The End: Children of the Apocalypse

Five-year-old Matthew Tanner shot straight up in the uncomfortable top bunk of the bunk-bed he was sleeping on. "A nightmare," he thought as he wiped the beads of sweat from his small forehead. It was just a dream. He had been having the same dream for as long as he could remember. A dreadful dream about monsters taking over the world. That wasn't the only thing his dream was about. In his dream, he saw large, terrifying creatures with jagged, razor-sharp teeth. They had long black claws, as sharp as steel blades; like the guy from that horror movie he had come across on the TV when he was supposed to be sleeping on Halloween Night last year. Except they weren't gloves, but were attached to massive hands nearly the size of his head. The creatures had murderous red eyes that pierced through his subconscious, peering at him. He felt as if they were still watching him, stalking him. Matthew shuddered and the hair on the back of his small neck stood up as he felt himself get goose-flesh. Just a dream. Matthew, his mother Anna, his father Dan, and his two-year-old sister Cheryl were camping at a cabin by a lake in the Colorado mountains. His father enjoyed fishing, and every year they left Boulder to go up to the cabin and spend some time away from the bustling, hectic city. Matthew liked it in the mountains, yet something scared him about the vast expanse of nothingness. Nothing but trees, mountains, and caverns. Matthew rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He had to go to the bathroom but was worried he would wake up his father and mother, so he decided he would quietly tip-toe to the bathroom but not turn any lights on. The darkness scared him, but his father's anger scared him more. Although his father was a kind, caring husband and father, when he got mad he turned into a different person. Thankfully, his father didn't get angry often, but the last time he had gotten mad at Matthew, he had snatched him up by the collar of the shirt and slammed him against the wall and yelled for what seemed like an hour at him. His father terrified him so much that Matt was sure his Dad was going to seriously injure him or his mother one day in his fits of rage. He didn't think his father was a bad person, or that he meant to be so horrible when he got angry, but he didn't blame his mother for telling his father that if he didn't change, it would be best that she took Matt and his sister away for "a while" to her sister Mary's in Florida. That's when his father had started to drink a lot. That's when things got really bad. Luckily, his father seemed to be in good spirits on their camping trip to the mountains. He wasn't drinking as much and seemed to be back to being like he used to be. His mother and his father even seemed to be getting along, which was a rarity these days. Usually they fought over anything and everything that two married adults could fight about. After using the restroom, he quietly tip-toed back to his room. As he was walking towards his bed past his window he was startled. He thought he saw something moving outside the window. Large, looming, with large, piercing murderous eyes like the ones he saw every night in his dreams. He panicked and tried to make a run for his bed but before he could catch himself, he fell with a giant "THUD!" to the ground. He had tripped over something. He felt something warm, wet, and sticky on his face. He tried to feel around but he was now covered in whatever the liquid was and it was too slippery for him to try to get up the way he was struggling to. He managed to crawl his way to the bunk-bed and then he reached his hand over fumbling for the light. When the lights flickered on, to his horror, he saw a scene that would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life. A gruesome, b****y scene that would continue to haunt him, even 5 years after that terrible night. The night that changed humanity forever.