Doomsday's Eve

Well, this is it. Night of the Final Day and all that. If nothing happens tommorrow, I must've done something right. I won't sugar coat this, I'm probably going to die, or worse yet, live for a lot longer. I've already spotted the enemy a couple of times, he's a lot taller than I remember, more menacing too. Now that I think about it more clearly, there's no way I could have mistaken this thing for human. Its pushing nine feet tall, and its limbs are held all wrong, like a marionette dangling by a single string. It gets a little closer every hour, but it just stands there watching. Ol' Faithful is loaded and ready to go, but come to it, it feels like a block of wood against whoever or whatever is waiting for its chance.