My Apocalypse Godhood Begins With A Gift

Snow buried Rex to his knees as he slammed his bruised fists against the steel security door. Ice fused his eyelashes together, blinding him to the blizzard ripping through the city streets. He could barely feel his fingers anymore. He had spent the last eight hours scavenging the ruined grocery store on Blackwell Street. He fought off three desperate men with a broken pipe just to secure a single box of protein bars. He brought the prize back to this door to save his wife.

"Lucy," Rex screamed, his voice cracking from the freezing air. "Open the door. I have the food."

The red light on the security camera blinked. The intercom crackled to life with a burst of static.

"Stop yelling, Rex," Lucy said. Her voice was crystal clear and completely devoid of warmth. "You are drawing attention to the apartment."

Rex leaned his forehead against the freezing metal. He shivered violently as the temperature dropped to negative forty degrees. The global ice age had started one month ago, transforming the world into a frozen graveyard. He had kept them alive for thirty brutal days. He gave her his daily rations. He gave her his only thermal blanket.

"Let me in," Rex said. "I am freezing out here. I got the supplies we need for the rest of the week."

"Keep them," Lucy replied. "We do not need your scraps anymore."

Rex blinked the ice from his eyes. He stared at the camera lens in absolute confusion. The wind howled behind him, threatening to push him into the deep snowbank. He could not comprehend her words.

"What are you talking about?" Rex asked. "We are out of food. I almost died getting this box."

A male voice laughed over the intercom. It was a deep, arrogant chuckle that made Rex's stomach twist into a tight knot.

"She told you to get lost, you broke loser," the man said. "Do you need me to spell it out for you?"

Rex froze. The chill creeping into his bones had nothing to do with the winter blizzard. He knew that voice. He recognized the smug, condescending tone.

"Who is in there with you?" Rex demanded, slamming his fist into the door again. "Lucy, who is that?"

"That is Chase," Lucy said flatly. "Chase Perry. He brought a portable generator and two crates of premium steaks from his private bunker. He has actual resources, Rex. What do you have? A crushed box of protein bars and frostbite."

Rex felt his chest tighten. He had spent the last three years working three separate jobs to support her and her wealthy family. He bought her designer clothes while he wore thrift store rags. When the world ended, he starved himself so she could eat.

"I kept you alive for a month," Rex wheezed, his breath forming thick white clouds. "I protected you from the looters."

"You delayed the inevitable," Lucy corrected him. "You are poor, Rex. You were poor before the ice came, and you are even more useless now. You cannot help us survive. Chase can. He has a stockpile secured at his Warehouse."

"You are throwing me out to die," Rex said. His voice was barely a whisper. The numbness was spreading up his legs.

"I am surviving," Lucy said. "And honestly, this is just easier. I have been seeing Chase for six months anyway. The apocalypse just gave us a convenient reason to stop hiding it."

The words struck Rex like a physical blow. Six months. She had been sleeping with another man while Rex worked night shifts to be a better husband. She had been laughing at him the entire time.

"You ungrateful traitor," Rex spat, his vision blurring.

"Die quietly, Rex," Chase said over the intercom. "Do not make a mess on our porch."

The intercom clicked off. The red light on the camera went dark.

Rex pounded on the door with his remaining strength. He screamed her name until his throat bled. Nobody answered him. The blizzard intensified, burying him under a thick layer of white frost. His legs finally gave out. He collapsed onto the frozen concrete porch. The cold seeped into his organs, slowing his heart to a crawl. He stared at the steel door as his vision faded to black. 

His last conscious thought was a vow of absolute vengeance.

Crash.

Porcelain shattered across the hardwood floor. Hot liquid splashed against Rex's ankles.

Rex gasped for air. He lunged forward, his hands grasping at empty space. He expected to feel the biting wind and the frozen snow. Instead, his palms slapped against a warm mahogany dining table. He blinked rapidly, his chest heaving as he dragged oxygen into his lungs. The freezing nightmare vanished entirely. The smell of roasted chicken and expensive perfume filled the air.

He was standing in the opulent dining room of the Clark family estate on Oakwood Drive. The crystal chandelier burned brightly above him. The temperature was perfectly controlled by the central heating system.

He looked down at his feet. A silver tray lay upside down on the Persian rug. The bowl of chicken soup he had been carrying was in pieces. Hot broth soaked into the expensive fabric.

"Are you deaf or just stupid?" a shrill voice demanded.

Rex turned his head. Mary Clark stood a few feet away. His mother-in-law wore a silk dressing gown and a deep scowl that highlighted the wrinkles around her eyes. She pointed a manicured finger at the mess on the floor.

Rex stared at her in silence. He looked at his own hands. They were warm and steady. There was no frostbite blackening his fingernails. He moved his fingers, feeling the smooth skin and the steady pulse in his wrists. He took a deep, shuddering breath. The air did not burn his lungs.

