I. Weekend Headache
Alarms.
John fucking hated alarms.
Every day they plagued and tormented his existence in the early hours of the morning. He would have loved nothing more than to throw it out the window and resume his peaceful slumber.
Of course, that just meant he had to buy a new one. They always won in the end. Clever bastards.
He let out a groan of annoyance as his arm shot out from beneath the covers, searching for the dreaded contraption. He found his mark a few painfully long seconds later and slammed down on it, effectively shutting it up for the day.
“Bloody hell… What hour is it?” he grunted as he rolled onto his back and brought his hands up to his eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to get rid of the grogginess.
On instinct, his hand lingered away from his eyes and searched for his phone on the nightstand. Once he had it in his grasp, he brought it up above him and hit the power button, eyes still half open.
Everyone knows the pain of waking up at unholy hours and trying to use their phones. John was no different, as soon as he did so, his vision was assaulted by what anyone would describe as a military-grade spotlight.
He hissed and quickly closed his eyes, his head turning to the side and his free hand covering his vision. “Fuck’s sake...” he muttered as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness.
It didn't take as long as he had feared, as, within ten seconds or so, the discomfort had largely abandoned him.
Taking his hand away from his eyes, he glanced at the hour the phone was displaying. His eyes lingered over it a few times. Five thirty AM. He usually woke up at that time anyway. But if he remembered correctly, wasn't it…
“Saturday... goddamn it.” Just his luck, he had forgotten to turn the alarm off before going to bed.
'Starting off the day on a bad note, great.’ he thought bitterly as he dropped his phone beside him on the bed. Swinging his legs around, he moved to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and threw the covers off.
Any other sensible man would have gone right back to sleep, but not John. Once he woke up, the chances of him falling back asleep were comparable to that of winning the lottery.
Giving himself a few seconds to stare at the wall and contemplate why he even existed, he proceeded to slap his knees with his hands and lift himself up.
“Eh, I wonder if Bill’s available today...” he muttered to no one in particular as he absentmindedly scratched his rear. He was fairly sure he had no plans for today. He'd probably end up wasting his time away playing games until slumber came back knocking.
With that said, he yawned and turned to the bathroom, stretching as he walked the short distance between it and his bed. He opened the door and turned the light on, his eyes suffering less this time around after the molesting they had received earlier.
He went into autopilot mode as he began the routine he had imprinted into his brain for the last four years. With the brushing of his teeth, the emptying of his bladder, and the cleansing of his body with moderately hot water, he was ready to start the day.
After drying himself off, he exited the bathroom and walked butt-ass naked to his closet, from which he retrieved a nice, comfy set of robes. Relishing in the sheer comfort of the fabric for a few seconds, he quickly put it on and walked out of his door, not bothering to close it behind him.
He lived in a fairly decent two-story house, nothing too shabby. It's exactly what you'd expect from any other stereotypical British home with the slightest bit of an American style mixed in. Not that he gave a shit, mind you.
Switching on the lights as he strode down the stairs, he wasted little time in finding his way to the kitchen and opening the fridge.
His face developed a frown as he gazed into his fridge. He definitely needed to make a quick stop and buy some things today. Luckily, he had all he needed for a nice, fulfilling breakfast.
“Shh, I'm here, my love…” he whispered tenderly as he gently eased his hand into the fridge, pulling from within a box of pancake mix. With all the care in the world, he set it down on the counter and took out a half-empty bottle of milk before turning heel and closing the door with his foot.
“Today, I dine with the gods!” he crackled in his best evil voice as he went about preparing the holy site for the ritual.
He was a simple man, really. And any simple man had simple breakfasts. Some people liked to have eggs with ketchup, or eat frozen pizza for their morning meal. To John, those people were bloody insane. What kind of neanderthal would choose something like bacon and eggs over a pair of steamy pancakes with syrup?
John spent the next four minutes preparing his breakfast and pondering what to do for the day. He definitely needed to get some groceries, his fridge was already starting to look like a wasteland. But after that was set and done, he was left with an entire day of nothing.
He was pretty sure neither Brian or Jack were gonna be available for the day. Those two had been dragged down to London by their wives due to some family disputes or something, so that left either Bill, who was sick at the moment or his games.
He didn't consider himself a 'video game addict’ as some people liked to call it. His library of nearly five hundred games would dispute that, but he didn't really play half of them. They've laid uninstalled since the day he got them for cheap in the summer and winter sales.
Star Citizen, maybe? The game was fun, and pretty as hell too, but he'd already spent too much time dicking around in there. He didn't feel like playing it today.
His mind was divided between Elite Dangerous or Overwatch when he was forced to come back to reality and attend to his pancakes before they burnt to a crisp.
“They almost did get fuckin’ burnt…” he murmured as he quickly went about taking them off of the pans and depositing them on a nearby plate he had ready. Three in total, not too shabby.
You might be wondering how he made three pancakes so fast. When you have more than one burner on the stove, why not put them to good use? The multitasking aspect wasn't that hard.
