymore happier.

Running in the open might not be the best thing to do when you wanted to escape, but the empty, abandoned buildings that were scattered all around that part of the city would prove to be a fine place to hide in and recuperate.

As such, I collected the last burst of strength that I could muster and quickly sprinted as fast as I could for the home stretch, leaving the Undead behind in my wake. I felt so happy that I was able to pass the edge of the jungle, too happy in fact that I felt as if it was too good to be true.

Well, you know, because it sort of was.

As I finally landed my first step on the worn-down road, I heard the sound of deep rumbling going up right above me among the heavens. Curious of what it was, I decided to look up and see what it was.

Fortunately, my body was slow enough to prevent myself from getting visually impaired.

BANG!

Before I could even react, a lightning bolt came with all of its might right behind me, striking down the tall trees at the edge of the woods and scaring me shitless. Smell of burning wood filled my nostrils, and as I turbed back, I saw that a fire had started. Surely, there was no way those Undeads could continue following me, right?

"Huh," I began chuckling, cracking up at the situation I had just been in. "What in the actual hell?"

Sadly, this laughter immediately died down when my body suddenly lost all of its strength. Without any notice, I immediately fell down onto the ground and became unable to move.

Thump, I landed hardly onto the cold cement.

I turned towards my right hand, and just as I had expected, the Mark was gone. Completely and utterly gone.

Damn, just when I needed it the most!

"Come on," I groaned, trying to get back up once more to no avail. All of my energy had been drained, and there was simply nothing else left in the tank. Even in just a mere matter of seconds, I was already at the end of my tethers!

My vision was darkening, and my consciousness was slowly fading away. All I could do as I lay there was to watch the rain continuing on its steady pace of falling.

How pathetic I had to have looked at that exact moment.

Damn it!

The last thing that I could remember before passing out was seeing the shadow of a man looking down at me. A man that had to have been a giant based on his silhouette.

Definitely a problem. But it was a problem for another day.

Thus, without even any single bit of control, my mind faded off into the darkness and into the realm of unconsciousness I went...