The fresh morning sun filtering through her curtains casts a prism of colors across the thick, cotton bedspread. She absentmindedly watches it dance across her toes while she waits for the charming, jazzy alarm tone to inform her it’s time to get up. Normally, she steals every last second of snoozing but today the eerie silence of their large family home tugged her from her dreams; over the last 17 years, her lullaby has been the racket of three sisters and a big brother, not to mention the loving sounds of her parents yelling for organization that will never happen. A house this full at breakfast time is never quiet, but today there isn’t a peep. No shouting to get ready for school, or clanging of breakfast being made. The normally full scent of caffeine is absent, making it even harder to drag her butt out of the enveloping sheets. The alarm begins to shrill and she catches it after the first round of dinging tones, the screen flashing a jarring red ‘9:30 AM”. With a heavy sigh, she tosses her legs off the edge of the bed and stands, the dark stained hardwood cool on the balls of her feet. Tossing on her old, worn housecoat, she pads down the hall and peeks over the railing into the kitchen. Nothing. Even the leftover dishes from her midnight raid are still sitting in the sink, which is especially unusual. She scoffs, muttering to no one in particular.
“Yea, sure, THAT is the unusual part.” She glances around again, concern beginning to set in.
“Where the hell is everyone?” She turns back down the hallway towards her parents’ room. “Mom?” She calls softly as she grasps the handle and turns, pressing the door open just a sliver.
“Dad? Are you up?” She laughs nervously. “I haven’t been the first one awake since I was in diapers!” Waiting a few moments for even a grunt of acknowledgement, she pushes the door open wide. She heaves sigh of relief when she spots the two lumps beneath the blanket; taking a few steps forward, she pays close attention to the rise and fall of their chests.
“Mom? Psssst. Mom! It’s time to wake up.”
At the side of the bed now, her brows furrow. She reaches out and grasps her mother by the shoulder, shaking her gently.
“Mooooom, I’ll put the coffee on if you open your eyes…” Her mother never says no to coffee, especially coffee she doesn’t have to make herself. Still no answer, not even a hitch in her breathing.
“Mom!” She’s louder now, her voice cracking. “Dad?” She climbs across the bed, reaching over the sleeping form of her mother to grasp him tightly by the shoulder. Nothing. She jumps off the bed and runs to her brothers room, half expecting him to be sitting up on his bed reading another one of his comics, ready for the sound of his hysterical shouting for her to get out. Except, he’s still sleeping too. One by one, she goes into the rooms of each of her siblings and tries to wake them. She even tries to lift Karen, the third youngest and lightest sleeper, to a sitting position, shouting into her ear.
“KAREN! Karen please, wake UP! This isn’t funny anymore!!” Tears start to sneak their way down her cheeks and she hastily wipes them away. No one has seen her cry for years, and she’s not going to let this ridiculous family prank be the reason that changes. A voice pops up from the darker corners of her mind, startling her.
“They’re not playing a game, Sarah. Come on, you know this already. Go outside and find help.” It sounds like it’s coming from outside of herself, but that has got to be a trick of the mind. She shakes her head, successfully removing the annoyingly logical voice. The annoying voice that is probably right.
“Fuck!” She shouts at the walls, angrily stomping down her stairs and ignoring the terror gripping her chest. Instead of checking outside like the little voice told her to, she picks up the cordless house phone and dials 911 while digging through her mother’s secret stash of cigarettes.
“What are you doing?” The voice asks curiously, appearing out of nowhere.
“I’m stealing a smoke, is that a problem?” The sarcasm in her tone is sharp. “It’s not like she’s going to notice anyways. She won’t wake up, none of them will.” She halts, realizing she’s talking out loud to no one as the phone against her ear rings and rings, finding no one on the other end. She hangs up, firmly pressing the button to be sure it’s off and redials.
“9-1-1.” She hits each button with care and sends the call out once more.
“Must be a busy morning” she mutters under her breath, placing a cigarette between her lips; she grabs a lighter and steps outside, phone tucked between her shoulder and ear. Cupping her hand, she levels the flame against the tip and inhales deeply, nicotine coursing through her blood, slowing her panicked breathing. A click on the other end of the phone makes her heart leap.
“Hello? Hello?! I need an ambulance. No one in my family will wake up, there’s six of them.” She says frantically even though she can’t hear a sound on the other end. “Is anyone there?”
A woman’s automated, sing-song voice clicks on, removes the momentary pulse of hope.
“Thank you for calling 9-1-1. We are experiencing a higher than normal call volume, please try again later.”
She lets out a screech of frustration, discarding the phone onto the cushions of the porch swing next to her.
“Look around you, Sarah.” That voice again, deep and terrifying.
