The sun never showed itself that day. From dawn, a gloomy sky covered the earth like a blanket that foreshadowed the storm that was to come, the wind blew strongly, sweeping away the dry leaves that crashed against each other as if they wanted to flee.

The world was no longer the same. It hadn't been since that global disaster. In 2020, an unknown virus wiped out everything we knew. Humanity, which had once shown incredible resilience, was now reduced to a handful of survivors scattered across what was left of the planet. Civilization had collapsed, and with it, structures, customs and cities. Everything crumbled in a matter of months, as if time itself had taken a dark and irreversible turn.

Humans, ever adaptable, now made do with small settlements (villages). Waiting to be consumed by the shadow of what they once were. They gathered in cliques, seeking the basics: food, water and a little pleasure in this hell.

Samantha, who belonged to one of the villages, walked alone among the ruins of what was once a park. In her hands, a rusty machete she had found in a hardware store, now her only protection against the ghouls that roamed the desolate landscape. He had learned to move cautiously, to keep his steps quiet and to rely more on his instinct. She was especially careful and preferred to explore alone, she did not know when the betrayal of someone she once considered a friend would come, nor when that person would become infected and try to kill her.

The acid rains that fell frequently had become a daily occurrence. Its drops burned the skin, leaving marks that didn't quite heal, but that didn't matter. Reaching tomorrow with his brother was the only goal in his life.

Throughout this process humanity had learned, and had adapted to the poison coming from the sky, covering itself with waterproof cloths and masks that barely filtered the fumes as it wandered through the terrible park of the red zone.

Suddenly, a shadow moved to her left through the bushes. Samantha stopped dead in her tracks, her pulse racing. Her breathing stopped for a moment, and she clenched her fist tighter over the machete.

A human figure appeared, or at least, what was left of it. Samantha could make out a hunched over being, with half of his face shredded, flesh exposed and dried blood staining his tattered clothes.

The most disturbing thing lay in its gaze; those dull eyes reflected nothing, not even a hint of desire, it looked just like a dead fish floating on the edge of its pond, perhaps a more accurate description could be found in those apocalyptic movies.

Samantha held her breath as she realized that the necrophage's hands were holding what was left of a body, devouring the organs in a frenzy. The scene was grotesque, which instantly made her nauseous, but also proved to be a warning of what would happen to her if she stopped moving one day.

A shiver ran down his spine. He knew he should not approach, the risk was too great; the E virus had infected more than half of the population, and it was transmitted by contact. The figure, like an animal immersed in its macabre feeding, did not distinguish between women or children, it simply remained oblivious to the world, guided by its instincts to kill and eat. Samantha backed away slowly, aware that her own survival depended on keeping her distance from this aberration.

She gritted her teeth in rage. She had had too many encounters with them to waste time. He turned away, hurrying to take another path, getting as far away as quickly as possible. He had to leave before nightfall, he couldn't wait for the beasts to gather.

He advanced along the desolate road, with the rain falling on his clothes, hiding the sound of his feet. In the distance, on the horizon, the rumble of thunder made her quicken her pace.

In recent weeks, a rumor had been circulating in the village about a possible shelter, a wall that towered imposingly over the sky and kept the ghouls away. Some spoke of a fortress to the north, hundreds of miles from this place. But no one had returned from there to confirm its existence.

As she walked, the rain intensified, and with it the cold. Samantha once again felt the weight of responsibility, long before all this began she had never appreciated the value of her family, now that she was alone, with her little brother, a deep longing gripped her heart at the thought of what the beasts had taken; her brother's deteriorating health, her mother's warm voice calling her to breakfast, her father's screams as he watched the baseball game, now all that, were but distant shadows. The cruel reality of this world had become kill or be killed.

The sound of the beasts could be heard beyond the dark path, a dull and unpleasant growl mixed with the torrential acid rain threatening to touch her skin. Each crunch of dry branches under the feet of the necrophages made Samantha quicken her pace, aware that her time was running out. She had to hurry, she had to not let the night come; the darkness was unforgiving, and those insatiable beings were lying in wait for any distraction. Fortunately, the village was already in sight, its diffuse silhouettes standing out against the sickly sky. But it was not a safe haven; there was always someone ready to take whatever you had. The doors, already rickety and half-fallen, offered little protection, and the wary stares of the other survivors were as sharp as any weapon. Still, it was better than risking further wandering in that damned place. Samantha's breath grew heavier as she approached, but she kept her cool, reminding herself to keep going for her brother's sake.

