Joe
1.
7000. Seven thousand. It is a very interesting number. A seven with three following zeros. Zero’s being especially odd considering that nobody knows when in culture they really existed. They are a totally unnatural incarnation of man. There is not really much more significance to the number, but there was a mass disappearance today. 7000 people vanished. Keys in the ignition, houses unlocked, food on the stove, dogs humping each other. It was a normal day with that one exception.
The people who are buying into the end of days phenomenon are loving it. They feel vindicated even if they are still on earth. There are a few questions being risen though. If this is the rapture, is 7000 the total number? Is it just the start or is that all of them? Depending which religious view is followed 7000 could either be a really big number, or a really small one. Some believe that all, except for the Satanists, will be called upon in the presence of god and be able to make their final choice. Others believe that the ones called upon are the true believers. The devout. Others believe it is all bullshit and that we should return to our homes and load up the shotgun just incase.
Nobody can prove anything though. They could have all just been swallowed by the earth in a sudden fit of rage. Gaia could be pissed off and start sniping people left and right. When you look at it that way, 7000 is a really tiny number compared to how many people actually walk on her delicate soil. That is a much smaller number than those lost to natural disasters. Tsunami’s can claim upwards of 40,000 people. Earthquakes can destroy an entire civilization, like Atlantis, in less than a few hours. If
So it is just a matter of perspective here. Perspective and personal beliefs. Some do believe that Jesus has risen and is recruiting followers, others believe that the Anti-Christ has finally decided to grace us with his presence. If it is the Anti-Christ, he is at least a couple years late by some religious schools of thought. Others think that there is nothing to worry about. Time to pop a bear and watch your favorite show. Well that would be possible without all of the “Late Breaking News” interruptions. The upside here is the lack of commercials being aired.
Regarding alliances… The former president has reappeared to lead us out of this mess. He is one of the only acting politicians in view so people are letting him run with it. He has drawn a definite line in the dirt though. Either one follows him, or they face the consequences. He hasn’t really mentioned what the consequences are yet, but he does imply that that is not a good road to choose. Once again, some believe it, others laugh in the face of potential danger.
He has declared martial law. Well… Declared is the wrong word. He has asked nicely if we can follow the typical procedures, but realizes that he lacks the manpower to enforce it. At least he sees where his abilities are at current and tries not to cross those lines. At least not cross them with both feet.
2.
Joe has been dealing with things on a much more dismal level. Ever since the reporter was relieved of his mortal coil Joe has been bothered. Whether it is his own mental issues, or honest spirits, he can’t be sure. He doesn’t even know what an honest spirit is, but for his sake he is better off finding out versus meeting what is really consuming his thoughts.
Joe has become more attune with… Let’s just say nature for now. This isn’t the right word, but it’ll suffice for now. Certain things are keeping tabs on Joe. These things are just doing what they were told. They are just soldiers in a very odd army. A very dark army.
Joe decided to take a quick shortcut down a very dark alley on his way home from work. The brick work looked eerie during the day, but at night housed disturbing shadows. Terrible noises. Forsaken destinations.
The shrieking startled Joe out of his daze. The sound seemed to emanate from a miniscule crack between two dilapidated bricks. These two bricks were significant to somebody else years before. One of them had been dropped on a poor handicapped girls head from the roof of the 30 story building. The impact did not kill her instantly, instead she waited for over 12 hours to die. Her final breath moved from her lips as the ambulance was loading her up. The second brick had been a homeless mans pillow, and anvil, as an unknown individual had crushed in his temple and gouged out his eyes with the spike of a boot.
Some believe that the souls of the two were trapped in the bricks. Nobody had tested the theory, but it is believed that they would stay with the bricks no matter where they were moved. Most people who knew the story were too afraid to even touch them, let alone move them. The souls were known to not be the kindest ever. They never actually hurt anyone, but they would dig into peoples minds and torture them. Some were driven so far past the brink of madness that they never returned. Some never even made it out of the alley way.
He looked at these two bricks. The two that were chattering away. The two lose bricks. They clawed at his mind. Images of death and decay. Images of life ended. Images of his own mortality. They called to him. They told him to take them with him. They needed to sleep. They needed to leave this place. They needed a new life.
Joe removed a knife from his pocket and scratched a few thin layers of mortar away. He lightly rapped on each brick, and when satisfied, removed them one at a time. Lacking the necessary backpack or pockets to safely store and transport his two new friends he decided, logically, to carry one in each hand. They seemed to like Joe.
As Joe continued down the alley he started to see the shadows, which appeared stationary, start to move. Movement alone would not have been too major, but they were converging on him as well. He closed his eyes and told himself to calm down. “It’s just an illusion. My eyes are playing tricks on me,” he said to no one of importance.
“No it’s not,” said one of the bricks.
“She’s right you know,” said the other.
He barely heard, but he did hear.
“Keep walking, trust me,” said the girl brick.
“Yes, keep going. Try not to stop,” said the man brick.
