Genesis

Knock, Knock. The End Is Here!

    The next thing I knew was that I was running. My hair was flying behind me, a long stream of strawberry-blonde, whipping in the gusts of wind that tried to push me back into his ravenous reach. My feet were numb for the split second they hit the asphalt ground, launching me forward, away from the man who was chasing me like a rabid hound.

     And to think that all it took to get me there was one text;

     Quinn,

     I'm going to have to cut this short. I have a holo-meeting soon. I need you to go into town and get some things for dinner. We have an important guest coming over and it is vital that everything goes well. Dress decently to greet our guest, then you can go upstairs to your room like always. The list is on the table, take some paper-bills from the safe.

     Regards,

     Evelyn Cortermaux.

     I had just gotten home from the last day of school, and then, with just one message, I was grabbing my things and heading back into the city, forgetting all about my plans to watch the forty-eighth season of my favorite TV show and abandoning my cup of strawberry-mint ice cream, a reward for graduating from the 11th grade today.

     And the message wasn't even from Evelyn. It was probably from her assistant, considering she was always busy... which was understandable. I mean, my aunt did have a company to run alongside her husband Tom. Cortermaux, one of the biggest corporations in the world for managing assets and finances.

     So there I was, walking through the aisles of Q-Mart, praying that they still accepted hard cash and wondering why my aunt's traditional values, specifically her frustrating insistence on face-to-face transactions, were getting me out here instead of ordering fresh ingredients on my phone from home. You know, like a regular person.

     That's when I heard it. A high pitched wail that echoed throughout the store. The blood in my veins turned to ice as I stood so still you might have mistaken me for a wax-statue; eyes wide, arms stiff. Alert. Listening for a clue as to what might have happened.

     The next thing I heard was crackling, accompanied by a continuous, unrhythmic banging noise. Another scream. Yelling. I placed my shopping basket gently on the ground and willed my feet to move forward, staying close to the edge of the aisle as I went to see what the frantic commotion was all about. A mother carrying her little daughter ran past me then, and just as my head went far enough to see around the shelves, I saw him. A man in around his mid-30s, banging furiously upon the big glass window in the front of the store, fixating a crazed bloodshot gaze on a nearby cashier. With each pound of his fist, the cracks in the glass grew larger and larger, the crackling noise becoming louder and closer, until-- he had broken the glass.

     A split second was all it took when he threw his whole body against the only thing separating him from us. The glass shattered in a splendor of shards, flying forward in all directions, as he landed face-first onto the glistening glass-covered floor. Before I could process what was happening, he had pushed himself up -- blood oozing from where bits of jagged glass were sticking out of his cheeks and torso -- as he charged towards an acne-covered cashier. The man launched himself upon him as he began hitting, scratching, clawing, pounding, and even ripping flesh with his scarlet-stained teeth. The cashier fell to the ground. It was then that I realized that the man was not alone. Now rushing into the store behind him was a gang of about a dozen people: men and women of varying ages -- and even a child -- dashed into the store, their eyes so bloodshot and widened with madness that they looked as if they were going to pop out of their sockets as they sprinted towards their next prey. 

     I didn't fully understand what was happening, but I didn't stay to find out. Before one of them spotted me, I ran, dashing aisle after aisle, my eyes darting all over as I tried to locate a way out of the store. I stumbled upon a door. Just as I was about to touch the handle I was suddenly yanked back, prickly sharp pains spreading across the back of my head. My head bobbed backward as I realized what was happening; someone had a hold on my hair. I didn't register the screaming squeak that came out of my own throat as I grabbed at the air, begging it to help me keep my balance as I tried to run.

     With every step forward I tried to take, the skin on my scalp burned, but the fear of being eaten alive was greater so I kept pushing. I panicked as I saw another crazed woman speeding towards me. My eyes widened further, and as another rush of adrenaline ran through my veins, I felt his grip on my hair slipping. I reached for the handle.

     The next thing I knew was that I was running. My hair was flying behind me, a long stream of strawberry-blonde, whipping in the gusts of wind that tried to push me back into his ravenous reach. My feet were numb for the split second they hit the asphalt ground, launching me forward, away from the man who was chasing me like a rabid hound.

     I was outside.