“Who the FUCK are you and WHY is my inner voice a ma-” She trails off as her eyes take in their usually busy street. No papers left out for the older folks, no cars zooming down the block; the only sound the howl of the neighborhood dogs as they scratch the front door of their respective homes to be let out. She shakes her head violently, as if she can make people appear if she shakes it hard enough.
“No. Nope. No, this isn’t happening. This cannot be happening.” She takes a long drag off of the smoke and starts to pace, dialing every single number she can recall of businesses and friends alike. Each unanswered ring makes her heart sink lower, each number ending in another average answering machine.
“No one else is awake, no one but you.” The voice whispers in her ear causing her to twirl around, finding no one but the fake potted flowers laid out on the railing. Her mother never had a green thumb but loved the bright colors, hence the fake peonies and lilies scattered throughout the dirt. She butts out her half smoked cigarette inside the closest pot and heads back inside, flipping the switch on the coffee machine as she strides into the adjoining living room. Grabbing the laptop and remote from the couch, she flips the television to life just to see if there is any activity on there. Nada. Just reruns of old TV shows and bad infomercials.
She turns around and walks right back into the kitchen as the aroma of percolating coffee reminds her that no problem can’t be solved with a cup of fresh caffeine. Thank god her parents are in the habit of setting up the maker the night before. She plops herself down at the island, pulling the pot of still dripping coffee from its canister. Taking a cup off its hook from the lazy Susan of coffee mugs, she pours herself a large, steaming cup of black coffee and brings it to her lips.
“Okay.” She says matter of factly. “There will definitely be something online about what is going on here. Definitely.” She flips open the laptop and powers it on as the voice appears again.
“I’m sorry.”
She frowns. “Wha?” She says aloud, realizing the utter ridiculousness of her inner consciousness apologizing to herself.
“Nothing, nothing. Ignore me, I’m not making sense.” The sound is grating, almost hurting her ears.
She stands abruptly, the realization that this voice may not be hers finally dawning on her. Her mind racing, she makes a snap decision: ignore it. She’s gotten amazing at ignoring the bad things that happen around her, so she just has to stop responding, then it’ll slowly disappear. That’s what they say about schizophrenia patients’ right?
“Not quite, schizophrenia is usually quieted by drugs. However, you are not hearing voices in your head, so you don’t need those anyway.” She opens her mouth to respond and immediately clamps it shut. Nope, she already said she’d stop responding. Let that weird voice keep talking to itself. She has things to do, people to wake up. A very, very rumbling stomach that needs attention. Ignoring the pangs of hunger, she sits down again and fires up the Facebook app.
“Please, please, please…” she begs, but not one little green dot. Checking a few of her friends and even some strangers ‘active’ times, every last one was 9 or 10 hours ago. Tears start rolling down her cheeks again, but this time she doesn’t stop them. Fear and pain double her over, ripping through her like a hurricane as she gasps for air.
“You should eat. You’ll need your strength.”
Fucking subconscious. Always trying to survive even when there wasn’t any reason to anymore. “Please?” It added. Polite, at least. She swivels around and leans, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket on the counter. Facing around back to the laptop, she waves it in the air half-heartedly. “There, happy now?” A look of annoyance crosses her disconcertingly gentle face.
“Well, I suppose, though shouldn’t you eat something a little…heartier? Like an actual breakfast?”
She grunts. “I can’t cook worth shit.” Her teeth crunch through the tough apple skin, her left brow raised high. “But shouldn’t you know that? You are my subconscious for Christ sake.”
The voice chuckles deep and raspy, causing her to start. “Hmm…sure, your subconscious. Let’s go with that.”
She sits up straight, her lips part ready to question it when a ting rings out from the computer, capturing her attention. She leans forward, flicking the cursor towards the bubble of text on the screen. Tumblr, one new post today – worldwide. A single text-post, three simple words.
‘Anyone else awake?’
Her heart leaps into her chest, her cheeks twitching as a laugh bubbles from within her. Three comments, posted five minutes ago.
“Thank GOD!” She yells, giddiness coursing through her. Clicking on the comments section, she eagerly devours the words, bright and clear against the blue background.
> I woke up an hour ago and I’ve checked everywhere. No one else is awake. Please, God, tell me someone else is out there.
> What the hell is going on? I woke up, same thing. Is this some fucked up government experiment gone wrong or something?
> I don’t know, but I’m freaking out. Where are you from?
She excitedly starts tapping out a response, a strange nervousness coming over her. Why her? Why them? What are they supposed to do?
“Don’t worry child. You’ll find out soon enough.”
She shrieks, jumping off her chair. It felt like he was RIGHT behind her, leaning over her and breathing in her ear. A tremble of fear within her, she shakes it off. Shakes HIM off, whatever that fucking voice is. Right now, she’s got real human beings to talk to, and maybe even a chance to save her family. She finishes her posts and hits enter, rapping her fingers against the counter nervously.
> I’m awake too. I feel like I’m going crazy, and I have never been more relieved than when I saw your post. I live in Chicago. What about you two?
