In a quiet, unassuming town known as Lekey with a population of less than two thousand, life had once moved at a slow, comfortable pace. Neighbors knew each other's names, the streets were peaceful, and the loudest sounds usually came from the ringing of the church bell. But in just thirty minutes, the apocalypse had torn this little corner of the world to pieces.
The town now lay in near silence, broken only by the distant roars of monstrous creatures and the occasional creak of collapsing buildings.
Nearly everyone had been killed—caught unprepared, unaware, and helpless against the horrors that descended from the rifts.The few who remained alive cowered in the shadows, hiding in the crumbling remnants of houses, closets, or basements, praying for a miracle to save them from the nightmare.
But on the cracked, desolate street at the center of town, there was one figure who did not hide. He stood tall and calm, his chest rising and falling steadily, seemingly unbothered by the cold wind that whipped through the ruins.
His silver hair shone in the dim light, his black eyes unwavering as they stared at the grotesque beast lying dead before him, its body still twitching with the last remnants of life.
"That's six down," he said quietly, his voice carrying a grim satisfaction. He glanced at the knife in his hand, its blade slick with dark, viscous blood. The creatures he had slain so far had not been easy kills; they were ferocious and relentless. But each one had fallen, and he was still standing.
The street was littered with shattered glass, chunks of concrete, and the remains of those who hadn't been as lucky. The wind howled down the empty road, carrying the distant cries for help from those who were still clinging to life.
The young man's gaze flickered briefly toward one of the distant houses where he could hear faint whimpers and the rustling of movement. Survivors.
"Stay hidden," he murmured to himself as if addressing them. "It's not over yet."
He turned his attention back to the street as another beast lumbered into view—a creature with multiple limbs and a torso covered in bony protrusions. It sniffed the air, its eyes locking onto him.
The young man's expression hardened, his grip tightening on the knife. He was alone here, but he didn't need anyone else.
He took a step forward, and the creature let out a guttural growl. The battle for the small town wasn't finished.
~~~~~
In the sprawling city of Beju, chaos reigned supreme. The streets, once bustling with life, were now overrun with panicked civilians. Cars sped down the highways in reckless abandon, horns blaring as drivers swerved around each other, desperate to escape the carnage.
Some had already crashed, their vehicles abandoned, left burning by the roadside. The traffic lights blinked uselessly, offering instructions no one would follow. Smoke billowed from the wreckage of buildings, many of which lay in ruins, their glass windows shattered and walls crumbling.
High above the chaos, on the sixteenth floor of a towering office building, a desperate race was taking place. The once-pristine halls, lined with artwork and marble floors, had become a battlefield.
"Elena, don't look back! Don't stop running!" The words were a whispered mantra, repeated over and over as Elena sprinted down the hallway, her breath coming in frantic gasps.
Her long hair streamed behind her, and her feet pounded against the tile as she fled from the monsters that pursued her. Tears streaked her cheeks, but she refused to let herself cry out, knowing it would only waste precious air and betray her fear.
The creatures chasing her were like twisted, living shadows, their limbs elongated and grotesque. They crawled along the walls and ceiling with disturbing speed, their screeches echoing down the hallway. She could feel the cold chill of death nipping at her heels, and it pushed her to run even faster, ignoring the burning pain in her lungs and the fatigue in her legs.
As she reached a set of emergency stairs, she glanced briefly over her shoulder. The sight nearly froze her in place—there were more of them than she had realized, their glowing eyes fixed on her like predators stalking their prey. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she yanked the door open and hurtled down the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time.
She didn't know where she was running to, only that she had to keep moving. She had to survive.
"Just a little further," she whispered to herself, though the promise was hollow. There was no safe place left in the city. She was alone and hunted, and every turn seemed to bring her closer to death. But still, she ran, refusing to give up.
~~~~~
In another small town with a population even lower than the first, the devastation was complete. Within the first thirty minutes of the apocalypse, this place had been reduced to rubble.
The buildings had crumbled like sandcastles washed away by a violent tide, and what remained was a landscape of ruins and corpses.
The streets were littered with debris—broken glass, overturned vehicles, and the remains of those who hadn't escaped in time. In some places, the ground had split open, creating jagged fissures that seemed to reach down into the earth itself.
The rifts in the sky above continued to spew forth new horrors, and each one that descended only added to the destruction.
There was no one left to count the dead or mourn for the fallen. The few survivors had either fled far from the town or were hiding so deeply that they might never emerge again. The creatures roamed freely here, tearing apart whatever had been left standing, as if driven by an insatiable hunger for destruction.
A lone figure stumbled through the wreckage, her clothes torn and her body covered in cuts and bruises. She moved with a limp, favoring her left leg, and her eyes were wide with the dull look of shock.
She had survived the initial descent by sheer luck, ducking into a nearby cellar just as the first creatures arrived. But as she emerged into the ruins of her town, the realization that there was no one left—no friends, no family—hit her like a sledgehammer to the chest.
In her trembling hand, she held a makeshift weapon—a metal pipe she had found among the debris. It was bent and covered in dust, but it was all she had. She clutched it tightly as she shuffled forward, unsure of where to go. There was no direction that seemed safe; all around her, the sounds of monstrous creatures echoed through the night.
The woman's lips parted as she took in the desolation around her, and a sob escaped her throat. She wasn't even sure why she was still walking. There was nowhere to go and no one to find, yet her legs kept moving, carrying her forward through the ruins of her life.
Across the world, the story was the same. Small towns, bustling cities, and remote villages all faced the same fate. There was disaster everywhere. The apocalypse showed no mercy, descending upon every corner of the globe with equal ferocity.
Those who survived these first thirty minutes were the lucky ones, but luck alone wouldn't be enough to endure the coming days.