( the apocalypse | work in progress ) by lunaclipsed, literature
Literature
( the apocalypse | work in progress )
As she stared up at the ceiling of the room, lying on the cold, hard ground with only a thin blanket wrapped around her form inside the sleeping bag, Ava pondered as to how the world came to this. She was twenty-three years old and instead of attending college classes, she, as well as the rest of humanity, were now at a type of war with the undead. It was strange, to say the least. It'd been months since the apocalypse started, but each time she spotted one of those creatures – with their rotting flesh, sunken eyes, and horrible, horrible moans – it always felt like the first.
Sometimes, when she slipped into her sleeping bag, Av