The Caffeine System: Critical Heart Protocol

Chapter 4: Withdrawal in the Midst of the Apocalypse

“It hurts.” Raka suddenly complained.

The pain came like a sledgehammer. It started as a stabbing pain in her skull and then spread to a torturous throbbing as her heartbeat grew weaker.

Raka's body lay paralyzed on the warehouse floor, every muscle refusing to cooperate. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his vision blurred, transforming the pile of burlap sacks in the corner into hideous monsters.

“It… crashed …” he groaned hoarsely. “But… this is worse than anything.”

The vibrations from outside had stopped. He knew the sea of monsters was out there, silently roaming. He was trapped here. Dying from a condition that would normally only make him groan and search for a cup of coffee.

A blue panel flashed across his retina, blinking as if mocking his suffering.

[System Alert: Critical Blood Caffeine Level.] 

[Heart Rate (BPM): 55… 54… 53…] 

[Analysis: Host's cardiovascular system has been modified. Congratulations, your heart is now a high-performance internal combustion engine that uses caffeine as its fuel.]

Raka groaned. “Machine? What do you mean by that machine?”

[The simple explanation is this: Without a minimum caffeine intake, your engine shuts down. Your heart rate steadily drops to zero. Simply put, you will die a stupid death of heart failure while hiding in this smelly warehouse. What a completely uncinematic ending.]

“So… am I currently in withdrawal?” he asked breathlessly. “I need coffee to survive?”

[Exactly, Mr. Tempe. Your heart is now an addict. Give it what it wants, or it will stop working for you. The choice is yours.]

[BPM: 49… 48…]

The flashing red numbers in the corner of his vision were like a death sentence. Panic began to rise.

“I have to… move,” he whispered laboredly. “I… have to make coffee. Now.”

With all his remaining willpower, Raka tried to move his finger. A slight tremor. That was all.

“Come on, Raka… come on…” he hissed to himself.

He tried to focus his thoughts on one thing: reaching for the shelf above him, where he remembered to keep some of his remaining emergency supplies.

He gritted his teeth. The muscles in his arms tensed. Very slowly, his trembling hands lifted off the floor. It felt like lifting a block of concrete.

Outside the warehouse, in the main cafe area, he could hear movement. An unnaturally slow shuffling sound. One of them is inside.

[BPM: 46…]

“Damn,” he whispered.

There was no other choice. He continued his movements, this time slower and more careful. Every inch felt like a kilometer.

Finally, his fingertips touched the metal shelf legs. He pulled himself up, his body shaking with exertion. Dizziness struck, but he didn't stop.

He managed to grab a paper bag of cheap instant coffee powder. Next to it was a box of rock sugar and a small electric kettle.

'Water,' he thought. 'I need water.'

Raka remembered the gallon of drinking water near the door.

Crawling across the floor felt like crossing a sea of fire. Every movement made a sound. Every sound could be his last.

The Sleeper out there is moving again. The creature is on patrol.

Raka finally reached the water jug. Turning the tap on silently was a challenge. He turned it on with the slowest motion, letting the water trickle into the kettle.

Every drop of water that fell to the bottom of the kettle sounded like a drumbeat. Raka held his breath, listening for any reaction from outside. The creature stopped. Raka could feel it. He waited. Waited for Raka to make one more sound.

After a silence that felt like an eternity, the creature moved away from the warehouse door again. Raka let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

“It worked,” he whispered.

He managed to fill the kettle. Now came the riskiest part: he had to plug it into the wall. He crept to the wall, his hands trembling, struggling to get the plug into the socket.

Click.

The soft sound echoed inside the warehouse. Outside, the monster's footsteps stopped again. This time, they turned around and approached.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” Raka muttered.

He pressed the button on the kettle. The red indicator light flashed and a low, electric hum began. To Sleeper, however, the hum must have sounded like church bells.

Raka could hear a faint scratching sound on the warehouse door. The creature knew he was here.

[BPM: 42…]

“Please… faster…”

Amidst the tension, a new notification appears.

[Donation Received: 1 Viewer Point from User12345!] 

[User12345: Hurry up, I'm bored. Do you want to die or make coffee?]

Raka stared at the message with sudden anger. On the verge of death, his fear was replaced by hatred.

“Bored, you say?” he hissed into the air. “I wish you were here, you bastard!”

That anger gave him a little strength. The kettle finally made a clicking sound indicating the water had boiled. The sound made the monster outside claw even harder at the door.

Raka didn't care anymore. He then tore open the instant coffee packet with his teeth, poured it into an empty cup, and then poured in hot water.

The aroma of coffee filled the air. With a gasp, he lifted the hot cup to his lips. The liquid tasted bitter, rough, and slightly gritty. He downed it in one gulp, ignoring the blisters on his tongue.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a miracle happened.

A warm electric shock radiated from his stomach and spread throughout his veins. The pain in his head subsided, and the trembling in his hands ceased. Strength returned to his muscles. He could feel his heart beating faster and stronger.

[BPM: 70… 80… 95…] 

[Caffeine Levels Stable. Machine Back Online.]

Raka took a deep breath, feeling oxygen fill his lungs properly for the first time. He was safe.

BRAK!

The warehouse door shook violently. The monster began to break through.

Raka stood up. He wasn't going to die here. He grabbed the only weapon nearby: a small crowbar, the kind used to open wooden crates.

He stood in front of the door waiting.

“Come on,” he whispered. “I’ve had my coffee.”

The first morning of the apocalypse had arrived. Pale sunlight crept in through the small window above the warehouse. Raka decided not to stay in this cafe any longer.

He peeked out through the crack in the door. The sleeper had left, perhaps attracted by something else.

Carefully, he opened the door and stepped out into the messy cafe area. He walked to the front door with the crowbar gripped tightly in his hand.

Raka opened the glass door slightly, just enough to see what was outside. The street was empty, littered with nothing but rubble and gruesome organic remains he'd rather not identify.

“Did I see things correctly?”

Across the street, on top of a pile of crushed cars, stood a completely out-of-place creature.

A white swan. Its feathers were spotless. It stood on one leg, looking calm and graceful, as if enjoying the morning view in a park, not the midst of the apocalypse.

The goose turned his head, his small, pitch black eyes stared at Raka. The goose didn't seem afraid. He just stood there.

“That swan is the strangest anomaly in this crazy world,” Raka whispered in wonder.