With his pancakes freshly made and totally not burnt on the edges, he applied the necessary amount of syrup and went to town on the poor things.
Anyone looking in would have noticed a man savagely attacking a herd of defenseless disks of flour and syrup while taking short breaks to wash it down with milk directly from the carton.
John may have brought them into existence, but they only knew pain.
A few minutes later, he was sitting on the couch in his living room, leaning back with a hand on his stomach and a satisfied look on his face.
His hand lazily searched for the remote of his TV for a few seconds before firmly grasping the slippery bastard and turning on his TV. It wasn't anything fancy. 45 inches, 1080p resolution, fairly standard nowadays.
As he absentmindedly switched between the channels available, he noticed the flash of lightning through the window to the left of him. Glancing over in its direction, he spotted the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the glass, eliciting an annoyed grunt from him.
“Raining again? Well, at least it's comfier now.” He knew a lot of people whose mood was affected in a not so positive way by rain. But it was really the opposite for him. Most of the time he loved it when it rained, especially when the time came to hit the hay. There was something soothing and relaxing about the droplets hitting the tiles of his porch and roof that helped him relax and drive him into a deep sleep.
It didn't help with his quickly growing boredom, however. With every press of a button to change the channel, he became increasingly bored and frustrated at the lack of anything worthwhile. At times like these, he wished Mythbusters hadn't ended. That show had a knack for keeping you entertained, even when rewatching older episodes.
With a flick of his wrist, he turned the TV off and stood up, stretching his arms and letting out a yawn.
“Well, I have nothing better to do anyway,” he reassured himself as he walked back up the stairs and into his room, shoving the almost closed door open.
Turning the lights on, the room was exactly as he had left it. Messy bed to the top right, drawer to the bottom right, closet beside the drawer, and his set up taking up most of the space to the next, next to his bathroom.
He always made sure to clean this place up every week or so, God knows how many times he had to punt something across the room at night to make him start cleaning it regularly.
Sparing a glance at the floor to make sure it was clear of debris, he lumbered over to his chair and plopped down, reaching under the desk and hitting the power button of his PC in the process.
The familiar sound of fans spinning up reached his ears as he saw the Windows 10 logo appear on the screen. It lasted for a total of three seconds before it successfully booted into his desktop. Ah, the wonders of an SSD.
“Now, let's see…” He squinted his eyes as Steam popped up, they lingered up and down his vast library of games, unable to spot one that piqued his interest.
A minute or two went by as he struggled to find something to entertain himself with. There was no shortage of options, but most were either uninteresting or he had already played them long enough to grow bored, save for a select few, which he wasn't in the mood for at the moment.
His suffering was put on temporary hold as he heard the all too familiar tone of a Discord call. His cursor quickly moved over to the icon and restored the minimized window.
“Bill? He's up at this hour?” He vaguely remembered that the poor bastard had gotten sick a few days ago, but he didn't expect him to be up at these hours.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he reached over to his headset and slid it over his head into position before answering the call.
He was the first to speak after a two second period of silence. “Bill? What are you doing up at this hour? Aren't you sick?” He minimized Discord once more and went about idly entertaining himself by rearranging his desktop icons.
He heard a heavy sniffing and coughing sound come through the headset before he got a proper answer. “Fuck me… I can't sleep, this bloody cold is not letting me. I might as well try and keep myself busy.” He heard another cough.
“Shit, you alright over there? Sounds like you're going to cough up a lung,” John asked, hands now finding their way to cover his mouth as he yawned. He definitely needed to stop waking up so early.
“Yeah, I'm fine. It's just a cold, I've had worse.” Bill dismissed his concern, which was followed closely by another cough.
“Whatever floats your boat. What do you want to do? I've been indecisive on what to play.” John moved on as he brought up Steam again.
“Eh… I dunno, Counter-Strike, maybe?” Bill suggested, to which John shook his head, aware that he obviously couldn't see him do so.
“I still have a seven-day ban because of you jackasses, remember?” he grunted in annoyance, unpleasant memories of the event leading up to the ban now lingering in his mind.
He heard Bill let out the beginnings of a chuckle, which were quickly shot down by a cough. “Oh, right. Well… Overwatch?” John paused for a second before answering.
“Fuck it, why not. I'm in the mood to break my desk today.” He shrugged as he closed steam and opened up Battle.net, ignoring everything else and proceeding to run the game.
“You're way too violent for your own good in these competitive games. Just… relax and have fun,” Bill lectured as he followed in John's footsteps and launched the aforementioned game.
“I don't play comp to lose, Einstein,” he replied sarcastically as he awaited an invite.
He heard a snort come through as he noticed the invite and lazily moused over it, clicking it a few more times than necessary. “Doesn't mean you have to get your panties in a bunch over it,” Bill retorted.
“Whatever, just start the game. I need to get myself something to drink first.” John barely registered his friend's acknowledgment of his request as he took his headset off and stood up.
Pushing the chair back, he let out another yawn as he soon found himself walking down the stairs and arriving at his kitchen again.
