Chapter 2

However, Alan's voice and motionless body suggested that he was rejecting all logic and reality.

We sought to alter our lives and take control because we were dissatisfied with our destiny. We tried to go to places man was never intended to go, to see things man was never intended to see. Now that we have cursed ourselves, we are doomed to face our own worst nightmares and then vanish, leaving behind no trace of our existence. The only thing that will remain is a small, plain sign that reads, "Here be monsters." And the name of that monster is "Man."

That concludes it, Paul thought, He is a raving madman.

Paul straightened up and returned to the television-equipped table with a resigned sigh. Additionally, there was a pitiful first aid kit on the table that contained a thermometer, a packet of ibuprofen, a free trial tube of topical antibiotic, a cold pack, an elastic wrap, and some small adhesive bandages that were not suitable for more than the tiniest of cuts and scrapes. If Paul had been merely an observer of the absurd situation rather than a participant, it might have been almost laughable. Despite the fact that this was a medical research lab with some of the most cutting-edge medical and scientific equipment in the known universe, he could only use this pathetic first aid kit to try to help Alan in his precarious situation.

Paul turned to look out the lab room's observation window after grabbing the thermometer. An emergency light flickered in a hallway leading to the next room, briefly illuminating what appeared to be an empty room. He might be able to access one of the other labs and utilize actual equipment if he went out there with Alan along. They were just waiting for everything that was out there, someplace.

He knew he couldn't risk it after turning to look at his superior. Even if the other man was in a condition that allowed him to be moved, there were still dangers out there in the night, just waiting for him to leave the room where he was relatively safe. No, he was well aware that it was far too risky to attempt.

Instead, all he could do was sit back and watch his friend pass away. However, surely one of them is superior to the other?

Paul walked over to Alan and shaken his head demoralizedly in an effort to forget these thoughts. After turning on the thermometer and waiting for it to sound an acknowledgement, he stuck it in the mouth of the other man.

Alan's eyes rolled up, slightly opened, and he looked at Paul with an expression that was hard to read. They appeared to be completely dark, deep, and empty. The sight was terrible and haunting. Alan sank to the floor, slamming his head into the metal cabinet next to him and losing the thermometer in vain as they looked at each other for a while. After a loud crash to the ground, all that followed was silence.

Paul tried desperately to breathe again as he stood there motionless for what seemed like an eternity. Knowing full well what he was going to feel, he reached up and numbly felt the other man's neck.

Nothing.

He tried to stifle his tears by dropping his hand to his side. With a full breath, he steadied himself and turned around to the TV. He managed to stumble across the room and back onto the stool he had been sitting on just a few minutes earlier, but which now seemed like it had been years. He had never been a very remarkable smoker, or a consumer, yet he wound up needing a cool brew and a new cigarette more than whatever else on the planet at that point. It just seemed like the best thing for him to be doing in some way.

He only caught brief snippets of the news that kept coming at him. "Be warned that the danger is..." and "I repeat, do not attempt to leave-" are examples of the national guard's attempts to leave. He just couldn't bring himself to pay attention in some way. He was aware of the news: all gloomy, sad, and shocking. He murmured to himself, "What good is the news anyway, if you basically already know what it's going to say?" It was always nothing but heartache, misery, and decay; the narrative of the world and the human race over the past ten thousand years or whatever it is.

He reached over and turned the television off without even realizing he was doing it. He didn't know what to do now, but he felt like he needed to do something other than sit there in the dark and watch nothing but nothing. His mind's darkness was supernova-ed by a slew of ideas that suddenly came to life and vanished. It appeared that none of them were worth more than a millisecond's worth of amusement. It was almost as if he had shut down his brain, aware that it would never be of any use to him or anyone else.

He spun around when he heard a loud clattering behind him, just in time to be struck by a large, dark figure and thrown from his seat to the cold, hard ground. He cursed himself for not having known this was going to happen as the air left his lungs. As he tried to get closer, Alan made strange gurgling noises from above. The other man, on the other hand, was firmly ensconced in Paul's grip, and he was refusing to give way.

The animal that was Tyler Adam shook violently. It moved in a strange way, opening and closing its mouth like it was trying to chew through the air and rolling its eyes around in its head like it was looking at nothing and everything at once.

Paul intuitively knew that this was it.

The end was here.

Gabriel was beginning to worry that something terrible had happened.

It wasn't just that there was no internet. It wasn't even the fact that he had been without internet for almost two weeks; no matter how many times he tried to call the cable company, all he got was a busy signal. That alone was cause for concern, but the power had also gone out, and he was unable to contact the utility company. The fact that they couldn't have cut off his power or internet due to a lack of payment was something he knew with absolute certainty—or at least he bGabriel knew with absolute certainty. He had quite recently paid when these antics had started, so he ought not be in a difficult situation for basically one more two or three weeks, and afterward it most likely ought to have been one more little while after that before they cut off the power. He would obviously be unable to pay either bill with the internet turned off in this manner. Not that they deserved to be paid if they were going to treat a devoted customer this way. Well, mostly trustworthy. Basically, loyal.

His thoughts were interrupted by a rumbling in his stomach, which also served as a reminder that he was nearly depleted of food. He didn't want to risk opening the fridge or freezer with the power off because there were still a few frozen dinners and possibly some sandwich meat, cheese, and the remnants of a few condiment bottles in there. His former roommate had left him some boxes of Ramen noodles, but he had never been nearly hungry enough to eat them. He couldn't microwave them, which made it even more impossible. Along with a bag of tortillas that he had purchased at the beginning of the summer but had somehow never gotten around to eating, there were boxes of frighteningly old crackers and cereal that he didn't even remember getting in the cupboard. He had a fleeting thought that maybe he would stop being such a slob and actually throw some of this stuff away, but it was only a fleeting thought.

Overall, this meant that he probably would have to go to the store if the power didn't come back on in a few minutes. He closed his eyes tightly because he didn't want to think about it.

He might be able to just get some fast food. He only needed to be able to eat one or two meals before he could return to eating his frozen dinners, the old sandwich meat, and – if worse came to worse – the Ramen. The problem with the electricity would probably resolve itself at some point that night. Depending on how well he tolerates the Ramen, this could delay the need to visit the store for at least a few more days.

After the plan was finalized, he began to move around the room, feeling his excitement quickly rise. He could probably get that huge box of breakfast tacos from Nacho's Tacos. They were already wrapped in aluminum foil when he got them, so maybe he wouldn't even need to keep them in the fridge overnight to have one for breakfast and the other for dinner. They probably wouldn't keep very well, but at least they would probably be edible. He reassured himself that everything could work out, and he eagerly began changing into outdoor attire. This meant wearing pants that didn't have cartoon turtles fighting in karate on them and a t-shirt that wasn't from the 90s and didn't say something embarrassing like "If I slept penguins would peck my eyes out" on it.

Since he hadn't washed in over two weeks, the majority of his clothes were filthy, making the task difficult. Still, he was able to find the band Urinal Projections a decent pair of dark brown pants with a tiny hole in the back and a shirt that was only slightly overworn. Tough, if anyone disagreed with what his shirt said. Just a band name, really. It had no real significance.