A response from both are quick, and it’s a relief. She inhales deeply, feeling hope for the first time since she opened her eyes this morning.
> No shit. Born and raised in Chicago myself, never left. We should meet, figure out what the fuck is happening.
> Me…three, I guess. I don’t know whether to be excited or even more scared. How is it that all three of us are from the same place? I agree, I need to see a human being. Meet at Montrose beach?
Tears begin to stream down her face for a third time in one day, but this time they’re tears of pure joy. She pumps out a quick and resounding “YES!!” and runs upstairs to throw on a pair of jeans and a plain white tee, a thin grey cotton sweater layered over top. Trotting back down to the first floor, she takes a final glance at the screen.
> Okay. Let’s do this. See you both there in 20.
She spins towards the door and stops short. Smart idea to bring the laptop, you never know what information they’re going to need. She quickly packs it together, tossing some snacks into a grocery bag for the road as an added touch. She bounds towards the door, grabbing her father’s car keys from the hooks as she clicks open the lock and shuts the door behind her with a bang. Locking the door, she climbs into daddies’ favorite ride – A 1979 corvette, his pride and joy. He loved this thing more than he loved her, and today it was all hers. Might as well have fun while the rest of the world sleeps, right? A booming laugh spills from the empty passenger’s seat and she swears, loudly.
“Being a bad girl today, I see. Good, You’ll need that for later.”
“Jesus Christ. You’re so damn ominous it’s starting to freak me out. Just….stop, okay? Today is not the day I go crazy so if the voice in my head could just maybe pick a different day to torment me, that would be fantastic.” Bitter sarcasm spits from her teeth, a petrifying fear covered by years of practice. She can’t even seem to think the thoughts she wants to think, this…this thing knows everything. She sharpens, expecting another laugh but receiving silence in its place. She relaxes, just a little, and turns the key, the engine roaring to life. She pulls from the driveway and takes a left, the quick way to her favorite spot in the city. The houses zip past, the lack of traffic making a usual 15 minute drive cut to less than 7. She pulls into the lot and climbs out of the car, leaving the laptop and food on the backseat. She wraps her sweater around her tightly, the cool fall breeze sifting through the thin fabric as if it didn’t exist and trots to the beach, looking around with bright, wide eyes. No one yet. She checks her watch – 10 minutes have already passed so in no time she’ll be looking at a real human being. Two of them, for that matter. Excitement begins to build within her and she shifts her weight from foot to foot, eyes darting across the sand searching for movement.
Suddenly, a shout from her left reaches across the expanse of water and she turns towards the sound, spotting the blurry shape of a man jogging in her direction. Her head falls back and she lets out a loud whooping laugh. She’s not alone anymore! The shape gets closer, forming into a young man, maybe 5 years older than she. Short, dark hair adorns the top of his head and a few days of stubble are shaded across his jaw, bringing a warmth to his deep brown eyes. He runs right up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifts her off her feet, spinning in an elated circle.
“God, I never thought I’d be so happy to see another human being!” His voice cracks with emotion and she doesn’t say a word, simply wrapping her arms around the strangers’ neck and letting herself swim in the waves of joy crashing over them both. They’re soon joined by another set of arms, connected to a woman that looks to be in her early 40’s with beautiful blue eyes set in a face that once was young and smooth. The years of living have taken their toll; exhausted lines crisscross her face like a canvas, a small tired smile set on her lips. The three strangers hold each other for a while, enjoying the fleeting sense of the world being small and safe again. Finally, they separate and the young man is the first to introduce himself.
“I’m Adam. It’s so good to meet you both.”
The older woman firmly grasps his outstretched hand. “Lisa, my name is Lisa. You two look young enough to be my children!” She laughs a bright, clear laugh and Sarah waves a teeny wave, suddenly nervous again.
“Sarah,” she grins. “It’s good to meet you both too.” She nods towards the empty parking lot. “So, anyone got any theories as to what’s going on here?”
Fifteen minutes of reprieve from The Voice is apparently all she gets, his booming cackle spinning around her like a hawk circles its prey. Fortunately for her, ignoring things is her specialty. Even though it’s clearly trying to get her to startle, she’s not going to give it the satisfaction. Adam kicks the sand, shoving his hands deep inside of his jean pockets.
“I don’t know, and I don’t even know where to start.” Lisa rubs his shoulder gently, clearly the gesture of an experienced mother.
“Listen, I own a cafe just down the block from here. Let’s go have some coffee, I’ll make us some breakfast and we’ll get this figured out.” She pivots in the sand, gesturing for them to follow.
Sarah’s steps pick up behind her. “Let me stop at my car, I brought my laptop with me. Maybe there’ll be something online?”