Upon opening the fridge once more, he was instantly reminded of the cold emptiness of it, eliciting another frown that easily rivaled his previous one.
“Right… at least there's still some Coke left,” he mumbled as he took a half-empty Coca-Cola bottle and turned around, closing the fridge with his foot.
With a twist, he took off the cap and smiled as the all too familiar hissing sound filled the room. “Sounds like he..-” He stopped himself as he heard the hissing intensify.
Lifting up the bottle to his face, he quickly inspected it. It didn't take a rocket scientist to find out that the hissing was no longer originating from the bottle but from somewhere else.
Now officially spooked, he tossed a few glances to the sides and over his shoulder, spotting no apparent source of the hissing noise.
His spook meter began to subside as his more rational mind looked over at the sink, finding it sealed shut. A quick check down under confirmed that theory. It definitely wasn't a leaky pipe. And he certainly didn't have any gas canisters in his house. He always thought those things were too much of a hazard to have.
“The fuck?” He scratched his head as he stopped in the middle of the kitchen, unable to find the source of the sound.
Strangely enough, it seemed to suddenly stop, leaving John in total silence. His spook meter, however, was spiking again. Deciding that dying wasn't worth finding out the origin of the hissing, he began a slow walk back to his room, which quickly deteriorated to a fast walk, and then an all-out sprint to his room.
He wasn't about to go investigate outside or spend another second downstairs until the sun came up. Call him a pussy all you want, anyone with half a brain could tell you that investigating too much into strange noises while it was dark outside never led to anything good.
Arriving at his room, he quickly pushed the door shut and locked it, letting out a sigh of relief as he leaned against it.
“What the fuck was that...?” he asked himself as he stayed quiet for a few seconds and listened for any further noises or even footsteps.
Thankfully, none came. The only sound that did was the yelling of Bill coming through his headset, which quickly alerted him to the now ongoing game.
“Oh shit.” With the previous situation now cast aside, he raced over to his desk and began to play, deciding to explain what had happened to Bill after the match.
Unbeknownst to him, however, was the being just outside of his kitchen window who held in a clawed hand a half-empty Coca-Cola bottle similar to John's, the cap hovering just above the opening.
If anyone would have been unlucky enough to get a glimpse of it, they'd notice the distinct lack of common sense it seemed to give off, along with the many mismatched forms under its possession.
A chuckle left its snout as it peered over the window and into the house, a smirk forming on its face.
“Time to head back home,” He smirked and tossed the bottle over his shoulder, which promptly exploded in a shower of smaller Pepsi cans. Said cans proceeded to grow legs and quickly ran off in all directions.
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Coca-Cola bottle exploded into small Pepsi cans? I can feel there is a meaning behind this.
Same dude!
8792765
- Little Nicky(the movie... Duh)
IT'S EXTREMELY EVIL!!!!
8792765
Noooo!! You Heathen!!!! Thou shalt burn in the fiery lands of Mercury for all of enternity!! Die foul beast!!! DIIIIIIIIE!!!
Pancake batter in the fridge? I don't get it.
8793307
Get in the flask.
Personally I didn't needed the whole big Human and his living room chapter with only the small ending with Discord.
I'm never really that interessted in what happens in the human world for one or two chapters if it is never really important in the future anyway.
To me it's enough if the just stumble into a portal or something, I actually often prefer it if it doesn't has anything to do with some god pulling the character out of the realm. Well Discord is kind of okay because then it doesn't always has to be for some kind of destiny s***.
I always get confused if I look at this (your former story) and the other one, not remembering in which one happened this or that, but I finally noticed that this is your rewrite.
Well I suppose nothing really wrong with this chapter, but it was not really interessting to me.
He's very much more likely to have a bottle of milk rather than a carton, hell as far as I can remember seeing, the only carton's we have are for stuff like evaporated and condensed milk.
8795605
I agree 100%. I scrolled through this entire chapter. Hopefully the rest of the story is readable.
But you -- you are still everywhere...
*starts crying hystericly*
9123281
Peace be with your brother. This tragedy shall be avenged one day.
8795605
I'm usually of the same opinion, but I like this chapter. Something about it was relatable and easy to read.
8795605
Personally, I like this kind of thing. While I understand your lack of interest in the human segment, if the activities on Earth (in a normal, non-stress environment) show something about the character of the person going through them, or include friends/family that have an emotional impact later in the story, then they are absolutely necessary to starting it out right.
But yes. Going on for too long, or just having filler is annoying. It doesn't help that the main character is pretty generic. Not that it means the story won't be interesting, but with a character this generic, a start like this will end up being more boring, regardless of whether it sets up anything else for the future.
Discord.
9384444
No, his name was changed to Dicklord.
1. eww, eggs and ketchup *gags*
2. at least microwave the pizza first
3. yes, you are insane if you have eggs with ketchup or eat cold pizza
4. I guess everybody is a neanderthal than
You sir, are cultured. Very cultured👌
9653412
I know right? Eggs with chili sauce is where its at.