The rain had been falling for days — soft, endless, and strangely peaceful.
From the broken classroom window, the world looked quiet… almost too quiet.
No birds. No voices. No life.
Just the sound of rain tapping against the glass like a heartbeat that refused to die.
He sat there, the last boy in the world, reading an old book with torn pages.
Its cover was faded, but the words could still be read:
"Pandora: The Mysterious Ship."
He had read it a hundred times already, yet every time he turned a page, the same thought came back:
> "So, this is how it all began… this cursed rain."
No one else was left to tell the story — no teachers, no parents, no girlfriend.
All gone.
All turned into the monsters they once feared.
But he? He was still here.
Still breathing.
Still reading.
---
Suddenly, from somewhere far behind the school walls, a faint sound began to play —
a strange music, low and haunting, like a jazz tune from another world.
It drifted through the hallways, echoing faintly in the rain.
He smirked, leaning back against the chair, eyes half-closed.
> "No one's left to stop me now," he muttered, voice cool and lazy.
"No one to judge. No one to tell me what's right or wrong."
He pulled a cigarette from his pocket — the last one he had — and lit it with a trembling hand.
Smoke curled into the damp air, mixing with the smell of blood and decay.
> "Now I can drink, smoke, or burn this whole world if I want."
"Because guess what?" — he exhaled the smoke —
"Nobody cares anymore."
---
He took a long drag, walked to the classroom door, and placed his hand on the handle.
Something on the other side moved — a soft thud, then another, and another.
He smiled, a little drunk, a little reckless.
> "Go ahead," he whispered.
"Try and scare me."
He pulled the door open.
A man collapsed inside.
His skin was pale, his eyes half-open, his mouth trembling.
A broken child's toy slipped from his fingers — soaked, torn, and lifeless.
The boy looked down calmly.
No fear. Just curiosity.
The man tried to speak, his jaw shaking.
Blood and saliva dripped from his mouth.
A bite mark was visible on his neck.
The boy crouched, watching quietly.
> "You're one of them, aren't you?"
The man shivered, reached out a hand — not to attack, but almost to beg.
The boy didn't move. He just smiled faintly.
> "If you bite me… maybe I'll finally belong somewhere," he said softly.
The man groaned, a guttural sound that barely resembled a voice.
Then his body went still — lifeless, twitching once before falling silent.
The boy closed the door again, brushed dust from his sleeve, and leaned his back against the wall.
That same music still played faintly outside — like a song for the dead.
He took another drag from the cigarette, staring out at the rain.
Each drop glowed faintly green under the lightning.
> "So this is how it spread…" he murmured.
"Through the rain."
A crooked smile formed on his face.
> "Well, whatever. The world's gone anyway."
He looked out the shattered window — the entire city drowned in silence.
A thousand corpses. A million memories.
And one boy who didn't care anymore.
> "Guess I'm the last one left," he whispered,
"and honestly… it feels kinda good."
The rain fell harder. The music grew louder.
And somewhere far in the distance,
a shadow — no longer human — began to move.
---
[End of Chapter 1 — Pandora: The Mysterious Ship]