Her voice cut through the darkness, and I awoke into a world of pain. I gazed about the room, my head throbbing. It felt like some obnoxious brat was jumping on the pedal of a bass drum somewhere deep inside my brain. I could’ve sworn that I’d heard someone talk to me. The cat was on my stomach, staring at me intently, the window shade had been knocked askew, and there was a hole the size of a watermelon in the window. The morning sunshine glared at me accusingly; I winced away from it. I would’ve remembered if I did that, wouldn’t I? After some debate I determined that the best course of action was to go back to sleep. My brain wouldn’t hurt so much if I was sleeping. I shouldn’t have let that bastard talk me into taking those little, blue pills. Last night got fuzzy after the pills. Fuzzier.
An instant before I nodded off the voice spoke again. “Hey, wake up!” it said irritably. I opened my eyes. The voice, it came from the cat. But that wasn’t possible, because cats don’t talk. It must’ve come from behind the cat. I leaned my head to the side to see past the cat. All I could see was the shape of my feet beneath the covers, the end of the bed, and the wall. I looked back at the cat.
“Yes,” she said, “it’s
me talking to you.”
“’The fuck?” I croaked. “But cats don’t talk.”
“They do now.” I looked at the walls. They weren’t doing anything strange. I was pretty sure I hadn’t taken anything that could cause hallucinations.
“’The hell is that ‘spose to mean?”
“It means what it means,” said my cat. “I just wanted to take the time to thank you for all the time you spent serving me before I left. Alas, now that I have magical powers I no longer require your servitude. Goodbye.” With that, she turned, jumped into the air, and flew out the hole in the window. I leaned forward suddenly so I could look out the window where I could see my cat slowly dwindling into the distance like a kid staring after a balloon that slipped his grip.
That’s when I noticed the mess on the street six stories below my apartment window. A massive, gaping crack ran down the center of the road. I couldn’t see the bottom; I wouldn’t have been very surprised if there wasn’t one from the way it looked. Steam and reddish light seemed to emanate from the crack. All the cars on the road had been abandoned and some teetered dangerously at the crack’s edge. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Apparently, I’d slept through the apocalypse.
I got out of bed and trudged to the bathroom. I went through the medicine cabinet for some aspirin, popped a couple, and chewed them up. When I went to wash them down no water came out of the faucet. I tried both knobs. Fortunately there was a conveniently placed can of open beer next to the sink. My stomach tied itself in knots at the thought of drinking any alcohol, but I tossed some back anyway. It was warm and flat.
With that taken care of, I crawled back into bed. If the world had ended, no one was going to mind if I slept in some more. Besides, my cat had just told me that she had developed magical powers and then flew out the hole in my window. I didn’t really want to have to think about that.
* * *
It was some time later when I woke to a deep, booming voice saying, “Wake up, human.”
I did. The rest of my window was gone, and a massive, pitch black shape perched on the sill. It had large, gleaming, ivory horns that were like a bull’s, bat-like wings, and bright red eyes that seemed to glow a bit.
“Dude, my window,” I complained stupidly.
“Ah, I am sorry about your window, human. I am known as Abrax the demon.”
“. . . Jeff.”
“Well met, Jeff,” said Abrax. He was a lot more polite than I figured a demon would be. “You, Jeff, are what is called a ‘ginger,’ no?”
“Huh?”
“I only ask because I was informed that the humans with the hair like the color red are a most delectable treat, and I would very much like to eat one.” Abrax’s tone remained perfectly polite.
“Well,” I said, stalling for time, “what you’re thinking of as a ginger isn’t actually a ginger. What you’re thinking of as a ginger is what we like to call a redhead. Because of the reddish hair and all.” Abrax seemed to be listening intently. I wondered if he was hungry. “Now, what a ginger is is a person who . . . has completely white skin with completely white hair and—”
“Isn’t that called ‘albino?’” asked Abrax. Shit.
“No, no, no, there was a mix up in what you heard. A ginger isn’t a person with red hair, it’s an albino with red eyes,” I said exuding false confidence.
Abrax brought one of his hands up to rub on his chin. I couldn’t help but notice the really long, black claws. “I see, I see,” he rumbled. He eyed me, “You are . . . not lying to me are you?”
“Nope.”
“I am sorry for disturbing you then, Jeff.”
“Not a problem.” Abrax dropped back from the window, spread his creepy wings, and flew off. He’d been surprisingly gullible. I sort of felt bad about siccing a demon on a hapless albino person, but I’d feel even worse if I got eaten as a delicacy. Besides albinos were pretty rare. Abrax would be occupied for a while.
I got out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. And then I was violently sick in the toilet. Yeah, I’d come
this close to being eaten alive, so I figured I had the right to throw up a bit. The toilet flushed, but it didn’t refill. I once again crawled back into bed and went to sleep.
* * *
It was some time later when I woke up to a voice that, if I had to describe it, I would say sounded like a snake somehow managing to speak English.
“You there,” it said, “human! Wake up, human! I need a moment of your time!”
It was the end of the fucking world and I couldn’t even get a decent day’s sleep.
Originally Posted by wacky_jam0902
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