It was a dream.

The realization washed over him like a wave of relief. The apocalyptic ice age, the starvation, the freezing death outside the steel door. None of it had happened. It was just an incredibly vivid nightmare. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. He was alive. The world was still intact.

"Do not just stand there like a mute animal," Mary snapped, taking a step closer. "Look at what you did to my imported rug. You useless parasite. You cannot even carry a simple tray of food without causing a disaster."

Rex opened his eyes and looked at his mother-in-law. The relief began to fade, replaced by the familiar reality of his miserable existence. For three years, he had lived in this house as an unpaid servant. He married Lucy out of love, but her family treated him like a stray dog they were forced to tolerate. They mocked his background daily. They insulted his clothes. They made him cook and clean while they lived in pure luxury.

"I slipped," Rex said, his voice hoarse from the lingering memory of his own screams.

"You slipped," Mary mocked, crossing her arms. "You are a clumsy fool. My daughter could have married anyone in the city. She could have married into wealth and power. Instead, she chose a pathetic charity case who ruins my carpets."

Rex clenched his jaw. He was used to her relentless insults. He usually lowered his head and apologized to keep the fragile peace. He usually grabbed a rag and scrubbed the floor in silence. But the memory of the freezing cold still clung to his mind. The betrayal in Lucy's voice still echoed in his ears. The dream felt entirely too real to brush off.

"Get the mop," Mary ordered, pointing toward the kitchen doorway. "Clean this up immediately. We have a guest waiting in the living room, and I will not let your incompetence ruin our afternoon."

Rex did not move. He stared at the spilled soup. The steam rising from the hot broth reminded him of the white clouds of his own breath in the frozen wasteland.

"Did you hear me?" Mary shouted. She stepped forward and shoved him hard in the shoulder. "Move."

Rex stepped back to keep his balance. He turned his head toward the arched doorway leading into the grand living room. He intended to walk to the kitchen and grab the mop just to end the shouting match.

He froze in his tracks.

A man sat on the white leather sofa in the living room. He wore a tailored suit and held a porcelain teacup in his right hand. He had styled blond hair and a silver watch gleaming on his wrist. The man was smiling at the commotion in the dining room, thoroughly enjoying the sight of Rex being humiliated by his mother-in-law.

Rex felt the blood drain from his face. His heart slammed against his ribs.

It was Chase Perry.

The exact same man from the dream. The man who had mocked him over the intercom. The man who had been sleeping with his wife for six months.

"Ah, do not be too hard on him, Mrs. Clark," Chase called out from the sofa. His voice was smooth and dripping with condescension. The deep, arrogant tone was identical to the voice that had laughed at him through the static of the security camera. "Good help is hard to find these days. Even if they are a bit clumsy."

Mary's face softened instantly. She turned toward the living room and gave Chase a warm, fawning smile.

"You are too kind, Chase," Mary said sweetly. "But you must not indulge him. He needs to learn his place in this house."

Rex could not hear the rest of her words. A high pitched ringing filled his ears. His eyes locked onto Chase. The smug grin. The relaxed posture. The presence of this specific man in his house at this exact moment shattered all logic. How could he dream of a man he had never met, only to wake up and see him sitting in his living room?

Footsteps echoed from the stairs. Lucy walked down the grand staircase and entered the living room. She wore a tight red dress and a flawless layer of makeup. She did not even glance at Rex standing in the dining room. She walked straight to the sofa and sat down right next to Chase. She leaned in close, intentionally letting her shoulder brush against his suit jacket. They exchanged a subtle, familiar look.

It was the look of two people who shared a dirty secret.

The puzzle pieces slammed together in Rex's mind. The dream, the apocalypse, the six month affair, the betrayal was real, are they all real?

Is the Ice Age really coming?

Rex stared at his wife. He had spent three years breaking his back to make her happy. He had accepted the daily humiliation from her mother just to stay by her side. And she was sitting right there, brazenly flirting with another man in his own home.

A cold anger ignited in his chest. It burned away the lingering fear of the freezing cold. It burned away three years of submission and blind obedience. He was not going to be their slave anymore. He was not going to die frozen on a concrete porch while they ate premium steaks inside a warm bunker.

He stood up straight. He looked at Mary, then at Lucy, and finally locked his gaze on Chase.

Before anyone could say another word, a sharp mechanical chime echoed in Rex's mind. The sound was distinct and highly artificial.

A translucent blue screen materialized in the air directly in front of his face. The glowing text hung in the empty space between him and the spilled soup. He blinked, but the words did not disappear. They hovered steadily, casting a faint azure light that only he could see.

[Welcome Administrator.]

[Countdown to Apocalypse: 30 days.]

[Note: Prepare.]