All the Fiends of Hell

by Adam L.G. Nevill

He’d not survived the event. He’d been left behind. That fitted his profile and prospects. An oversight during the end of civilisation and the extinction of mankind. The last to hear, the most overlooked and easily forgotten person in the room, street, village, town. World.

Survivors were mere witnesses. A scattering of stragglers. No one would ever hear their brief stories. There were no more stories. A few desperate actions remained to be unrecorded and unremarked upon. Narrative had ended. Everything mankind had done and built and known was redundant, discarded. The world was a landfill. He found that the hardest thing to accept: that nothing would be commented upon again, nor processed. It just was. And then something else would continue in the place of his species.