After a short walk, they arrive at the cafe. Once inside, Lisa flicks the nearest switch, making the dull overhead lights flicker to life while Sarah set up in one of the booths close to the kitchen. Adam wanders slowly around the room, admiring the art decorating the brightly colored walls as the smell of roasting coffee fills the space.
“You know, I’m not a religious man but this is definitely starting to feel some kind of apocalyptic.” He gently runs a finger along a large oil painting of demons and angels fighting for the Ultimate Win. “Should we be expecting zombies to start banging on the doors to eat our brains?”
Sarah is hunched over the laptop furiously scrolling away. “Are you suggesting this is a zombie apocalypse or a religious apocalypse?” She asks, distracted.
“Hmm…” Adam pauses, his expression thoughtful. “How about a religious zombie apocalypse?” His face breaks into a grin.
Lisa shouts from the kitchen over the sound of banging and frying. “Does this mean that we’re going to be seeing zombies with crucifixes trying to convert us to Christianity to save our souls before eating our brains?”
Sarah and Adam look at each other and then burst into laughter that carries itself, building into hysterics as Adam mimics a religious zombie, holding his necklace out from his chest and groaning “brain is the body of Christ. Repent before your souls become breakfast!”
Sarah stands, playfully shoving Adam as she follows the signs for the bathroom. Pushing open the swinging door, she heads for the sink and turns on the tap, bending to splash cool water on her face.
“You know, I’ve heard some really interesting theories, but that Christian zombie one has got to be the most creative.” The voice appears from within the mirror in front of her, causing her to splash water all over the floor and cabinets.
“Okay, fuck it.” She throws her arms in the air. “Will you stop playing games and just tell me what the hell is going on? This isn’t fun.”
“Patience, Sarah. Not long now….” He responds with a playful inflection, drawing a frustrated grunt from within her. “Sure, whatever Victor. Whatever.”
“Oooh, Victor. I like!” The body-less voice follows her out of the bathroom, all the way to the booth where she sits with a huff.
“Victor means ‘frightening’ in Hindi. Don’t flatter yourself.” She says aloud before realizing it, taking another large sip of coffee. Her eyes trained on the screen, she doesn’t notice the strange look crossing between Adam and Lisa.
“But that IS flattering, my dear. If only you knew…”
She rolls her eyes and types the first thing that comes to mind into the google search bar. It takes a few tries and some particular wording, but their patience pays off.
“Aha!” Sarah shouts as Lisa plops a steaming plate of bacon and eggs with hash browns and toast in front of her, the scent wafting up and causing all three of their stomachs to rumble.
Adam slides into the booth across from her, shoveling a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. “Whatcha find?”
“Well, it looks like this happened before. Except no one believed her, which I guess makes sense, because I wouldn’t either unless I was living it.” She squints at the text. “It says here that in October of 2000, a young girl woke up and the rest of the world stayed sleeping. She ended up finding someone else, kind of like we did, and they both started hearing voices.” At this, she glances up to find both of their eyes wide. “The voices were different, and they gave them an…Ultimatum, or something. It doesn’t say what, just that they we’re both given a choice, but they didn’t know what it would be until the moment came. She didn’t know what was going to happen after she made hers, and she wanted to record everything just in case she didn’t make it.” Her voice drops, dissuaded.
“That…is pretty much all there is. Nothing was ever posted by her again.”
Adam leans forward, intrigued. “Okay, wait. Does it say what her real name is? What are the comments?” Lisa had made herself comfortable in the spot next to Sarah and she peeks over her shoulder at the screen.
“Looks like most people thought she was crazy, others thought it was an awesome story and she should enter it into a contest…Wait, what’s that?” She taps a fingernail to the screen, at the very last comment. “The last one, right there.”
“I’m sorry, Alice. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’ll make it up to you somehow, I promise..” Sarah reads it out loud, more confusion setting in. “What does that mean, “couldn’t save you’?”
“I don’t know, maybe we could ask him?” Lisa asks around a bite of her toast. Sarah clicks on his name and sighs with disappointment. “Nope, look at his page. All R.I.P’s, looks like he died. Suicide, apparently.” She checks the dates of the posts. “Actually, he killed himself a week to the day after he commented on her post. What the-?”
“Really?!” Both respond in sync, this intriguing Adam enough that he actually puts his fork down and moves behind Sarah, staring at the screen over her other shoulder. “That is fucked up….” Adam mutters under his breath.
“You can say that again. So much for finding an answer.” Sarah leans back against the booth, crossing her arms in frustration.
“Hold on now,” Lisa chimes in. “We’re not hopeless yet. Let me see that…” She slides the laptop so it’s resting in front of her. “Look, here. Found the full name of that girl. Alice Sawyer was her name. Why don’t we find out what happened to her?”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Adam queries, causing Lisa to look at him incredulously.
“I’m the oldest one here. Aren’t the older people supposed to be the ones who don’t know how to google?” A blush creeps across his cheeks and he casts his eyes down.
