The snow had stopped.

One second, it was coming down, ravaging the earth with its white flurries, just as it had been for the past six months.

Then it was gone.

No flakes falling through the air. No icy hail wrecking everything in its path.

Just a dark cloudy sky.

My fingertips went to the clouds, my ruined gray gloves offering minimal protection from the cold. A gray hue coated the earth. I waited patiently, knowing a snowflake would fall. This had to be an illusion. My fingers splayed out in the air. I felt the frosty breeze against my dry, cracked skin.

Nothing.

My arm dropped back to my side; my mouth agape as I gazed skyward. It'd stopped. The snow had stopped. I couldn't wrap my head around it fast enough. How? Why now?

And then another thought: It wouldn't last long.

That was the mistake we'd made the last time the sky had stopped trying to kill us. The only difference now was that the sky had already destroyed us.

Humanity was dead.

Maybe there were survivors, but not humanity.

I had to keep moving. Stopping meant death. Falling meant death. Staying outside too long in an area as open as the white field I now stood in meant death. I had to reach warmth. Safety.

I knew my destination. I saw my goal ahead of me. The mere idea of a warm shelter kept me going. It was only a hope, of course: that the store I was headed to would somehow still have electricity. A very unlikely hope at that. If anything, at least I could scavenge supplies from it.

That was the one thing left keeping me human: hope. And I wouldn't let it go.

I forced myself to lift my heavy boots out of the snow and plant them down again. I trudged my way through the cold, focused on reaching shelter. It'd been an hour since I'd first sighted it – the top of a store jutting out from the landscape. Any reprieve from my constant trek through the cold was a mercy.

It'd been a long time since I'd started this torturous march, trying to get as far away from my origin as possible. That was where it'd all gone wrong.

A chill went down my spine.

Blue-paneled suburban house. Perfectly cut lawn. Three bedrooms...one for my mom, one for my brother...and one for me.

A sudden blast of wind hit my face and my arm instinctively blocked it. Just a little further. I pushed myself to move faster, to drag myself a bit quicker...

And then I saw it.

A glimmer of light amidst the spiraling flurries driven into the air by the harsh wind. My heart rate sped up. I stomped forward quicker as the wind battered me. One foot got caught on a particularly dense pack of ice and I tripped, my body propelling forward. I landed face-first, fingers splaying against its frozen surface.

I lifted my head.

The top of a large building with white-painted walls covered in multicolored graffiti stood in front of me. Words from a past age, before everything froze over, adorned the bricks.

I pushed myself off the ground, eyes focusing instead on the white light that leaked out of the glass windows of the store. A sign hung crookedly above the entrance with words that were impossible to read, their deformities too great to make out any solid letters.

The snow had eaten up most of the building, but it'd been tall enough to stay surfaced. The windows at the store's front were slightly open, creating an entrance.

Numbly, I stumbled towards them. It took me a moment to realize I was no longer trudging through snow piles. Now, it was only ice. I almost slipped again but caught myself. I pressed my palm against the brick wall, fingers too numb to feel it.

The corner of the store was a few feet away. Once I moved past that edge, I'd be able to see inside.

I took another step, my boot cracking a shallow puddle. The sound was a sharp crack in contrast to the soft whistling of wind. Light hit my face as I stepped closer to the window. I shielded my eyes, the brightness blinding me for a moment before I could see what was inside.

I never should've come out here.

In seconds, my back was pressed up against the white bricks, heart beating ten times faster than usual. Blood sped through my veins. The image was scarred into my brain.

The room was on the second floor of a building. Stairs in the corner lead to an underground area that hadn't been used in months. But that wasn't what had terrified me.

A man and a woman had been standing on one side of the store, both equally beaten up with clothes just as dirty as the ones I wore. Across from them had stood a bulkier man carrying a stack of coins in his hand.

More unnervingly was the fourth member of their party: a boy of around fourteen. He'd stood between them, his clothes torn, lips cracked and blue, barely able to hold himself up with the chains that trailed down from his wrists and into the hand of the bulkier man as he held out the coins to the man and woman.

Even now, I could hear the low rumble of discussion over the soft blow of wind.

I hadn't just stumbled upon any store. It'd been claimed by the gangs in the area, as a place where they could trade supplies, food, drugs....

Humans.

I knew I should have stayed away when I saw the light. Electricity was rare – it was a luxury. I should have known people like them would be here.