***

The entrance to the village was always a gloomy place, but that day was different. Two men leered at me, their eyes full of desire. It made me relive memories I would rather have forgotten, but I can't afford to be afraid. Not for myself, but for my little brother, whose health was deteriorating by the day. I closed my eyes and swallowed the discomfort as I walked through the door, feeling each step dragging me deeper into the depths of this place.

I made my way toward the ruined hut, the one that couldn't take much more. Every night, the wood creaked in the icy wind, and sometimes I wondered if it would be the last. The door, already worn and almost falling down, opened with a groan and as soon as I entered I saw it. There was my brother, lying on the bed, covered by a threadbare blanket. His eyes were closed, his face pale and, although his breathing was light, the persistent coughing kept him trapped.

I approached him quietly, afraid of waking him up, and took his temperature. It hadn't improved, but at least it hadn't gotten worse. That's something, I told myself, even though I knew I didn't have much time. I sighed with relief and headed for the kitchen, which was more like a corner with some old, broken pots and pans. The dishes were discarded and the food, if it could be called food, was a collection of leftovers that wouldn't last more than a few days. The water... there were barely two liters left, which meant I would have to go back to the well. No other choice, I thought, looking at the nearly empty bottle.

How many more days could my brother endure? The question consumed me, but I tried not to let the thought corrupt me. I couldn't allow myself to break.

"Cof-cof!" 

A dry cough interrupted my thoughts. I looked quickly toward the bed. It was him, my brother. The cough had awakened him. His already weak body shivered between the sheets, but his eyes were still closed, as if he was struggling to keep the strength in that scrawny little body. "It can't be... " the lump in my throat grew stronger, and despair choked me. I felt empty. My eyes reddened, but I managed to control myself. I could not allow myself to cry. Not now... not for me, but for him.

I needed to find a solution fast, maybe go to the hospital... I thought, but I quickly discarded it, the nearest one was more than thirty kilometers away, and there was no guarantee that I would find the supplies I needed.

I left the hut with my head in the clouds, I couldn't think of anything and there was a nagging feeling in every corner of my body.

I walked through the dusty streets of the village, which had once been a vibrant place, full of laughter and activity. Now, everything was dead. Every corner seemed a shadow of the past, gray and decaying, like a deplorable reflection of this world. Necrophages stalked from the outside, and sometimes broke out in packs, forcing everyone to lock themselves in before nightfall. Before nightfall, the lights were extinguished and silence enveloped the place like a thick fog.

Not knowing what to do, I made my way to the chief's residence, the man who had taken us in during the first few days. Although I knew I was healing in despair, I was determined to ask for help. If only I could save my brother, I would be willing to give him everything I had, even if it meant selling my body.

As I approached , I heard the conversation filtering through the cracks in the door, and something inside me froze instantly.

"No more rations?" Someone's voice, sounded empty, lost, as if they no longer had the strength to fight. Hunger had consumed everyone in the same way as the foul air we were breathing.

The food shortage was already evident, and with the constant attack of the necrophages, things were only getting worse. These days, rumors of a wall in the northern fortress spread like wildfire, perhaps trying to find some hope in the midst of this chaos.

At that moment, my heart skipped a beat when I heard the chief's voice. Something in his tone had changed. He sounded different, almost as if he had lost his sanity completely.

"Today...Eden has been doomed," he said in a deep voice, his figure projecting through the shadows. "The wrath of God has fallen upon us" His voice was rising, booming through the hall with fanaticism.

"The plague ravaged the world and it's our fault! We brought it on ourselves!" The words came out of his mouth mixed with fury, but a tinge of triztesa was visible in them, as if in lingering regret.

He fell silent for a moment and looked at everyone present but no one dared to speak, they just looked on from the sidelines, trapped in their own misery.

 "This village needs faith... FAITH!" he exclaimed, elated, almost losing control. As I peeked in on all this madness, I don't know how anyone could combine so much overnight.

"Let's worship the creator with a sacrifice! It's the only thing that will save us!" His voice rose in manic delirium, and between the hinges of the door I could see his gaze darken to a reddish hue, as if he had crossed the line between despair and pure darkness.

What the hell had happened to him? This was not the kind man I had known. He seemed completely drunk, drowned by a raw fanaticism that seemed to consume him completely.

"Hehehe!" A low, almost aphonic laugh escaped his lips, the sound growing higher pitched, unpleasant. "Since everyone agrees... I propose..." The smile widened on his face, a crooked grin, as if the idea excited him in some sinister way. "Throw that kid out, the useless one, the one who's just lying there in his shack, wasting what we have left!" 

"Tac!"

"Who's there?" The voice cut off immediately , his tone abrupt and alarmed as if someone had disturbed the little control he still maintained.