One night, a horde of monsters destroyed my village. I feel light against my eyelids and slowly open my heavy eyes. Everything is silent. Did I wake up too early? Thinking this, I sit up and raise my head to look around. The scene before me is one of horrific devastation. The surrounding houses are collapsed, and familiar faces lie fallen in the street. No one is moving, not even a twitch.

I realize that Guest is not in a warm bed, but inside a fallen wardrobe. The morning sun must have hit my face through the crack in the door that flew open when it fell.

How many times has it been like this...? I grew hungry, and fortunately, the food hadn't run out. I am the lone survivor. I thought about wanting to die so many times, yet my stomach still growls, and I eat when I shouldn't... and yet, I can't help but eat. How cruel is this thing called life, that somewhere deep down, it still wishes to live...

This is a remote land. The next village is a considerable distance away, requiring one to cross several mountain passes. Furthermore, this village is unique and rarely interacts with the outside world. Since they only had contact about twice a month, it wasn't a situation where I would be found immediately.

I eat and drink, and when my house runs out of food, I take from other houses. Strangely, I never thought of leaving this village. Using the strength I gained from eating, I buried the thirty or so familiar villagers. How cruel for an eleven-year-old child. Feeling nothing, saying nothing, the only sounds are the digging of dirt and the dragging of bodies. A strange silence, as if all living things had vanished since that day. Not even the wind blew.