The funeral occurred on a damp grey day. It was just one of many on that day. The cemetery was filled with flowers from the hundreds of new graves and freshly broken hearts. Families lined up one after the other awaiting their turn to say good-bye to their loved ones.
Back at that time they were still holding services for the dead. This was before the fear set in as society broke down towards the end times. There were mourners instead of disease controllers. The world was still coping, families still existed, and there were no stone throwers.
The casket was lowered down into the deep and dark hole in the ground and the family was hurried away in order to make ready for the next funeral. The hole was quickly filled in. A wreath of flowers was set upon the dirt.
Once the men were done filling one hole, they leaned on their shovels waiting for the next service to end. Like clockwork they would jump in and fill the hole. This ritual would continue every day until the sheer number of the dead would make it impossible to have individual services. It didn’t happen all at once, it took a few years, but chaos was the end result. The darkness was coming, everyone knew it, but no one wanted to acknowledge that the end was now a guarantee.