"Here," Oliver picked up the bottle. "As I was.." he blinked out of existence midsentence, the ketchup bottle splashing into Liam's soup.
Behind him, a tray laden with burgers, drinks and fries crashed onto the floor. The entire canteen, chaotic from crashing plates and vanishing people.
"What the.." Emma ducked trying to avoid a flying pancake from the counter in front of her. The chef vanished while executing his famous pancake backflip.
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Ava closed her eyes and counted to ten. Slowly, she lifted her eyelids. Oliver was still missing. "Ok, Ollie, you can come out now. Joke's over. I don't know how you did it but it's not funny."
Liam gestured at the other tables. "It's no joke. Random people just disappeared."
"Are you sure it's random," asked Emma, putting her tray down. "Maybe it's... The Rapture. You know, where believers who are ready for Jesus Christ's return are caught up with him in the clouds to escape some horrors on earth or something?" Her face turned white. "We missed it!"
"Chill," assured Liam. "We're here. Hey the entire group from church is still there," he pointed at a rowdy group. "Maybe a handful are missing but most of the leaders are still there."
"Nah, you really believe that nonsense, Rapture and all?" Sneered Ava.
Emma shrugged and stared silently at her sad pancake-less breakfast plate.
-------
"Ooh, he's so dreamy," swooned Emma.
"He's my hunk," retorted Ava, starry eyed.
"He's quite a guy," Liam nodded approving.
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An impossibly good looking man was being interviewed by a swarm of adoring reporters. By ending the Arab Israeli conflict for good, he had achieved the impossible. "Just another day's work," he smiled oozing charm as he turned to face the audience. His soothing baritone voice mesmerized.
The screen flashed images of the man's achievements. Governments listened to him, taking his advice on healthcare, defence, monetary policy and basically anything of any importance. He was always spot on.
As the reporters thrust their microphones at the man, yelling out their questions, an assassin struck. A lightning swift blade struck his head drawing blood.
The man fell clutching his head. Blood bloomed from the wound onto the floor.
Medics onsite fussed over him staunching the blood as the world held its collective breath.
A medic held his wrist and announced, "no pulse."
In a flurry, someone held a device to his chest to shock him back to life but to no avail. After what seemed like.. forever, they covered his body with a black cloth. The man was pronounced dead.
Wails filled the room. A faint silvery light shimmered around the cloth covering the corpse, rapidly glowing brighter until the light was blinding. Suddenly, the dead man sat up.
Swiftly, the cloth was pulled away to reveal the man, fully healed. The wound on his head was completely gone.
"Who is like him?" Exclaimed a lady.
Something inhuman glinted momentarily in the man's eyes as he stroked his talisman, a silver dragon, with his thumb. Engraved on it were the numbers 666.
The man lifted his silver dragon, the source of his power.
The crowd erupted into rapturous applause, singing his praises, worshipping the dragon that empowered him.
He lifted his hand. The crowd hushed.
"Peace," he smiled with an eerie glow in his eyes.
The man, the beast, was unanimously elected by all governments as the king of the world. From that moment on, his word was law.
*******
Notes
Revelation 6:2 And I saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer.
