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The Story of a Survivor: The Story of a Survivor: Chapter One

by CrazyWolf

CrazyWolf The story about the "apocalypse" is finally starting, and this is how it all began. *WARNING! May not be suitable for younger readers, involves a certain amount of gorey scenery. Proceed at your own caution.*
Chapter One: How it began

It was a completely normal morning. I woke up at 7:00 am, that's when I always wake up. I got out of bed, got dressed for work, and then walked into the kitchen. I had prepared breakfast the evening before, because I just didn't have anything else to do. I opened a window to let some fresh air in, and the sun was shining as beautiful as ever. Nothing bad could happen today, right? Hell, I was so wrong.

After quickly eating my sandwich I heard something hit the gorund. Hard. I turned around and saw my front door. On the ground. And guess who were standing where the door had been?
Honestly, I had never met that person in my life.
"Who are you?" I asked. "And what is so important that you had to knock my fucking door to the ground? ANSWER ME!" The man didn't answer. That's when I saw what he was holding. The man was holding a knife. And he was now walking towards me.
"Okay, take it easy with that, man," I said, now getting kind of worried. Suddenly he started running at me, ready to stab me. Luckily, I had trained in a lot of martial arts so I was pretty good at fighting. The man slashed at me with the knife, but I managed to step to the side and grab his arm. However, I was still pretty tired, and couldn't really keep up. He managed punch me in the face, and that knocked me to the ground. I was bleeding form my nose, and now he stabbed downwards. That's when I heard gunshots coming froom the street. That took my attacker's attention away for a second and gave me an opening for an attack. I punched him in the face, hard. Now he was on the ground and he had dropped his knife. I picked it up before he could take it back, and when he tried to stand up I shoved the knife, deep into his chest. Blood was running from the wound as I took the knife out of his body, but for some reason, it wasn't red like it's supposed to be. It was black.

However, that didn't matter now. The only thing that mattered was that he died. I stabbed him in the chest four more times, before stopping. Blood was running from all of his wounds, and a part of the floor was almost completely covered in black blood. I still didn't understand. What had happened? Who were this man? And why had he tried to kill me? I walked over to the window and looked out. And what I saw terrified me. Dead bodies were everywhere and people were still fighting. Some with knives, som with guns, some with axes, and other weapons. But what concerned me the most was the blood that was all over the place. Just like the blood of the man I had just killed, every single drop of blood coming from these people were black.
"What the fuck is happening, and why is their blood black? Are they sick?" I remember asking myself. But little did I know that this was just the beginning of the event that would come to be called "the Apocalypse of the Insane."