The Day After's

Prologues

Blood splattered everywhere, along alleyways and polluting sewers. Bodies are not careless. Wounds fill them here and there, among the shakiness of the clothes worn.

Meanwhile, on a weathered old chair, sat an old man, looking at the corpses heartlessly. On his waist, a machete holster was draped. And in his hand, a machete was being cleaned from the red spots attached.

"They want to make a mess but no ability." Said the old man in a disdainful tone.

Then the old man looked back, and saw the little boy who had just come out from hiding in the pile of goods.

"It's okay. They're dead now." The old man said softly, trying to calm the little boy who clearly looked frightened.

The little boy looked at the old man with a questioning look.

The old man smiled, knowing the meaning of the gaze, and said "Yes, grandfather didn't lie."

The little boy then took one step forward, two steps, three steps, until finally he was already standing in front of the old man. Fear was still faintly visible on his face.

The old man stood up, shifted his chair, and took out a white plastic package from a collection of paper that had piled up in front of the wall of the alley.

"They're coming, right?" Asked the old man while showing him his hand plastic package.

The little boy nodded.

"Here," the old man thrust out his plastic package. "Hide, don't be seen. There are still a lot of crazy people out there."

The little boy received the plastic package while nodding slowly.

"Yo wes, it's there." The old man waved his hand, driving away the little boy.

Within seconds the little boy had already run away leaving the alley while tightly grasping the plastic wrap in his hand, as if it was part of his life. 

He kept running and running, on the edge of the miserable streets of the city. Cars are everywhere.  Some were upside down, badly damaged, destroyed, and also burned. Shops along the road were closed. Some were damaged, ranging from broken storefronts to dilapidated blinds. 

Looting.

Street lights are dead, not even a few are uprooted and block the road. It was getting dark but there was no light. And when night comes, that's where the little boy knows that danger no longer lurks, but pounces.

So he sped up his pace, pushed his leg to keep swinging and took it home. No matter how the sweat had soaked his body, or how exhausted he was, only one thing had his mind on, going home or dying. And he chose to go home.

Fortunately the danger had not pounced, not even his fangs were visible. And the little boy was almost at his destination. His house is located in the middle of the city. He is not from a family of conglomerates or high-ranking state officials. But his father had a position, so that he and his family could live more than deserved and get adequate facilities.

In the past, his mother would forbid him to travel like this. Never mind traveling, playing with children from ordinary families should not be. But they are the same. Not from any family and without any background. Just because his father has a position does not mean their degrees are higher. But his mother is a human type who attaches importance to status. And if his mother applies that trait to him, then his son is implanted with the same thought.

But ironically, when the situation makes anyone have to throw away his principles in order to survive, his mother is no exception. Now not only have to go out, but the little boy has to find food out there. He must challenge danger, risk his own life for the sake of his family and at the behest of his cruel mother. Man who still maintains his pride behind fear, and has the heart to let his son more quickly enter the ferocious world.

Finally the little boy arrived in front of his house. The fence is not too high, but the thorns on it will make it difficult for anyone who tries to climb. The little boy was about to open the fence, when he realized that the padlock that should be installed was no longer there. The fence just swung as he pulled it.

Slowly he began to feel a bad feeling. The little boy stepped in and walked towards the slightly open front door. There was no sound from inside. The night wind blew into the boy's jacket and gave him goosebumps, increasing his tension many times over. His hand moved grasping the handle of the door, and slowly pulled it.

Instantly a fishy smell tickled his nose from the crack of the door. The little boy continued to slowly open. And when the door was fully opened, a nauseous feeling instantly stirred up his entrails. The nausea mixed with countless sadness. Tears spread in her eyes and flowed slowly on her cheeks. He quickly closed his mouth. Between holding back his nausea or not being able to bear the fishy smell that emanates.

Behind the door, precisely in the living room, there were three dead bodies. What the boy recognized as the bodies of his mother, his father, and his older sister. All three were seated on the living room sofa and all were in terrible condition. His father's body was covered in incision wounds that until now were still seeped with blood even though it had dried up a little. His mother was also almost the same as his father. But her brother was the saddest. His dearly beloved brother, now sat lifeless, without a thread attached to his body, and the lower part was covered with blood.

The little boy fell to his knees. The package in his hand just fell down, spilling its contents which were mostly snacks and instant. Within seconds he began sobbing, shedding as many tears as he could, weeping over his dead family. His hands clenched tightly. Slowly the fishy smell was no longer felt. The nausea in his stomach was gone. It was all dissolved, united with his sadness, his realization that he was now alone in this world, in this terrible situation.

No one else can protect her, who has to tell her what to do. So why? Why is he still here? Why should he survive, when the real hell sounds more pleasant than this world.

The little boy picked up one of the scattered pieces of glass and placed its sharp part on his pulse. He may be a child, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to kill himself. He had seen it on TV; and one of the reasons why young children should keep watching.

Yeah, better to die. Man is in fact more cruel than the devil, therefore he does not want to be human anymore.

"Dad.., Brother, Mother..."

The shards moved, his hands slashed, and blood gushed profusely. Then, it's all dark.