The world had turned into an absolute nightmare. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but corpses. Even if someone was alive, they could only wait to die.
The streets were covered in corpses of people whose flesh had turned dark gray. There was a disgusting stench of death everywhere, making it hard to even breathe. Only flies could be seen, feasting on the remains of the fallen.
A young boy, no older than twelve, was running across the blood-stained street, holding a little girl in his arms.
Her skin had started turning a grayish hue, her breathing already becoming weak. Her body was growing colder by the minute.
The boy knew that he had to get her to a clinic.
Even though he knew that no clinic in the world could help a person after they were infected with this virus of death, he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to give up hope.
"Just hold on a little more. We will be right there." His own breathing was haggard, but he was still trying to talk to his sister, trying to keep her awake. He knew that if she closed her eyes, she was never going to open them.
As the boy ran with all his might, his worn-out shoes kept slipping on the road covered with blood.
He tried his best to maintain his balance; unfortunately, it was all for nothing as he tripped over a corpse, his ankle twisting beneath him.
With a cry of shock, he fell, his sister tumbling from his grasp. He landed hard, scraping his hands on the ground.
"Anya!" he screamed, rushing towards her. He held her close, his fingers frantically searching for a pulse, a sign, any sign, that she was still alive.
He pressed his ear against her chest, praying for the faintest sound of a heartbeat. But there was only silence.
He had lost her. She had finally closed her eyes forever, leaving him all alone. This apocalypse had taken everything from him.
The boy held the girl's lifeless body close to his chest, his screams echoing through the desolate streets. The silence that followed was almost deafening, broken only by his own breathing and the insistent buzzing of flies.
The world had turned into an absolute nightmare, and he was trapped in it, alone.
He couldn't remember how long he stayed there, holding Anya, his tears mingling with the blood staining their clothes.
He wanted to scream, to rage against the unfairness of it all, but all he could manage were choked sobs.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm so sorry."
He didn't know how long he had stayed there. He was hungry, but more than that, he was broken. He had prayed for the gods to take him, instead of his family. But here he was, still alive while everyone else died.
He couldn't help but wonder if it was some cruel joke being played on him. His body had grown so weak that he couldn't even sit straight anymore.
He lied on the ground, next to his sister's body, surrounded by hundreds of corpses.
"If the virus won't take me, I will do it myself." He closed his eyes weakly, pulling out a knife from his pocket.
He had thought about doing this multiple times, but for Anya's sake, he remained strong. But now, there was no point. The world was already brought to ruin. He didn't want to stay here to watch more misery.
He aimed the knife at his chest, holding it with both hands to have enough strength. For one last time, he glanced at his sister before looking towards the sky that was covered in clouds, as if it was going to rain.
With the first drop of rain falling on his face, he pushed the knife deep in his chest, believing to be freed from this misery.
"Let's go to heaven together, if there is any." He whispered as his blood merged with the rain water, trucking down his body.
Even though he normally didn't believe in the afterlife, in this moment, he wanted to believe it.
....
He didn't know how long it had been since the world turned dark, but he was once again able to feel his body. The pain of the knife in his chest was gone.
Although he still felt a little weak, it was nothing compared to his last moments.
"Is there really... an afterlife?" He abruptly opened his eyes, appearing extremely shocked.
He looked around, observing his surroundings, trying to understand what the afterlife was like. He had heard about living in the clouds, or angels being everywhere, but this afterlife looked much different.
Instead of being in the clouds, he wasn't even outdoors. He was inside a small room, only two meters wide and three meters long.
It looked too lackluster for heaven and too good for hell. Inside the room, there was only a bed large enough for one person, a wardrobe, and a mirror.
He felt like this wasn't heaven or hell. But it was also too real to be a dream.
Confused, he walked over to the mirror, looking at his reflection. And what he saw left him even more surprised.
He looked to be the same age as he was on earth, but his features were different. There were no scars or wounds on his face anymore. Even his hair was different.
On earth, he had dark hair. Now, he had silver. His clothes were also very different, unlike anything he had seen before.
"Just what is this place?" He wondered just what was happening to him.
"Mother!" Elias was lost in thought when he heard a loud shout coming from outside.
"Mother! You won't believe what happened!" The voice, seemingly belonging to a boy slightly older than him, came again.
This time, Elias couldn't resist his curiosity. He opened the door and walked outside, wondering who was shouting.
"Why are you shouting?" a lady, dressed in a luxurious black gown, stepped down the stairs slowly. "What happened?"
Before the woman could even reach the bottom of the stairs, the young man, seemingly seventeen years old, rushed up and hugged her in excitement.
"Mother, I passed my Practical Exams! I was so lucky to get a weak world like Earth for my practicals! It only took a few months! Hahaha!" he exclaimed, unable to hide his excitement.