Paulo had just witnessed something he never imagined seeing outside of his worst nightmares. Two of his neighbors had been brutally torn apart, their lives ripped away by a creature that defied any rational explanation. Not even in the most extreme nature documentaries he sometimes watched, or the horror films he casually enjoyed, was there anything that could compare to what his eyes had just witnessed. But one thing he knew with absolute clarity: hiding wasn’t an option.

The survival instinct pulsed within him, screaming that if he stayed still, he would be the next to fall. He needed to arm himself. Defending himself was the only option, even if deep down, the idea of facing those things felt like pure desperation. "I might die," he thought, with a cold determination, "but I’m gonna make a mess before I go." The phrase echoed in his mind like a grim promise.

Moving on tiptoes, trying not to make any noise that could attract attention, Paulo headed to the kitchen. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his focus. He opened the drawer and found the biggest knife he had—a heavy, sharp blade, impulsively bought some time ago. A butcher’s cleaver, which now, ironically, would be his best chance against the unimaginable.

"At least it should be sharp enough to chop off a few fingers before I go." He almost laughed out loud, imagining if all he managed to do was slice off the creature’s left pinky claw. But it wasn’t the time for that. His dark humor, as twisted as it was, had its limits.

The knife, cold and threatening in his hand, didn’t offer comfort, but it was a reminder that he was still alive. For now.

As he stood there, looking at the furniture making up his makeshift barricade, Paulo’s mind wandered. He thought about all the choices that had led him to this moment, the wrong decisions that had turned him into prey, trapped in a building surrounded by monsters.

"On second thought, if I’d known this shitshow was going down, I would’ve gone to the barracks, the police station, or any other place where people were armed to the teeth, ready to gun these creatures down. Not stuck like some lab rat in a tiny apartment with no way out."

The mental and physical exhaustion started weighing on him. The fatigue overwhelmed him, and without realizing it, Paulo fell asleep on the floor, gripping the knife tightly in his hand, his body still on high alert even in sleep. The sounds around him blended together: the heavy footsteps of the creatures, the distant echoes of cries of pain, and the muffled sobs of the few remaining victims. All of it faded away as he sank deeper into sleep. In the end, the only sound in the apartment was Paulo’s snoring.

A few hours passed, and Paulo woke up startled, his body instantly tense. It was still dark, but the darkness felt less oppressive than before. "Still night... or something like it," he muttered. His thoughts were confused, mixing reality with the nightmares he had during his sleep. However, he knew one thing: staying here wasn’t an option. The terror was only dormant, and sooner or later, the creatures would return.

"I need to get out of here," he said to himself. "I can’t wait another day, or another night, hoping those things don’t find me." He glanced out the window, keeping as discreet as possible. Outside, the world was still wrapped in an almost eternal night. The sky was strange, dark as if it were night, with only a few stars visible.

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He barely finished talking to himself when he heard the distant chiming of church bells marking 9 o’clock. The bells from the church near his building didn’t ring this time, but he recognized the sound. The church it came from was in the same direction as the police station—just a bit farther.

The reality of what was happening hit him like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t just the invasion of monsters. It was the fact that the world had changed irreversibly. The night stretched on, and even without tsunamis or other natural disasters, he knew something much bigger was at play. Whatever was happening, Earth was no longer the same. "Those meteoroids... they must have caused some sort of global disaster, maybe even volcanic eruptions. The sun’s blocked. We’re trapped in an endless night."

"At least no one hit nearby, or big enough, to cause a tsunami. If that had happened, the whole city would’ve been screwed, monsters or no monsters. With cell towers down and no one to warn us of danger, there wouldn’t even be time to try climbing one of the hills."

"But no use sitting here imagining what could or couldn’t have happened. The fact is, I need to get the hell out of here. And the good part? I can tell the Council and that principal to go fuck themselves, along with their bullshit ideology."

Without further hesitation, Paulo made his decision. He had to leave. He looked out the window again, searching for any sign of the creatures, but all he saw was the eerie silence of the deserted streets. Seeing no shadows moving, he began to dismantle the barricade at his door as quietly as possible. The smell of blood was strong in the corridor. He knew what awaited him on the other side, but he had no other choice.

The hallway was covered in blood, guts, and pieces of bodies. Paulo felt his stomach turn, but he kept his focus. "I need supplies," he thought. "If I’m going to survive, I can’t do it on an empty stomach." He knew his own apartment was practically empty, so he eyed the open door of his neighbor. She wouldn’t need the food anymore.

He entered her apartment cautiously. The place was a mirror image of his own, with a more refined decor and better furniture. "Not here to admire the decor," he muttered as he headed for the kitchen. He opened the fridge, hoping to find something useful. To his surprise, there were a few cans of his favorite beer. "Weird luck... Shame I can’t thank her."

Paulo quickly stuffed the cans into his backpack. He needed more than that, of course. He rummaged through the cabinets, searching for anything practical. Canned food was the best he could hope for, and luckily, the neighbor had a decent stock. Corn, peas, beans, tuna, sardines. "Who knew she liked tuna… The woman had money." He thought about the last time he’d been to the store and saw how tuna prices had skyrocketed.

With his backpack loaded, Paulo took a deep breath. He knew his next mission would be the most dangerous. He needed to get out of the building and find a safe place. The police station seemed like an option, but it was far. "What if I get caught on the way?" he thought. But staying here wasn’t an option.

With the butcher’s knife in one hand and the backpack slung over his shoulders, Paulo prepared himself. He had survived the first night. Now, it was time to survive whatever came next. With that in mind, he took one last look at the apartment and stepped through the door, almost certain he would never return to this building for the rest of his life.

Just five steps down the stairs, Paulo stopped abruptly, cursing himself silently. “Great, genius. You grabbed food and forgot clothes. Next time, why not head out buck naked? Maybe the creatures will run away in shock…”

Ten minutes later, with a few changes of clothes crammed into his backpack, he was ready to face the streets — and whatever horrors awaited him out there.