“We can find her death certificate, and maybe even some info on who she was.” Lisa continues without missing a beat, her fingers tapping purposefully on the keyboard. Adam sits back down dejected, and Sarah takes the opportunity to fill her stomach, finally feeling as if they’re getting somewhere.
“Hold on a second….this is weird. Really weird.” Her puzzled look catches their attention. “She…doesn’t exist. Literally doesn’t exist. That post is the only proof that this girl ever lived. No death certificate, no birth certificate, no news reports, nothing. Not even a Facebook like.” Lisa sits back, speechless. “This is literally impossible.”
Adam is the first to speak. “Okay, hold on. Back up a second, didn’t that post she made mention voices? Maybe that has something to do with it.”
“Why?” Sarah looks at him, tilting her head. “Are you hearing voices?”
Adam clears his throat, suddenly parched. He takes a long swig of his creamy coffee. “Eerm, well, not voices…more like…voice? Singular?”
Sarah’s eyes go wide. “Really?! Oh thank god. At first I thought it was just my subconscious but the longer times gone on the less sure I am about anything.”
Lisa stares at them both. “I have, too. I legitimately thought I was losing my mind. I wake up, no one else will open their eyes, and suddenly I’m hearing some crazy voice in my head.” She laughs, and Adam looks back at Sarah. “That makes sense. THAT’S who you were talking to earlier, the one you called Victor.”
“Yeah.” She says heavily. “I got tired of calling him “the voice” so I decided to give him a name.” She reaches into the laptop bag and pulls out the pack of cigarettes. “If you don’t mind, this is all getting to be a lot. I’m just gonna step outside, I’ll be back in a minute or two.”
They nod, Adam taking her spot next to Lisa as the door chimes with her exit into the afternoon sun. She flicks the lighter to life and breathes in deep, hoping that the nicotine will slow her mind enough that she’ll be able to make sense of her own thoughts.
“Victor?” She says tentatively.
“Yes my dear?” His response is quick, as if he’s standing right in front of her.
“What happened to that girl?”
She hears his chest heave, his voice coming from the ground now as if he’s slid down the side of the building into a sitting position. “She made the wrong choice. She was my favorite, you know. I tried to convince her to do the right thing but she just….couldn’t. I got into a LOT of trouble by helping her…”
She hears sadness in his voice, real, true sadness slipping through the cracks of his terrifying demeanor. She takes another puff, contemplating what he said. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, she finally gets up the nerve to ask the question that’s been plaguing her since they first read Alice’s final post.
“What is my choice going to be?”
She feels a hand on her shoulder and Victor in her ear again. “I can’t tell you that, it’s against the rules.” A shudder runs through her like a warning and she stomps out her smoke, heading back inside to the warmth of the cafe.
Lisa and Adam are huddled around the computer, a fresh pot of coffee just brewed. Sarah grabs the pot and gives each of them a refill without asking.
“Thanks”. Adam looks up from his seated position as she tops him up, their eyes meeting. “We found some more information, but you might want to sit down for this.”
She plops down in the seat across from them, her hands gripping the warm cup of coffee. “You found proof of the Christian zombies, didn’t you?” Her tone sprinkled with sarcasm, she elicits a grim smile from her two new friends.
“Uh oh.” Sarah grimaces. “This isn’t going to be good.”
“Honestly, I’d rather Christian Zombies than this shit…” Adam slides the laptop around to face her, opened to a page of ancient mythology with detailed photos of dismemberment, torture and repentance.
“Wow.” Victor says from the empty space next to her. “The internet sure has grown, hasn’t it?”
Sarah glances at the space, getting used to talking to a body-less voice. “Is this real, Victor? Is this what we’re facing?” For the first time, he doesn’t have a retort. She looks around at the two. “How about you, do your little friends have any words of wisdom on this?”
Adam and Lisa shake their heads.
“Nope. Mine mostly just says creepy, ominous things and laughs like a hyena.” Lisa tucks a fallen strand of blonde hair behind her ear and curves her body so she can see the screen.
“See, here? It talks about the voices. Apparently they’re from the depths of hell; our ‘handlers’ come to take us back.”
Shock crosses Sarah’s face. “Excuse me? BACK to hell? Handlers? The hell does that mean?”
Adam jerks to his feet, twitching with nervousness. “That fuckin’ voice just told me it can’t wait until it can play with me again. Is this for real?”
“Kid, we’re literally the only ones awake in the entire world. Are you really that surprised?” Lisa places her elbow on the table, chin resting in her palm. “I mean, at this point anything is possible.”
Sarah is unusually quiet, her eyes skimming the text as quickly as she can devour it. “It says here that certain souls, depending on the crimes in their previous lives, can be given a second chance to be sent up to heaven.”
Lisa perks up. “Does it say how?”