“You really want me to trust a brick? Why am I even talking to you?”
“Because you want to live,” both bricks said in unison.
He knew they were right. He would deal with the mental implications of talking to bricks later, right now he wanted to get out of this alley and live. Needed to live.
“We will explain it later, but for now you need to get moving. Those shadows are not going to be friendly if they catch you. We know. We’ve seen it more than once.”
“She’s right. Walk boy. Now!”
Joe started walking slowly.
“Did you not hear the urgency in my voice? I was telling you to move you ass, and fast,” he said.
Joe didn’t skip a beat. From a nice stroll to a full on sprint in one stride. The shadows started to follow.
400 yards to go… To reach salvation… To live.
The shadows weren’t amazing fast, nor were they smart, but what they lacked in speed and brains they gained in numbers. With every step another materialized out of, well, the shadows. They were beginning to suffocate the alley. They were making the light at the end of the tunnel look dim and distant. With every step they got closer.
One of the bricks let out a shriek which caused Joe to eject it from his hand.
“Pick her back up. She was doing that for your benefit.”
He did as he was told and in doing so noticed that the shadows had stepped back a little. She was mad. Every advantage she had just given him was lost with the delay that he had caused. She didn’t feel too convinced that they were going to survive.
Joe was tired. He was rundown. He was panting. Less than 100 yards to go.
“I can’t make it,” Joe said.
“I know you can. Just push it,” she said, even if she didn’t entirely believe it.
“I..”
“I know, you agree with her. I got it,” Joe said.
He plodded along. He ran. He was just starting to feel the fingers of the darkness caress his neck. It was a chill like he had never experienced. Hints of rotten ecstasy. If he wasn’t sure that death would come of it, he would stop in a heartbeat. They ran their talons down his spine. They kissed his cheek. He shuddered and closed his eyes.
Imagine the most uncomfortable feeling. Anything that would make you want to curl up and die without a fight. This is what Joe’s world felt like. It took all of his strength, motivation, or moxie even, to keep his feet moving. One step after the other. Moving as fast as he could. Stumbling on trash and harsh pavement angles.
“Almost there. Just keep going.” She was amazed that he had gotten this far. She actually believed that he could make it all the way.
Then he tripped.
“Hey! Watch, watch where you’re goin,” said a drunk transient.
That was it. That was the last draw. That was the distraction he was looking for. He got up and ran, hobbled, on his tweaked ankle. As he cleared the corner of the building into the light he turned his head to se the shadows descend on the bum. He didn’t want to watch, but he couldn’t turn away. The shadows quickly dismembered the man, but to Joe it looked like they were taking their time. They carefully separated every appendage at the muscle lines that facilitated the cleanest separation. Pealing the skin off like a taxidermist trying to preserve the perfect catch.
It looked to him a little something like a food critic eating a chicken breast. Everything neat and in order. There was life everywhere. The crimson liquid covered everything for a ten foot radius. The shadows slowly, or quickly depending on perspective, lapped up all of the blood and parts. Feeling satisfied they retreated back into their hiding places. Ready for the next victim. Wanting their next meal. Waiting.
Later that evening Joe decided to sit down with the bricks. This was done in the comfort of his own home. Every light was on with a backup flashlight within arms reach at every moment. He wanted full illumination. He would go to sleep with the light on, something he hadn’t done since he was five years old and afraid of the boogie man. Now he knew there really were monsters out to get him. Whether they wanted him, or it was just circumstance in the alley, he was not sure. All he knew was that he would make himself harder to swallow even if that meant sacrificing some of his comfort.
“Ok, so tell me what is going on…”
The Amazing Janice and the Peculiar Mr. Abbot
1.
Their stories start quite a few years earlier than Joe’s. Janice and Mr. Abbot started life like any other people. Janice was the daughter of a transient and a prostitute. Her mom lived in a trailer park, while very white trash, was actually a decent place to grow up. The most dangerous part of the neighborhood happened to be her house. Her mom was not an evil lady, but she was very inattentive. Even though her parents were average at best, Janice had exceptional intelligence when she was born.
Throughout her pre-college life she did very well in school, even if she was bored with it. She was accepted one year early into a pre-law degree at Harvard. Her mom was too jealous that she had a daughter that made her look like a rock.
A few weeks before Janice’s departure upstate, her mom decided to throw a party. It looked like Janice would be praised for her achievements and finally accepted for who she was. Her mom had other plans. The party started and nobody showed up. No friends. No family. Nobody. Just before Janice was about to head off to bed some of her mom’s friends arrived.
These friends were from different areas of town, but they all had a few striking things in common. They were all dirty. None of them were what one would call “good” people. They were all former, or current, clients of her moms. They would all do anything to get laid. They were there for vastly different things than the food, drink, and well wishes.
“This is for your own good honey.” That was the last thing that she remembers her mom saying. Shortly after, Janice was being drug into her room.
