Is this how it's supposed to end? All alone, with nobody else around to comfort me? No one else to share these final moments with? I guess not. I suppose I was meant to die alone, just me and what's left of my mind, with no one to bury my body or mourn my loss. It's rather depressing, honestly. Yes, I know that I will die tonight. I have accepted it, but that does not mean it doesn't make me sad still. I never wanted it to be like this... nobody did...

I still remember them, you know. People. REAL people. The ones that weren't monsters. I remember them clear as day, as if they never left. As if they never changed...

They used to frolic around so much, living their day to day lives, just like my friends and I. We were all people. Human. Weren't we? Yes, I believe so. I'm pretty sure at least... Am I still a human? I think so. Yes, yes I know I am. They never changed me, so I have to be. Yes, I am still a human. But are They? No. No, they aren't. And there is no hope for them. Not anymore. I don't know what they are anymore, but they definitely are not people. They are strange…things. Monsters. Always hungry, and never satisfied. What do they eat? People. The very people they used to be. That's how others get turned. There were others here, beyond the police. Others that were trying to stop them, to solve the problem before it could grow. They wanted to help us, stop people from being turned, and to cure the ones that had. Who were they...? I can’t seem to remember. I think they were scientists. Or were they doctors? That might have been it… Where was I? Oh yeah, everyone's plan to fix everything. Told us that they wouldn't stop, they wouldn't rest until the cure was made. Until they ended this eternal nightmare. I know they didn't, though. Otherwise, I wouldn't still be here, all alone, with nobody I can call a friend, a companion, a lover…

It's a little funny, though. Out of all of us, I was the last person anyone thought would be, well, the last person. Myself included. I never wanted to be the last one left. Why would any one person want to be the last? It's miserable. Trying to keep warm, searching for food, avoiding the monsters. But it's alright, it should all be over soon.

No, it won't be long now. Oh no. I know They'll find me soon, just like they found everybody else. It's getting dark out now, and they always come out in the dark. They come out to hunt, or scavenge, or whatever else it is they do. But never to talk, oh no. They don't talk anymore. They make strange, scary noises. They don't talk. I haven't heard them talk in... almost two years now. Of course, back then there were still others that did talk to me. Back when there were still more people, people other than myself. But now there aren't any. I have been alone for a long time... only having myself and my thoughts as company...

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

It seemed containable at first. When they first got out, we never worried. There were much more people than there were of them. We all thought that there was no way they would manage to take over, to wipe us out. I told my friends that it would be handled. That the police and the rest of the military would take care of it, that they COULD take care of it. I was wrong. The police were the first to go. When the cops were gone, they moved on to the rest of the military. It wasn’t long before the quarantines fell. Before more of the infected were loosed upon us. Then, they began turning regular people. Changing them, making them no longer human. They changed to become like them. We used to fall asleep, my friends and I, with the occasional screams of a doomed person echoing through the night as the infected got to them. One of us would keep watch, making sure they never got past our barricade. We would listen to the radio, waiting for the newsmen to tell us that they were stopped. That we had figured out a way to fix everything. That they could be turned back into people. They never did.

When the newsmen stopped broadcasting, we panicked. How else were we supposed to know what they were doing? If the military had finally started to push back? Eventually, we started going outside. We would go during the day, because the infected only come out at night. Soon though, we got bold. Too bold. We started going out at night, trying to get supplies, food, weapons to defend ourselves. Less of us came back each time. They grew in numbers each time.

I am the only one of us left. I'm tired of waiting, holding on to hope. There is no hope; they took it all away. All of my friends are gone, having become more of the infected a long time ago. I am the only one left, and my time is running out. I can hear them outside, clawing through the barricades. I haven't fixed them. I'm too tired. They're inside now, groping their way through the house. Trying to find me. Let them. I'm too tired. I miss my friends, and it's so very cold in here. Almost like an…an air conditioner! Air conditioner, that’s what it is. Ah, they are scratching at my door. Do you know what that means? They have found me. Come in! There is plenty of room for all of you. And you brought my friends! Won't you come closer? Yes, come closer my friends... closer... I haven't seen you in so long... We have so much to catch up on... But could you do something for me? Could you warm me up? Just like you did for all the others? Please, come warm me up. I'm so very, very cold…