He knows

The clatter of hooves could be heard from the open bay window of the century old mansion. The cool breeze separated the crocheted curtains ever so slightly, as it entered the home. The intrusive wind flickered the candle on Mr. Tidwell’s desk, it went unnoticed as he continued to sit hunched over his parchment, quill in hand, writing hastily. Suddenly, the sound of scratches caught his attention; he froze, blue eyes wide with fear, and turned to the marvelous grand staircase. He dropped his quill into the inkwell, and pushed out his chair from the desk. The sound grew louder still as it scraped against the oak floors. His knees, weak from fright, gave him trouble as he rose from his desk. Grabbing hold of the massive wooden railing, he inched tentatively up the stairs, moving one foot in front of the other.

The stairs cried out under his weight as he ascended them, it echoed though the old walls. Tidwell kept his eyes focused in the direction of the mysterious sounds, his breath, heavy and labored. All the while the scratching noises grew in volume. After what seemed like hours he reached the top of the stairs. Tidwell paused in front of the window as the twilight glow cast reflections off his long sandy blonde hair and onto the wall behind him. The sounds escalated still, wild and angry now, like an animal trying to burrow to safety from a predator. Tidwell took a moment to gather himself, then swiftly moved towards the source of the awful noises, the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. His long boney fingers clumsily fumbled with the doorknob; he griped it tightly, turned it slowly, and threw the door open. He felt a strange pressure in his chest; akin to the pressure one would feel while climbing a mountain. The sensation...

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... Tidwell attempted to grab the film. But it was to no avail. The camera began to spark; in shock and confusion he threw it onto the luxurious bed. The flames rose, engulfing the bed, and soon the curtains became fabrics of fire. He ran out of the burning home, and onto the streets. He screamed of the horrors he had witnessed, and soon people were gathering around him. Someone had come up behind him and then everything grew dark.

When he awoke he was in a small room, chained to an uncomfortable cot. With his arms and feet restrained. Tidwell struggled and cried for assistance. A lady dressed all in white entered the room. She held his head up, and forced a large beige pill down his throat along with some stale water. He spluttered and almost choked on the substance. However soon he drifted off into unconsciousness, the only man to know the grim future of the Earth.