“Unfortunately no, that’s pretty much all the information it gives. Besides, do we really believe this? Heaven, hell, second chances? What does that make us? Come on, this is starting to sound like a really bad acid trip.”
Adam starts to pace, his hands clasped behind his back tightly. “Okay okay okay. I don’t believe it either but hypothetically speaking, if it was, what could we do?”
Sarah stops reading as a thought clicks in her brain.
“Make the right choice, I suppose?” Adam stops and looks at her with intrigue.
“Look. That girl, her post was talking about a choice right? And Victo-” She’s suddenly cut short by what feels like a hand over her mouth.
“Don’t say another word, little girl.” Her brows pinch together in fear. “The other handlers, they’ll get me in big trouble if they find out I’ve been giving you hints again. Keep your mouth shut, understand?”
She nods imperceptibly, and the grip over her lips recedes.
“Everything okay?” Adam’s looking at her with concern and she brushes it off with a little smile.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just had to finish the thought before it came out of my mouth.”
Lisa chimes in. “So, you were saying about Victor?”
Sarah hesitates, trying to come up with something that would make sense without getting him in trouble. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wonders why she’s protecting him, but she files it away for later when she has more time to think.
“I was going to say, Victor keeps teasing me with that post as if I’m going to end up disappearing too.” She hopes the lie is good enough that they believe her, and from the impressed grunt coming from the empty seat it sounds like she was successful.
“So what, we’re supposed to just sit here and wait? Wait for what?” Lisa is starting to get agitated, her fingers twirling a napkin until it’s shredded. “This is such bullshi-” She stands abruptly, body pointing towards the door to the kitchen like a hunting dogs signaling to its owner. “Did you hear that?”
Adam and Sarah look at her and shake their heads. “Nope, nothing. What did you hear?”
“My….my name…” Her voice is distant, her eyes locked as if she cannot see anything else but what is beyond the door. She takes a small, heavy step, and then another, and another, until she’s standing stone still at the door to the kitchen. “I swear…I…” She pushes the door open, as Sarah and Adam exchange a worried look.
“Lisa? What’s going on?” Sarah calls, but no answer. A few seconds of silence and then a piercing scream echoes through the shop causing them both to leap to their feet and scramble to the back. They barge through the doors, Lisa nowhere to be found. The only thing left behind is a few streaks of blood that stops in the middle of the floor and a few pots and pans littered on the ground.
“Lisa! Lisa where the hell are you?!” Adam calls, hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone.
“She’s gone.” Victors defeated voice comes from beside her. “She’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s GONE? Gone where?!” Sarah shouts, not caring if she gets him in trouble.
“Where do you think?” Adams quiet voice breaks the silence. “That website did say ‘take us back to hell’.”
“You don’t actually believe that, do you?!” Sarah barks angrily as she rips the kitchen apart, calling out for Lisa.
“Yesterday was my brother’s wedding. Today, no one else but us is awake and functioning and I don’t know if I’ll ever see my family again. I don’t know what to believe anymore.” He trails off, tears forming behind his eyelashes. She stops rummaging through the cupboards and turns to face him.
“I’m scared too, you know.”
He kicks at the floor. “I know. Let’s not leave each other alone again, okay?”
“Deal.” She tries to smile but it falls flat. One down, two to go. Wonder who’s next? The thought sends a cool chill through her body and she tugs her sweater around her like armor, as if it’ll protect her from whatever is coming.
“So…what the hell do we do now?” She asks weakly as the sun starts to set behind the reinforced windows.
“Wait, I guess…” They slowly head back into the main area to their booth, now foreign and cold without their companion. They sit side by side and lean into one another, no words needing to be exchanged. The events of the day have exhausted her, and even though she fights it, sleep finally wraps itself around her and pulls her into its depths. A few hours later, a voice streams into her dreamland.
“It’s time, Sarah.” Breaking her out of her sleepy reverie, she slowly sits up and rubs the sleep from her eyes. Adam is still sitting next to her, drinking what appears to be his fifth cup.
“Don’t you plan on sleeping?” She asks with a yawn.
“Hell no. After today, I never want to sleep again.” His knee bouncing with energy and his eyelids drooping with exhaustion, he seems adamant, though they both know he will need to sleep eventually.
“I think it’s my turn.” She whispers, fear gripping her chest so tightly she cannot breathe. His arm wraps around her, squeezing her against him. “I’m with you, I promise.”
She squeezes him back and then stands, stretching her tired muscles and tossing back the last of his cup of coffee.
“Hey!” He protests.
“What?” She smirks at him. “I’m the one about to face hell, you can have another cup once I’m gone.” His face turns serious.
“Don’t talk like that. You can’t leave me here alone…” Guilt immediately floods through her, but before she can apologize she hears someone calling her name. “You can’t hear that, can you?” She asks even though she already knows the answer. She takes a deep breath, her fingers reaching out on their own accord for his. He grips her back firmly, following as she slowly walks towards the sound. Pushing open the door, she hears the familiar ding, and reaches in her pocket to light another cigarette.
