As the shadow enveloped me, I was somewhat surprised (amidst the mind-numbing terror of course). Contrary to what I had feared, the monster did not instantly kill me. I had envisioned it snapping my neck, or squashing my brain, or something equally horrid.

No, what it intended to do was worse. It wanted to give me a slow, painful death.

As I lay there on the ground, crunched up in a fetal position, my knees to my chin, I could feel its icy aura dig into my skin. First, the parts uncovered by clothing, but soon enough, It felt like my very flesh was slowly freezing from the outside in. Not like on a cold day, but as if all the water inside my skin was completely frozen solid, and that ice was slowly creeping inward.

I don't know how long I was there, enveloped by this living shadow, but I began to feel tiredness approaching. I knew that if I fell unconscious, I would surely be dead - that's what happens during hypothermia, and this is a million times worse.

Then, something unexpected happened. From one second to the next, the icy aura stopped getting worse.

I heard some kind of sound through the veil of cold-induced stupor, similar to the one I'd heard during my previous night, but this time, it sounded terrified instead of terrifying.

I was still frozen over, and my eyes were still squeezed shut, but I wasn't getting any colder. In fact, if I'd been in any position to feel it, I'd have realized that I was slowly, very slowly, getting warmer again. Not only that, but the oppressive atmosphere that had built around me since I'd taken the first step into this town had decreased by many orders of magnitude, and I felt like I could finally breathe freely again.

Overwhelmed by my newfound chance at life, and my sudden freedom from the crippling fear, I finally fell unconscious.

***

When I awoke, it was to a soft, orange glow.

Scratch that, a soft, orange, flickering glow.

A fire.

I sat up abruptly, or at least tried to, because my hands and feet were hurting like hell. In fact, my entire body was feeling sore - It felt as if I'd spent a winter's day outside with no jacket.

My eyes cloudy, I moved to rub them, and was rewarded with an image that was much clearer. I was currently lying on the bedroll from my pack, which had apparently been eviscerated and its contents strewn about haphazardly.

I was still in the middle of the street, most likely where the monster got me, but there was a small fire, reminiscent of a tiny campfire, complete with rocks, burning next to me.

I eventually managed to sit up, rubbing my arms and legs, which still felt like they were frozen solid, but this time from the inside. I honestly felt colder than I probably had in my entire life, and the cold seemed to be set into my very bones, hanging on with icy teeth.

I looked around, trying to spot my would-be savior, when my glance fell to the other side of the fire.

On the other side of the fire, there sat a bird.

A raven, to be exact.

This was surprising for various reasons.

For instance, I was pretty sure that birds were wiped out right alongside humans. Secondly, and much more importantly, this raven appeared to read a book. One of my books, in fact. I can't honestly tell you how I knew that it was reading the book, and not, say, looking at an ant on top of the book, but I knew.

Then it looked up, and many more questions appeared in my mind.

I could feel that something was off about this bird. Not only did it appear to read a book, the way it was looking at me seemed ...intelligent. I don't know how to best describe it. The way this fucking raven looked at me seemed like it was contemplating something of vast importance. What would be of vast importance to a raven will be a question for another day, because it inclined its head sideways, as if asking for something. I felt compelled to answer.

"Ehm ...hi?" I asked it.

"Caw!" It responded.

I'm honestly not sure what I expected, probably for Morgan Freeman's voice to come out of this goddamn raven, but it seems I would be disappointed.

The raven hopped off what I realized was probably the corpse of my pack, stalked around the fire over to me, and pecked at my hand once.

"Caw!" it said.

I pulled back the hand, and it seemed pleased with itself, because it did a short hop to where someone had arranged my food reserves, took a granola bar in its beak, and threw it at me.

Catching the bar, I watched it grab the strap on my second canteen, and under much duress, drag it over to me as well.

"Caw," it said, motioning to the canteen with its head. "Caw" - the bar in my hand.

Just what did I get myself into.

After that, the raven returned to its perch on the remains of my pack, and began flipping through my book on herbal medicine. I wasn't sure if it could actually read, or if it was just looking at the pictures - I didn't bother with the question for long either, because my stomach took that moment to identify itself as needing attention.

I ate and drank in silence, the food and water melting away some of the residual ice inside my bones.

Afterward, I lay on my back, hands on my stomach, and listened to the tiny fire crackling, the raven occasionally flipping a page with its talons, and questioned my sanity for about the seventh time in the last few days.

Looking upward, into the night sky, it seemed that dawn was still far off. The moon was visible, though lit only from one side, and the stars were more numerous than I had ever seen outside of NASA pictures. After letting my eyes adapt, I could actually see the milky way up there.

I noted that this probably meant that the power grid had finally died, and light pollution of the heavens had ceased, allowing for full observation of the stars. Did this happen because of the monster, or were the streetlights a coincidence? I wasn't sure.

I also felt the exhaustion creeping in once again, though this time, it was welcome. After my encounter with the monster, almost freezing in the middle of the street and then being confronted with an apparently hyper intelligent raven, I was ready to go into merciful oblivion for the night.

***

When I awoke, it was already a lot past dawn. The fire had seemingly burned out on its own, and there was only mildly warm ash remaining, interspersed with some natural charcoal from the fresher branches that were used to kindle it.

I didn't see the raven anywhere, though I did notice that the books it'd apparently been reading were safely hidden inside my pack, which was not as eviscerated as I'd thought the previous night. One of the buttons was torn off, but the other one could still be closed.

I looked around a bit for my corvid savior, but found only my staff lying a few dozen meters away on the sidewalk, probably thrown there by the shadow monster, or by myself for that matter.