Once in the room the six gentleman, assholes is better, decided to start having their own party. Janice became a punching bag. Her breasts made perfect speed bags. Her stomach became a decent heavy bag. Her face just something else to destroy. No matter how many bones were broken, they kept going. She started to bleed profusely from her nose and mouth. When blood needed to be spat she tried to land it on someone’s face, hair, or clothing. Only after she was curled on the ground, like a pile of wet towels, did the fun really begin.
Gasping for air. Tired. In pain. Ready and waiting to die. This was her world. One of pain and misery. Two of the men snatched her off the ground. She screamed in pain as they threw her on the bed. They didn’t need to tie her down, though they did have rope in case they needed it. They didn’t. She had not the energy or solid bones to fight back. They violently removed her clothes. She moaned.
“See guys, told you she wants it,” one of the men said.
The first of the train was the smallest, but the most violent. She screamed with every thrust. With every scream she was slapped, punched, or spit on. He went on for what seemed like an eternity. Those finished, or waiting their turns proceeded to abuse every inch of her body.
After the last one finished she was heaved out of the bed and into the hallway. Her mom wanted to see their progress. As she was flung into the living room one of the men slipped which sent her off of their intended course. She twisted as her foot caught on the kitchen cabinets. She landed, back down, on the cats water dish. The impact was below the first vertebrae. This caused instant loss of sensation and control below her waist. The damage was permanent and irreversible. She looked at her mother as she lay there dying. Her mom smiled and walked out. That was the last time they ever saw each other. Her mom died a week later after she accidentally walked in front of a moving bus on her way to work. Had the bus stopped a little quicker she would have lived as a cripple, but lucky for her mom the tire crushed her spinal cord and dislodged her skull.
The police were called from a neighbors phone. Everyone involved had vanished by the time the paramedics arrived. Janice’s mind blocked out the whole incident and since she couldn’t press charges, and they lacked leads, nobody was ever charged with her assault. Nobody knows what happened to her assailants, but many believe them to have died slow, miserable deaths.
Janice was in the hospital for a long stretch. After months of physical therapy she could use her arms consistently. Her legs were a losing battle. She could not feel, or move them in any way. They were dead to her.
A family contacted her while she was in the hospital. They had seen a news report that barely skimmed the surface of the atrocities she faced. They weren’t wealthy, but they wanted to help an any way they could. Her new family helped with everything they could. They found her a place to live, a job, and a life. When Janice was discharged from the hospital she stayed with her new family for a few weeks until she moved into a nice neighborhood downtown.
Janice’s life finally seemed to be on track once again. She had lost her scholarship after missing the first two semesters of school. It wasn’t an intentional act, but living seemed a little more important than making it to school. That and she hadn’t been discharged until right before semester three. Regardless of losing school, she was doing good. She had met a nice man in a similar situation. He wasn’t raped and beaten, but he was a smart guy who happened to be in a wheel chair from a snowboarding accident. They got along great. He ended up moving in with Janice after about six months of them seeing each other.
Two days later, while running late for work, Janice darted down the fabled alleyway. It was late and dark, but she had to be to work on time or she feared she might be fired. There were two deviants on the roof this particular evening. Had she been there the night before, or the night after, she would have rolled out victoriously. On this particular night the hooligans had grabbed one of the two brick that had been lying on the ground by the corner of the building.
From 30 stories up she seemed like a wheeled ant. Neither of the young men actually believed that they could hit her, they just wanted to scare Janice. They didn’t even know who she was, just that she happened to be there at the right, or wrong, time. The younger of the two took aim, was corrected by the older, and then dropped the red bomb. It streamed down. These two would have no idea how fast it was going, just that it looked really fast.
As the brick got closer to the ground, skipping stories at an ever increasing rate, both of them realized at once that it wasn’t going to miss her. There was no whistle like one would hear in an old world war II movie as the B-29 dropped the bombs. Just a deafening silence. All they could hear was the squish of her tires on the damp concrete/asphalt mix. All Janice could hear was nothing. She could hear death, but a the time didn’t understand what it really sounded like.
The brick made purchase with a satisfying, horrifying, life-ending sound. It knocked her clean out of her wheelchair. She lay curled on the floor. Her eyes glazed over. Blood leaking from her left ear, left eye socket, both nostrils, and mouth. The corner would say that she was DOA, or dead on arrival. The medical examiner would estimate that she had less than one second of consciousness after the impact. The medical examiner would almost be correct. Janice lay there for ten seconds, not able to focus on anything, and thoroughly confused as to what had just happened. She also wondered why her left eye felt so damp and sticky. As she faded to blackness her confusion faded with her life.
Two weeks later, after the mess had been cleaned up, the missing brick was reinserted into the wall. They missed a brick that was hiding further down on the ground, but Janice was firmly planted into the wall, which was better than having a front row seat for a viewing of the ground. At least this way she was able to see the passerby’s and wish them well in their journeys. She knew they could not hear them, but she hoped that God could and that he would save them from the same fate as hers.
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