I woke up and tried to sit up, but hit something hard. Then, I felt another body next to mine, though strangely, it was lifeless. It dawned on me that I was buried alive, with a recently deceased corpse to accompany me. The situation was distressing, to say the least, but I reasoned that it was an easy fix. All I needed to do was open the coffin, simple enough. I kicked the coffin, and surprisingly, it opened up. It was hard to see much; the air seemed to be enveloped in thick dust. Suddenly, something hit my back. I picked it up, and it turned out to be a bone. I looked behind me and noticed what looked to be a skyscraper composed of countless disheveled corpses.

Looking around, I suddenly realized that I had no idea why I was in this hell. I thought about my day. It was a day like any other, and I was heading off to work. I had eaten breakfast, kissed the wife and kids, took my briefcase, got in the car, and ended up in a traffic jam. Typical of any other day. But suddenly, there was a flash—a sudden, bright flash in the sky. And after that, I woke up in the coffin.

How long have I gone? I had no idea, but miraculously, I was alive. In excitement, I decided to get in my car and drive back home to tell the missus the good news. However, it dawned on me. Whatever happened, it was certain that my family was not so lucky. I was likely the last man alive.

And with this realization, I decided to just close the coffin. It would be a great place to simply steep and starve. Yes, that was what I should do. Unfortunately, my attempt to return to the coffin was prevented. As I was about to lay down, I felt something push me out. As I regained my bearings, I looked back and saw a hand closing the coffin. Desperate for a place to die in dignity, I lunged towards the coffin, desperate to pry it open, but it was no use.
But as I treaded through the pile of corpses, a realization came to me, one that strangely made me feel relieved: It turned out that I was not the last man alive after all.