But This Is Not How It Ends
Our days were a joy and night now closes in on us. There is no birdsong. No sound of traffic. All the warm cars have long gone or crashed cold. In their stead, something else has come, bringing screams and panic with it like a piercing wind. The people it kills get up and kill. Yes, now the night comes but no one will be sleeping tonight...at least I have a chainsaw.
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