The Night Her World Burned

The rain pelted the streets like bullets, bouncing off broken windows and pooling in the cracks of the pavement. It mingled with the dark smears of blood that painted the sidewalks, washing away the evidence of a life that had existed just hours ago.

I hope this is day is just one of my darkest dreams and wake up...

Ariciah stumbled through the downpour, her clothes soaked and clinging to her skin. Each drop stung her face like ice, but the chill couldn't numb the memory of Ellis's screams, his desperate plea for her to run.

Can someone wake me up?

She had done exactly that, run until her legs felt like they would snap beneath her, run until the city around her became a blur of shadows and ruin. She had run from the terror that lurked behind her, from the monstrous form that had once been her father.

I lost everyone. 

And now, in the cover of darkness, the weight of guilt pressed on her chest like a leaden stone. She had left Ellis behind, her younger brother who had risked everything to bring her to safety. The sound of his final struggle still echoed in her mind, filling every quiet moment with the piercing horror of his voice.

Ariciah's breath came in ragged gasps as she ducked into the hollowed-out frame of an old laundromat, its windows shattered and shelves overturned. She crouched low behind a counter, gripping the edge of it so hard her knuckles turned white. Her thoughts spun in a wild frenzy, trying to make sense of a world that had turned upside down.

Outside, the streets had become a war zone, filled with the growls and moans of the infected. They moved in packs, their footsteps squelching through puddles as they roamed aimlessly, hunting for anything still alive. The rain did little to deter them. If anything, it seemed to amplify the scent of fresh blood, drawing more of them from the shadows.

Ariciah pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob, her body trembling as the realization crashed over her, there was no one left to help her. No one to tell her what to do, no one to shield her from the horrors lurking outside. She was alone, and the only thing she had left was her own fear.

The distant roar of an explosion tore through the night, making the walls of the laundromat shudder. Ariciah peeked through the shattered window, her breath fogging up the broken glass.

A few blocks away, a plume of orange flame erupted into the sky, devouring the remnants of a building. Shadows moved against the fire's glow, human figures sprinting through the rain, clutching weapons, struggling to hold back the onslaught of the undead.

Are those humans? They are alive!

For a moment, Ariciah's heart leaped with hope. Other survivors. Maybe they knew of a safe place, a shelter where they could wait out this nightmare.

She watched as they fought back the creatures with desperate fury, the crack of gunshots punctuating the night air. But that hope died quickly as she saw the infected overrun them, dragging the screaming survivors into the mud.

One by one, the figures disappeared beneath a swarm of teeth and claws. Ariciah bit down hard on her lip, tasting blood, forcing herself to remain silent as the horror unfolded. The survivors' screams mingled with the groans of the undead, a symphony of pain that filled the empty night.

Why is the world ending this early?

She tried to look away, but her eyes were drawn to the scene, and drawn to the brutal finality of it. Her body was frozen, as if she thought that by witnessing their end, she could somehow make up for abandoning Ellis. But she knew it wouldn't. It would never be enough.

The fire spread to neighboring buildings, the flames licking up the sides of old brick walls and splintering through wooden beams.

The entire block seemed to catch like tinder, the blaze reflected in the rain-soaked streets. Ariciah flinched as another explosion split the air, a gas station this time, she realized, as a fireball rolled up into the sky, scattering debris in every direction.

In the sudden brightness of the fire, she saw more of them, zombies emerging from alleys and overturned cars, their silhouettes shuffling forward like a tide of death. And amidst them, the charred remains of what had once been people, their faces twisted in frozen agony. The night had become a vision of hell, and she was trapped at its center.

Ariciah squeezed her eyes shut, her chest heaving with suppressed sobs. She pressed her hands to her ears, trying to drown out the sounds, the crackle of flames, the shrieks, the wet tearing noises.

Why must I be the only one alive?

She thought of Ellis again, of his terrified face as he had pushed her away from their home, insisting that she still had a chance. She had left him behind, just as she had left everything else that mattered.

I could have saved my brother, but he sacrificed himself to keep me alive. He chose my path. 

Minutes, maybe hours, passed as Ariciah huddled behind the counter, her body curled up tight against the cold tile. She lost track of time, lost track of everything except the steady rhythm of her breathing and the rain that continued to pour. Eventually, the sounds outside began to fade, the moans growing more distant as the undead moved on in search of new prey.

Ariciah finally uncurled herself, her limbs stiff and aching. She forced herself to stand, gripping the edge of the counter for support. She knew she couldn't stay here forever, not with the fire creeping closer, turning the night into a furnace. But where could she go? She had no plan, no weapons, no idea how to navigate a world that had become a waking nightmare.

A single thought pushed through the fog of her despair: Keep moving.

It was a simple, desperate instinct, but it was all she had left. If she stopped, if she gave in to the terror and grief clawing at her heart, she would die here, alone and forgotten, just another casualty in a world that had already swallowed her whole.

With shaking hands, Ariciah gathered what little she had, an old raincoat from a nearby hook, a piece of broken pipe she could use as a makeshift weapon. She gritted her teeth against the fear that gnawed at her insides and stepped out of the laundromat, into the rain and smoke-choked air.

The city around her was unrecognizable, its skyline blurred by the fires that raged through the night. Shadows loomed everywhere, darkened alleys, overturned cars, the hollowed-out shells of buildings.

Ariciah moved through it like a ghost, trying to stay low, listening for any hint of movement. The rain drenched her through the flimsy coat, chilling her to the bone, but she kept going.

As she crept down an alley, she caught sight of a figure in the distance, a man staggering through the darkness, clutching his side. For a moment, hope flared again, but she quickly realized the truth, the figure's eyes were glassy and vacant, his movements jerky and unnatural. He was one of them, one of the infected.

I hope he doesn't notice me.

Ariciah froze, pressing herself against the alley wall, holding her breath as he shambled past. She clutched the piece of pipe tighter, her knuckles whitening, but the creature moved on, disappearing into the haze of rain and smoke. She let out a shaky breath, her body trembling from the adrenaline.

She continued down the alley, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of fear, guilt, and the desperate need to survive. Ellis's face hovered in her mind's eye, a constant reminder of what she had lost, and what she could never get back. The world had burned around her, and she had been powerless to stop it.

As the night stretched on, Ariciah clung to one thought above all else, she would not let herself fall, not like the others.

She would find a way to survive, no matter how impossible it seemed. Because if she could make it through this night, if she could keep moving through the ashes and darkness, then maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to live in a world that had already died.