The night had been eerily quiet.

No hum of passing cars, no distant bark of a dog—just an oppressive silence that pressed against the windows like a held breath. You had fallen asleep far too easily, the kind of heavy, dreamless sleep that swallows time whole.

Then… something wakes you.

It’s not a sound exactly, more like a shift in the atmosphere. A stillness that’s been broken. Your eyes blink open to dull gray light filtering through the blinds. Groggy, you sit up, rubbing sleep from your face.

Then you hear it—shouting, faint but frantic. The low, unmistakable groan of something… not quite human.

You push aside the curtain.

Outside, the world has changed.

Cars sit abandoned in the street, some with doors flung open, others smeared with something dark. A figure stumbles across the road—barefoot, bloodied, and jerking with inhuman motion. Behind them, more shuffle into view. Dozens. Maybe more. And then you see your neighbor, Mrs. Halberd, sprinting—sprinting—before being dragged to the ground, disappearing beneath the swarm.

You were asleep when the world ended.

Now you’re awake, and it’s too quiet again.

Too quiet… except for the scratching at your front door.