For Charloft - The End of the World

[a_bittwisted]

CHARLOFT
It's the end of the world in your reality and everyone is being sent to shelters, rockets, whatever. You're only allowed to bring ten items, excluding clothes, so what do you decide to bring to pass the time while the bombs are dropping, wind is blowing, aliens are blowing things up, and zombies are biting?

Bonus Points: Write a short fic / RP scene about this event.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t known this was coming. It wasn’t surprising, the end of the world, she’d been hearing about it for months for all around. Seals and Lucifer and evil little girls, only half of it made sense, as always. You can never get the whole story, not from the living, not from the dead.

But it was still a bit of a shock when it actually happened. She guessed it was one of those stupid human things, not believing the world could really end until it did. Thinking someone, somewhere, would stop it, just like every other near catastrophe.

Only not so much near as here, now.

And it wasn’t even big, at least, not that she remembered. It was more than a little foggy. It was just ‘normal world’ one second and then the worst example of a dictatorship ever, and why was she still here? How didn’t they kill her, kill everyone else? Waking up in some random warehouse, not bleeding, actually bandaged, not tied up, her knife in reaching distance and five guns, she thinks, her vision is tunneling now that she’s sat up, against the far wall, was not what she was expecting after evil took over. And she knows it did, there’s no way that the hunters beat off all the demons, there were hundreds just where she’d been let alone the rest of the world. Things no one in the history of the world knew how to kill.

But here she is, alive, free, still human, surrounded by what looks like other hunters, weapons in their fists even now when they’re sleeping. And there’s Ellen, she relaxes a little, that’s a huge relief for now.

Although she can’t quite shake the thought that maybe it would have been better not to live through this.

She can’t help but laugh a little, actually, she thinks she’s got drugs in her system because she’s feeling pretty great, end of the world and all, and the thought of all those people who were fighting for a green society and trying to end global warming, maybe they could have done something, but now it doesn’t matter all that much.

Lucifer isn’t going to be deterred by flooding or extinction or the sun exploding.

This is crazy. There’s clean, burn and blood free, clothes next to her. There’s her dad’s knife, a couple of her other knives, a gun. Her journal, even. How the hell did whoever did this get a hold of any of that, she buried it. It’s mind boggling. Everyone else has similar things next to their sleeping bags, and where did they get that, too?

She knows she should be trying to figure out what’s going on, why she’s here and where here is, but screw that – what can she do about it now anyways? It’s not like there’s anywhere to run.

And she smells food.