The sun was warm on his skin. The yacht swayed gently in the calm waters. There were drops of condensation on the glass of cold beer. Although a relaxing day such as this wasn't an everyday thing in the doomsday, it was not impossible. Sometimes Maxin thought that rare moments such as this were the reason he kept moving forward in this hellish post-apocalyptic era.
"Wake up," somebody called him, the voice sharp and unpleasant to the ears.
'No.'
"Wake up now!" The voice grew impatient.
'I refuse.'
This time, the voice didn't come for a long time. Just as Maxin thought the voice had gone away, he felt a grip around his neck, and his airways were cut off. He tried to breathe, but he couldn't draw any air into his lungs. He woke up with cold sweat crawling down his back. The moment he jerked up and peeled his eyes open, the first thing that greeted him was a meat creature, both huge and red in color.