“….really?” He tilts his eyebrow at her and she snorts.
“Fuck off.” She shakes her head and smiles, happy that if these are her last moments on earth, she at least gets to spend it with him.
“Make the right choice.” Victor’s voice is behind her again, and she looks over her shoulder automatically, knowing no one would be standing there. Except this time, there was.
“How…how can I see you all of a sudden?”
Adam follows her gaze, seeing nothing. “I can’t see him. What does he look like?”
Her jaw drops slightly. “He’s tall, kind of like a man but his limbs are really, really long. And his face, it’s darkness. Not covered, just….shadows. Incredibly deep shadows.” She shudders as his freakishly long fingers point to something happening in front of her. She turns back around and suddenly Adam and the cafe fade away leaving her, Victor, and a stranger standing in front of her. She looks down and there’s a large kitchen knife in her hand, but she doesn’t remember where she found it. She doesn’t remember anything really, except for the fuming anger forming a knot in her stomach and the fact that this stranger standing in front of her needs to die. He needs to suffer.
“Make the right choice.” Victor stands beside her now, carefully repeating each word as if it was going to make a difference. Somewhere deep inside of her mind, where Sarah was, knew that this was a horrible idea; knew that she should just run away, but her feet are moving without her, her hand raising the knife high in the air, bringing it down into the heart of the man. He didn’t react, he didn’t even try to stop her or make a sound when the tip of the blade perforated his chest and pierced his beating heart. He just…faded away, leaving her standing in the emptiness with victor and an empty hand raised in the air.
“What…what just happened?” She looks up at him, as if she’s waking up from a very long sleep. Without features, she has no idea how she can tell that he’s shattering into a thousand pieces, but she can feel it deep inside of her bones.
“I didn’t make the right choice, did I?” Her voice is tired, small.
He shakes his head dismally and takes her by the hand. “It’s time to go.”
“Wait, no!” She protests, tugging her hand from his. “There has to be another way! I didn’t know, I didn’t want to kill him! Why did I kill him!?” Her voice breaks and she lurches forward, the strange fog clearing just enough for her to see Adam staring at her, hand still entwined. His mouth is moving but she can’t make out the words, but he looks worried and it makes her heart throb with pain.
“Oh, child….” Victor’s voice sounds like he was hurting too, but for the first time she recognizes it.
“Wait, why do I know your voice? Why do I recognize it somehow?” She reels backwards, suddenly afraid again.
He steps in front of her, placing a hand on either shoulder and leveling his featureless eyes with hers. “Think, Sarah. Think.”
Images begin to flood her eyelids, his voice pulling forward memories of dark rooms and broken bones. Pain so intense that it cuts off her air envelopes her, causing her to collapse on the pavement. A man hurting her and her hurting him back, and flitting images of a second life cut short just like this one. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry….please, give me another chance, PLEASE don’t take me away!” She begs frantically, tears bubbling up inside of her, escaping in impossibly large drops. “I can’t…”
“I never wanted this for you, Sarah. I meant it when I said you were my favorite.” Victor takes a step backwards, waving his arm in the air. “At the very least I can let you say goodbye.”
The fog clears a bit more, and Adams voice breaks through as though she’s under water.
“ADAM!” She cries, “Adam please, help me!” Their eyes lock and his go wide as they travel down to her chest. She follows his gaze to the left side of her bosom where blood is spurting from a knife wound, turning her white tank top crimson.
“Wh-what the fuck!?” Adam yelps, his free hand clamping down on her chest to try to stop the bleeding. “How the hell did you get STABBED!?”
“Make the right choice. The one you don’t want to make, pick that one.” She looks at him, tears flowing freely. “Tell this story. Don’t let anyone forget about me, okay?”
“What? No, please….!” He pleads, gripping her wrist with both hands. Her eyes are sad, defeated. “Promise me..”
“I promise, Sarah. I promise.” His voice cracks as an ear piercing sound lights up from behind them and they both turn, fear rippling through them. A giant, burning hole has opened up within the cement, flames licking up higher and higher towards her.
“How stereotypical.” She winks at him, the fear in her eyes reflecting back at her through the flames in his. A scream escapes her as something knocks her feet abruptly from beneath her. Adams face drains of blood as he watches a bony, fleshless hand reach up through the fire and wrap around her ankle. Their screams blend together as the embers burn into her skin, tugging her backwards towards the literal hole to hell. He hangs onto to her wrist, trying to tug her from its grip of death but he loses his grasp and watches helpless and she claws at the cement, trying to find something to hang onto but instead just ripping her nails from their beds. It should hurt, but after the flood of memories came back it’s nothing compared to what she’s already felt. She looks up one last time, eyes meeting his as she tumbles over the edge and plunges into the pits of hell. The hole is gone as suddenly as it appeared and Adam collapses to the ground, face in his hands, a permanent, skeletal imprint seared around his right ankle.
