"I think the place is safe..."
The man spoke to his friend but with his eyes fixed forward. At the same time, his friend was also looking forward, a gaze that passed through the weeds as wide as the eye could see the height of an adult's knee that was golden yellow in the afternoon sunlight.
His friend, a man wearing a shabby trucker hat who was trying to grip the shotgun tightly in his hand, seemed silent and did not answer.
He stared silently. His gaze was like an eagle's. The man walking with him looked younger but had a face that looked wiser and happier.
"...what do you think?" his friend sounded urgent.
The man holding the shotgun still had not answered. He seemed to be observing his surroundings.
"...I don't think there is any sign that the creature ever came to that place," said the friend of the man holding the shotgun.
"I think so," now the man holding the shotgun was heard answering.
"Okay, let's go," the man holding the shotgun invited his friend and walked ahead of his friend.
The two men walked carefully. Their eyes seemed to be trying to catch anything moving in the sea of weeds around them.
A few minutes later, they apparently just realized that far to the right, about fifty meters on the edge of the pine forest, there were several wrecks of armored vehicles, such as tanks and machine gun trucks, that had been surrounded by grass.
"It looks like it came from the battle at the beginning of the invasion," said the younger man.
"...look..." he continued.
The man patted the shoulder of the shotgun holder and, with the tip of his finger, immediately pointed to a pile of cars not far from the tank wreck. The cars were stacked up, like a sandwich. Several birds seemed to stop at the top of the car wrecks.
They walked through the weeds for a hundred meters until they finally arrived at an abandoned camp. The camp they had talked about earlier when they were still on the hill of weeds.
"Do you still have bullets?" asked the man carrying the shotgun.
They had now stopped right in front of a worn-out gate. On the gate was written, "Welcome to the house saved by God."
They found several such writings along the way. Most of them—the writings—were invitations to join a community where a group of survivors who were residents of a rescue camp lived. In the past, these camps were built by the army. Actually, it was not a proper camp, but for post-disaster conditions, such camps could be very helpful.
Currently, the entire country is being attacked by creatures that have risen from the dead from the deepest abyss. They are ancient creatures that come from behind caves scattered throughout the world. They are believed to have taken shelter and settled there since ancient times. They have risen since the eclipse occurred several years ago. They are a group of creatures that have no souls other than only consisting of cruel creatures who like to eat anything that lives.
Initially, people still hoped that this was just a "strange" plague that would soon disappear. Unfortunately, no. One month, two months, three months, one year, until ten years, there were no signs. The monsters are now experiencing what government experts and professors call a "death creature mutation" - a combination of demons and monsters.
First, they have horn-shaped ears like curved beetle claws and serrated mouths. Now, they even have three eyes and snouts that resemble pangolins. They also have ears like wings that can flap. The most frightening of all is their three eyes, which are glowing red. This is certainly no longer a rational disaster. This is the last warning from God, before the wind blows the trumpet, a sign that the world and everything in it will collapse.
Several years after the disaster struck, people no longer hope for miracles. There are no wonders. People were hopeless and began to be steadfast. This is God's curse on what mankind has done for thousands of years of stopping by on earth. People are now resigned to waiting, hoping for the coming of the Messiah.
"...I think I still have some bullets," said the friend of the man holding the shotgun.
"...what do you think?" he continued.
"What do you want me to answer?" replied the man holding the shotgun.
"I don't even know what you're asking about..." the man holding the shotgun continued, he stepped forward, leaving his friend behind.
The neck of the shotgun in his hand he put on his shoulder. From behind, the man looked more dashing; his white shirt was dirty and full of blackish-red spots that were unable to cover the wounds on his back. He had been through a lot of battles, especially with evil creatures from hell. Just like his friend.
"I mean, is it true that people like us were chosen by God to face this disaster?" asked the friend of the man holding the shotgun.
"I wonder why God sounds unfair? Why did he send cruel creatures upon us?" he continued.
Now the two of them were right at the mouth of the camp gate. However, this camp had certainly been abandoned for a long time. The barracks on the left and right were already seen overlapping and falling. Maybe the residents fled to another place or were wiped out by the terrible creatures that were taking over the earth.
"God has given us many opportunities to...", the man holding the shotgun answered briefly.
They walked slowly. Passing the ruins of the barracks that were empty and deserted.
"...you're right..., I think so too," now the friend of the man holding the shotgun sounded relieved and more resigned.
"Oh God, if only there was a coffee shop in this place. I want to drink coffee. I'm really sleepy..." he babbled again and was heard yawning.
"Shhh, be quiet. You see...", the man holding the shotgun held back the babbling by holding his friend's chest with his hand.
They immediately took precautions.
"That..., look...," the man holding the shotgun whispered.
"...what, what's wrong...?" his friend also answered in a whisper. Now he was seen bending down and pointing the gun that he had just pulled from its holster. The muzzle of the gun was pointed forward.
He was getting ready.
"Over there...!"
"...where..., what are you looking at...?"
"Damn, dude...!" the man holding the gun was heard cursing. Meanwhile, his friend chuckled. He held back his laughter by covering his mouth with his leather-gloved hand.
About twenty meters away, there was a barrack that was probably used as a coffee shop. The barrack was damaged, and the doors and windows were broken. As if it had just been hit by a storm.
"Want to try your luck...?" the man holding the shotgun was heard teasing and winking.
His friend was silent. He looked annoyed.
"...Hey, this is my lucky day. Who knows they provide robusta," his friend tried to look cheerful even though he was still annoyed because he felt he was being played.
The man holding the shotgun immediately embraced his friend. The two men walked straight ahead, while it was a few minutes until dusk. They had to hide immediately. Now, it was time for the creature from the cave of death to walk: at night.