Eventually, I decided I couldn't wait around much longer, and began packing up my stuff. During this, I noticed that my canteens were pretty much empty and just drank all the water remaining inside them. I'd have to fill them up somewhere around here, maybe the tap water still worked without power?

After rolling up the bedroll and stowing it in its usual spot in my pack, I grabbed my staff, scattered the ashes of the little campfire, and made to move, only to turn around once more. I honestly couldn't just abandon my new friend, even if he was just a bird, so I grabbed a leftover piece of charcoal and wrote on the floor next to the scattered ashes:

"I went into town to get some supplies. I'll return here before I leave. If you want to come with, meet me here at dusk."

I'd assumed that he could probably read from his head motion the previous night, which actually seemed to follow the lines and not just the pretty pictures, I left it at that. If he returned, he'd probably want to come with.

Look at me, I thought to myself. Writing out messages to a bird. What has the world come to?

With that out of the way, I went into town, which was much less scary in the sunlight than at night. This town was apparently hit with the Burnout as well, as some of the townhouses I went past were little more than burned out husks, and some of them were just not there at all. I eventually went into one that was only slightly singed, located the kitchen, and tried to fill my canteens.

Which did not work.

I cursed loudly and colorfully, and began searching the kitchen for anything edible that wasn't a power bar or ravioli in a tin, an endeavor in which I actually succeeded. The fridge may have been powered down, but the veggies inside hadn't gone bad just yet. Carefully avoiding the meat (I really didn't want to chance salmonella), I got all the ingredients for a bomb-ass salad, which I promptly made and then consumed. The fresh produce was a welcome variety from endless cold noodles and tomato sauce.

After this brief distraction, I went into the cellar for something drinkable, be it just mineral water, or juice, or hell, beer.

Beer is actually an excellent food in the post-apocalypse, not only does it have alcohol which destroys microbes, but it also has enough calories to delay starvation for a day or two. I'd have to dilute it down, of course, but alas, I didn't find any anyway.

I did find an entire pallet of mineral water, which I used to stock up my canteens, rehydrate myself, and, taking one upstairs, used to brush my teeth in lieu of a functioning tap. I did spend a moment wondering if i should even bother brushing, before remembering that dentists were no longer a thing, and that tooth pain would be a real kick in the ass in my current situation.

Stepping outside into the warm sun, which seemed to only get warmer every day, I noted the car still sitting in the driveway of the house I just broke into. Luck appears to have been on my side, because when I looked inside the house once again, I could spot its keys hanging from a rack in the entry hall.

I quickly snagged them and checked the tank, which was about half full. So far, so good. I wouldn't have to abandon this one 10 miles out of town.

Suddenly, I kicked myself. How could I have been so stupid? In the little village quite a ways back, I saw a bunch of other cars, but didn't have the keys to them. However, that didn't mean they were useless, quite to the contrary. I almost slapped myself for my stupidity, I could have siphoned gas from the entire town and driven the car I got all the way here, and the whole business with the shadow demon would have been avoided!

Well, no matter obsessing about it now, I guess. I did notice what might have been a gas station at the edge of town when I got there the day previously. I hopped into the car, which I now noticed was a slightly older model, completely black, with a shape reminiscent of old muscle cars - I was feeling quite pleased with my new acquisition.

Turning the key in the ignition and listening to the hum of the engine reminded me of simpler days.

***

I got to the building, which did turn out to be a gas station, without much trouble. I had to dodge some stranded cars, but there were no large scale blockades or anything of the sort.

Standing in the gas station, I was faced with another conundrum: The pumps weren't on. I had only a vague understanding of gas station maintenance, that is to say, my knowledge included such gems as "gas comes out" and "money goes in", but I knew that every gas station had to have an emergency generator on site, so I entered the small shop that seemed to be ubiquitous for every single one.

I grabbed some candy bars and an important-looking key from the counter, entered the back rooms through a metal door, and eventually noticed an open hatch in the floor which led to the cellar, where the emergency generator should be located.

The basement was a small, dark and cramped ordeal. It seemed the main purpose of the place was to allow access to maintain some of the fuel pipes, or the main tank underneath the building. It didn’t take me long to spot the generator though; I could see it glinting a little bit from the small amount of light reaching the basement through the open door behind me.

After some standing around and looking at it, I eventually figured out that there was a slot for the key I'd found upstairs, so I turned it and pulled a metal cord that looked similar to the one on some lawn mowers. For a few moments only silence greeted me, and my heart leapt in my chest. Perhaps the generator was broken or had no fuel? Luckily, it seemed that at least someone up there was on my side, I pulled the cord again and this time, with a sputter, the thing sprung into life.

Making a quick exit to get away from the nearly deafening level of noise it was making, I went topside, and lo and behold, the pump worked again.

In short order I'd filled my tank, grabbed several empty canisters from the area and filled those as well, and left with a debt of 200$ flashing on the pump in direction of the previous night's campsite.

***

When I got there, the sun was already way past its zenith and quickly travelling to the west. I parked the car a small distance away and went to see if my new friend the bird had reappeared, which he apparently had.

The little message was now underlined, and beneath it, there was a passable rendition of a stick figure with long hair, presumably representing myself, with a bird, most probably representing the raven, on her shoulder. Next to it, there was a straight line with half a circle attached to it, which i eventually figured must mean the sun. It wasn’t dusk yet, so he had probably left after seeing my message - to do whatever it is birds do all day.

Why the raven had bothered to draw, rather than write, was a mystery to me. Just another thing to add to my list of bizarre questions about this whole scenario.

Getting bored of standing around, I eventually dragged one of the empty trash cans that were lining the street, sat on it, and waited for the sun to set.