———————-
7 days later
———————-
A fresh glass of scotch sits next to him as he leans back into his chair, doing a final read-through of his post before hitting submit. He couldn’t keep his promise to Sarah; not because he didn’t want to, but because no one remembered her in the first place. Funny thing about demons, they can erase the memory of anyone they want off the face of the planet with a flick of the wrist. But he was alive, because of her. He had to do something.
After she had been sucked into the hellhole, he had laid on the pavement for what felt like hours until someone gently called his name. He knew it was coming, but it was still unnerving hearing his name echoing around him. He looked up, seeing the same demon-thing standing off to the side, the silence deafening. In front of him lay a small child bleeding on the ground. His first instinct was to run away, and it took every ounce of strength to crawl towards the tiny, lifeless lump, but he did. He promised Sarah he wouldn’t listen to what his first instinct was and hell would freeze over before he forgot her warning. He leaned over the child, checking her vital signs like they taught you to do in first aid. She was breathing; shallow, yes, but breathing. It looked as if she had been hit by a car, and he had no idea if he could save her or not. It was bad; she needed a doctor, a hospital. He couldn’t do much, but he remembers the basics; tying a piece of fabric around the wound will stem the bleeding long enough to get her help. He tugged his shirt from his body and started tearing it in strips, wrapping each piece around every bleeding wound he could find. The feeling of needing to run was so strong it made him sick to his stomach but he held firm, focusing solely on saving the life in front of him. He finished tending to her injuries and suddenly she was gone as fast as she appeared. He was half expecting the sound of the hole opening up again behind him, but instead there was silence, more deafening silence. Relieved, he laid on the ground where the little girl was moments ago and closed his eyes, feeling as if he just escaped hell’s grasp. Which, well, he had. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in his bed to the sound of his alarm and the bustling of humanity outside of his window. At first he jumped for joy, running out onto the street in his bathrobe cheering as loud as he could. People stared, but he didn’t care. The excitement faded when he realized he was going to have to live with this, alone, for the rest of his life. The only one left who remembers what really happened, who the world lost. He went inside, sitting down at his laptop to do a search for both Sarah and Lisa, but as expected – they had never existed. The first night after the world awoke again, he had crashed into bed and fallen into a deep slumber within minutes. Maybe it’s because of this permanent bony hand print burned into his flesh or the fact that he tried so hard to save her but that night, the most incredibly realistic dream crept into his sleep – a dream of Sarah being tortured over and over again, of Victor standing in front of him, speaking but not being understood. He didn’t think much of it at first, but every time he closed his eyes the same dream would be playing behind his lids; the only difference was the torture techniques. They were different, worse each and every time. It wasn’t until the fourth night that the dream was finally strong enough to make out what Victor was saying.
“Save her, Adam. You have to save her.”
He kept screaming at the featureless being, “How? How can I save her?” but Victor never heard him. Just kept repeating the same words, over and over again. Adam started doing his own research into the occult, into the demonic world that he never used to believe exists, trying to find an explanation. As the days passed, he was able to piece together a little information, even though he had more questions than answers. Apparently in hell, certain souls will get the chance to change their future. Every 17 years, special hell-bound souls are sent to earth with no recollection of their pasts. It’s a way to test them, see if they’re worthy of redemption or not; once the souls have had enough time to acclimate, they pause humanity for a day and put the hell-souls back into the same event with the same emotions that got them sent to hell in the first place. If you make the same choice, they’ll take you back to hell for another few eternities. If you make a different choice – you get to keep on living as if nothing happened and when you die, you go to heaven. Seems simple, no loopholes and a pretty great future for him, but he wasn’t giving up yet. He kept digging, kept pushing to find an answer and on the 6th day, he finally found one. Not the one he was looking for, but an answer all the same. Now he understood. When they first found the blog of Alice’s, they all assumed that her partner had killed himself from grief, but they were wrong.
That night, Adam finished typing up the story of Sarah and Lisa and their wild adventure. He spent the entirety of the 7th day with his family, tying up loose ends. The evening of the 7th night, he pours himself a nice glass of his favorite scotch and posts his story on the same blog that Alice used, explaining everything for the next soul who’s sent to earth. Logging off for the final time, he closes his laptop and pops open the lid of his father’s prescription sleeping pills, staring at them for a few minutes before washing the bottle down with the last gulp of scotch. He climbs into bed, quickly falling into a deep slumber from which he will never wake.
In his dream that night, he spoke to Victor.
“Tell her I’m coming. I’m coming to save her.”
For the first time, Victor heard him. For the first time, Adam saw him smile.
Rantings of a Crazy Cat Lady 