“That night I dreamt about life before the outbreak. Working in my shop. Teaching my son to shoot his BB gun. My daughters just being “Daddy’s little girls”. All with my wife at my side. Some where in the mix the Grim Reaper rode in on a phantom horse with flame and smoke bellowing from it‘s nostrils. Thunder clapped with every hoof step. The ground shook and invoked the terror the Reaper embodies. The horse was black but no ordinary black. This was so deep it could only be the color of the inside of the grave yet there was a purity to it. Something that was just “right” about it. Something oddly familiar and welcoming. The Reaper dismounted and handed me the reins. He motioned me to the saddle. I slid my foot into the stirrup and jerked myself up into the saddle. As I did the horse turned an ashen corpse gray.
The Grim Reaper spoke, “I looked, and BEHOLD a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was DEATH, and Hell followed with him…” As he finished he blew away like smoke.
I looked down and my family cowered away and hid from me. I tried calling to them but they stayed curled up in the dark. I tried to get off the horse but it was like my legs became part of the beast. I rode for the darkness to find them and called each by name but no one came to me.
Something on my back became very hot and started to burn me. I felt back to find the handle of my zed hunting blade. I drew it from the scabbard. The blade was double the length and lit on fire. The flaming sword brought a blood red light to the darkness but this only frightened my family more. The sound of their shrieks sent the horse rearing up on it’s back legs and it’s front hooves struck forward at the darkness itself. As he reared up I lost my balance for a moment and my right arm fell. The flame from the sword leaped out with a wicked arch and consumed my family leaving nothing but dust.
I screamed, “NOOOOO.”
“Boss…Gundoc, wake up.”