Such a normal, small, everyday thing that goes unnoticed until it it's not happening anymore. The chirping of birds.

The apocalypse. A stop in time. The end of the world. Who could've imagined it would be started by such a small thing?

       Michael and Finn were best friends since the age of four. They did everything that a growing ten year old would do with their best friend and partner in crime, simple enough right? One of the normal little boy things they did was play make believe. On this specific day, they were pretending they were mad scientists making a crazy concoction in an old toilet bowl in the storage shed. The toilet was old and dusty and at one point had been used in Finn's mother's attempt of recycling things to plant flowers in.

       The entire Sunday afternoon, as soon as they were let out of church, they began brainstorming and gathering supplies for the serum. Of course, they only had access to the lower shelves that they could reach in their pantries and closets, so the ingredients weren't all that scientific.

       Chicken noodle soup, glitter glue, a sock that had hardened over time due to either too much starch or not enough washing, powder they found behind the dryer that was without any labels except 'not for human consumption', and twelve silicon packets from under the couch. They wanted it to be cooked, obviously, so Michael took his dad's WD40 and sprayed it over the soupy mess and tossed in a zippo lighter.

       "Wait until the fire goes out and we can have some! Then we will become like the hulk or Captain America!" Michael said excitedly.

       "I'll go get some sticks to stir it with, be right back!" He left the tool shed and grabbed a couple of twigs he deemed worthy of their creation and returned to the imaginary lab. When Michael opened the door, the fire had died down, but Finn was standing in the corner and staring at the wall.

       "Finn?" Michael asked, stepping closer. His friend's hands were dripping with the slimy soup from the toilet. "Finn." Michael poked his friend on the shoulder with one of the sticks. Finn turned around slowly and looked at his friend through his dull, cloudy eyes. The child was close to unrecognizable. His skin had paled and taken a sickly irritated tint to it. His eyes were void of emotion and half lidded and his head was tilted, having lolled to the side when he turned to his friend. Finn's mouth hung slightly open allowing gravely breaths, unnatural for a ten year old boy, to escape in quick bursts.

    "Jesus, Finn!" Michael recoiled, his eyes wide. What used to be Finn shuffled a couple inches towards Michael only stopping to glare at him, and launched himself suddenly, tackling the other child to the floor and taking a large meaty chunk out of his best friend's arm. It does put a damper on the friendship, doesn't it?