I shut my eyes, trying to force the image away. I wanted to forget that I'd ever seen it. I'd already known about this - I'd seen the people who'd been captured and forced into servitude before. Usually, the gangs preyed upon those smart enough to have escaped their homes before completely being snowed under. They were the ones who roamed the barren ivory landscape alone.

But those people, those who still had enough hope to continue roaming aimlessly, naively not knowing the truth about the gangs, would find out soon that there was no light at the end of this tunnel. There were no guides to save them. Everyone was on their own. Everyone cared only about their own needs, their own survival. Alliances were formed for self-preservation. Love was dead. Empathy was dead.

Just like humanity was dead.

Part of it died when those first few snowflakes fell, crushing the hope that had resurrected in the people the second the rain had stopped. Then, over the course of a few months, it continued to die, with each daily news reel announcing ghastly reports. The only good news came on days when the temperature was slightly higher, and the height of the snow would decrease minutely. Over time, people lost all hope.

The sound of footsteps rang out from inside the store.

"As planned," responded another. Suddenly, whoever had been speaking was walking in my direction.

I already knew how they treated the people that they found helpless in the snow mounds. I'd survived long enough to know when I had to run, and this was one of those times.

As the footsteps neared, I took small steps back, keeping silent. Too much noise and they might find me.

There was a light squeaking as someone opened the window. Then, a sudden blast of warmth exploded from inside. I could feel it despite how far away I was.

I pressed my back against the wall as two people stopped moving right outside the entrance, their backs towards where I stood hidden in the darkness. I heard whispers but could make nothing from the fragments.

An odd thought came to my mind. There was only one man in the store with the chained boy. One man, who'd looked extremely strong, but if I could catch him by surprise...

I might be able to free the boy. I had a knife shoved into my boot. I could feel it pressing up against my ankle. All I had to do was sneak in through the door. Then, when the man wasn't looking, attack. It wouldn't be too difficult. That boy didn't deserve what was coming to him.

Then again, the whole attempt would be a risk. If I got caught, there would be no one out there to save me from the horrors of becoming a gang servant.

Everybody fought for themselves. Heroes didn't exist anymore.

And, although I never wanted to admit it, I was already dead inside, too.

I stared at the couple standing in front of the store, the idea dissipating from my mind.

Then, one of them turned around.

I could tell the exact moment his predatory, dark eyes locked onto mine.

Adrenaline rushed through me, every muscle coming alive in that exact second. The world stopped for a moment as he held my gaze.

"Hey!" And the moment broke.

My feet flew across the slippery pavement. The next second, I was pounding through snow, boots getting stuck every few seconds. It was like running through water: the more I tried to speed up, the more it felt like I was slowing down. It reminded me of those dreams where I'm never fast enough to escape, no matter how hard I try.

My boot got caught in a deep pile of snow. As I tried to rip it out, a soft breeze of air passed by my cheek. I looked back to see the man pull the trigger of a gun. No bullets – just darts. I barely ducked in time.

I knew what the darts meant. They didn't want to kill me, they wanted to use me. That's how the gang communities thrived – off slave work from the survivors.

I began yanking desperately on my boot. Panic rose, rearing up like a python. No, no, no. I had to escape. I just had to pull a little harder...

I felt a release as the snow let go of its suctioned hold on my foot. Except...it was only my foot. My boot was still stuck in the snow.

I didn't have time to try to pull my boot out. At that exact second, I felt something pinch my right shoulder. I reached back as fast as I could and pulled out the dart, chucking it away. Shoot. I stood up again and ran. Or tried to run. The drug slid through my veins, poisoning my blood as I moved, making my vision blurry and my legs lead. But I had to keep going. I couldn't stop now.

The sound of boots thundered behind me. I prayed one of them slipped on ice.

I winced with every step as my bare foot pressed into the snow. It was like running through a sea of needles. As darkness consumed the outer edges of my vision, I crawled behind a large icy tree trunk. I urged myself to climb it like I'd done so many times before, wrapping my legs around the bark and pulling upwards, except it didn't work. The more I exerted myself, the more the blackness seemed to cover my vision. My body fell to the ground, the impact softened by a snow pile. My breathing slowed. The snowy tree branches swayed back and forth above me in the relentless wind. Some part of my brain was screaming at me to get up, but a more persuasive voice told me to relax. To resign myself to this fate. I couldn't feel the stinging cold on my foot anymore, even as snow started falling again, burying me.

The world disappeared completely, darkness consuming my field of view. Its hold on me was almost comforting as my nerves stopped working.

My body gave up. What was there to fight for?

There was nothing left.

No love. No heroes or happy endings.

They didn't exist.

Not anymore.