A Letter from the Future

    When people think about the end of the world, most imagine the world to be in chaos at the time.  That they know the exact time that the world will end, that the good will disappear first, then a period of chaos, then everything will go black. But they are wrong.
Lord, are they wrong.
    Who am I? Just an average citizen from a small hick town during the year… I probably shouldn’t say. It’ll disrupt the space-time continuum. As if I’m not already. But this is important. I can only hope that the calculations I did were correct and this is received at one of the important events so that you readers could divert the chain of events that lead to my present predicament.
    The world is ending. I can feel it in the air. We all can. No one is panicking though. We knew this day would come. People go about their work quietly, avoiding eye contact, afraid of meeting someone’s gaze lest they be the One.
    The One is something people fear worse than the Grim Reaper, worse than death itself. The One is the last of the twins born in the middle of the night on December 14, 2012. All twins born that night aged so rapidly that by their third breath, they were already full grown, their eyes glowing an eerie green with a purpose.
Then the killing began.
     All over the world, people with red hair seemed to just vanish, in the wink of an eye, soon people couldn’t even remember that such people had existed at one point. All pictures containing them became blank. Only a handful of people that I can count on one hand could remember that there had been people with red hair. I was one of them.
Next were the Jews.
    The whole country of Palestine just seemed to erupt into one massive ball of flame, bigger than any nuclear explosion that had happened in the past. The whole country was incinerated instantly. Sects known to be Jewish all over the world blew up at the same time.
Then the Middle East.
   The blast from Palestine expanded to the edge of its  borders, where the giant mushroom cloud morphed into a giant, terrible hurricane that carried a huge  tsunami across the Sahara, to wipe out all the Muslims and other citizens of the heat.




Countless others.


    Because someone in each religious sect that was wiped out gave birth to twins that night, twins whose eyes glowed with green hatred as they already chose their victims.
Once their prey was no more, they carried no purpose. They breathed their fourth and final breath, and vanished, leaving nothing but a trail of destruction in their wake, as the world spun further and further out of control.
    Only one set of twins remained. They had been born in an old house, their mother died the instant they were out. No one else was around. They had no specimen from which to wipe out an entire people. They took their fourth breath… and their fifth… sixth….. tenth. They didn’t stop breathing. No one know how old they grew, or if they even aged after their third. The Last began roaming the Earth, knowing they had to choose carefully the final faction that would be completely eliminated and forgotten abruptly.
As they hunted, the sun shone blood red, ready for the kill. The moon hung beside it, the green of the Last’s eyes reflected in it's semi-lumious body to glow down on the people. Few dared leave their homes. Those brave enough disappeared.  The Last’s eyes dimmed in strength, as over time they still couldn’t find the best target. Realizing that they were dying, the Last did something that they knew would destroy the rest of mankind.
One eliminated all plant life.
     Everything that grew in soil or sand died and withered away all over the world in a span of ten seconds. Animals began dying from lack of food. People started dying from lack of oxygen. Desperate people broke into old age homes, stealing the life support systems, hoarding what goods they could. It was truly chaos.

And then it stopped.
     At dawn in the middle of summer, people woke up to find themselves in a global blackout. By noon, the sun had turned blood red, with the moon right beside it, an eerie green. All knew what it meant. One of the Last had survived and was hunting. They knew what he would take- the remaining oxygen, all forms of it, leaving them with poisonous gases. But he hasn’t- not yet. He is searching for something. Not to destroy, but to use- to create another of the Last. To ensure that death will visit every corner of the globe, that every human is dead- except one. He needs one- to colonize the planet with his own kind.
All pray to higher powers that they will not be chosen. They dare not look into each other’s eyes for fear that it may be the One who meets their gaze and smiles through pointed teeth below emotionless, glowing, green eyes as he grabs them and drags them away. The Last don’t care about gender, they care about spawning new evils and descendants to live in the world that they created.

Be warned.
 The Last can only be killed if you cut off their right small toe and then stab them in the base of their skull with a pointed, narrow object while the toe regrows. Do not, under any circumstances, remove that object. Burry them below the water table so that they may not dig themselves out.

You are our last hope.

Save us.

In my own hand, in the year of Death’s Door,


The End

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