Endling

by Munchy_Wave

Chapter Two: The Boy

A disheveled face stares into the mirror that lays in front of it. The mirror had seen better days. Its once pristine shine now worn by the hands of time, having mold growing on the corners of it and dust covering its once smooth surface; giving out a dull, dirtied reflection. Even without these flaws, the face that peers into it wouldn't look any better. Streaks of mud are splattered on the face of a young human teen, discoloring his tan skin with a mess of browns. Shadowy bags underneath his forest green eyes prove unrest and sleepless nights. Long locks of black matted hair are parted to one side of his head reached to his thighs. He inhaled through his small nose. Holding the breath in for a few short seconds, he releases it as a deep, melancholy sigh. His lips formed a short frown as he inspects his depressing self.

He is hunched over on a porcelain sink that now contains long thin cracks and imperfections on its surface. The sink has long lost function as the pipes and waterworks were unmaintained for years. No one to fix it. A drab dark green hoodie that has small tears and holes is worn over his body, sleeves covering every inch of his arm. Wrinkled gray cargo pants with miscolored patches sewn into it to fix its once gaping holes are snuggly fit around his waist. The teen wore black boots with the laces haphazardly tied. These were the only pairs of shoes he had, as they were the only usable pair in his size. After standing there for a few minutes, he finally decided to start his day. Pushing himself up from the sink, he stretched his tired muscles. He pulled his torso backward in an attempt to crack his stiff back that was making him uncomfortable. A satisfying series of pops echoed in the shady room he resided in. Pleasured with the outcome, he turned and glanced over the room he called home.

It was one of the few apartment buildings in the area that was close enough to his needs and wasn't completely destroyed. The room in question was located on the first floor of the maroon building. Part of it was caved in, but the rest is almost completely untouched aside from the elements.

In the right corner of the room was a spring mattress on the floor in which, surprisingly, was in somewhat alright condition. On top laid a neatly folded navy blue blanket, with a vague scent of sweat. He folded his comforter out of habit. One of the few things that still keep him sane. Away from the mattress by a few meters was a door that led to the bathroom. A baren oak desk laid in the middle of the room accompanied by an office rolling chair. The once plush fabric on the seat of the chair is somewhat torn, exposing the dirty yellow foam that filled its inside with a long rope of fabric that is peeled off onto the floor. Blank sheets of copy paper are strewn on the desk along with a few writing utensils. Some of the sheets of paper contained drawings of people that are now no more.

Next to papers was a mishmash of electronics that were put together. There was a single circuit board with a few colored wires connecting to a small solar panel, no larger than one of the sheets of paper right beside it. Its sole purpose is to provide electricity to charge a portable phone battery. The teen spent around a week constructing the damned thing for a smartphone. Even without society, he can't live without one. His only source of entertainment in the form of digital media. Of course, the internet was no longer a thing now. He depended on the things that were already downloaded on his phone. On lucky days, he would find other phones that had an intact SIM card. With that, he had the ability to view more media.

On the left side of his room was the mirror and sink he was just at. Beside that was a kitchen with fine oak cupboards and a black, sleek granite top. An old fridge was in the center of the kitchen. He sometimes finds himself opening the cursed thing only to be disappointed by mold. And then he would do it again as if it would magically poof food into existence if he would to open it once more. Beside the fridge was a small gap that led to the stove, which thanks to the heavens, works. All he needs is propane tanks as the stove is gas-powered. If it weren't for the fact that this was a rather old building in terms of modern times, he wouldn't have had a stove. With this trusty stove, he would cook himself warm meals. The walls of the room had red and orange wallpaper that had the two colors in a pattern in vertical lines. Some of it is peeled, but what can you do about it. The floor by his matress was carpeted with a dirty shade of gray.

He put his hand on the doorknob of the front door. Next to the door frame was a machete leaning on the side of the wall. It was dull, just like everything around him is. Unfortunately, he couldn't find a blade whetstone for it. He mainly just carries around with him. It gives him a sense of security. Mostly because he doesn't know when those things will return. Along with the machete was its sheath. Putting one the sheath around his waist, he put the machete in it.

Putting a hand on the brass doorknob, he twists it. The sound of wood creaking announced his exit. Pushing the door open, golden rays of sunlight forces its way in, giving the dull room a mellow glow. It also assaulted his eyes, causing him to pull up his hood. He loved the sun, always did. The warmth provided to him on a cool afternoon, the yellow light that shone through the curtains of his long-gone home. But now, after the calamity, the suns rays became harsher on his skin. Though, it only seems like it affects him as everything else is fine like it always was. Plants didn't get sun damaged, the water didn't evaporate at a high rate. It just seems as if the sun is after him, burning and skin that's exposed to it longer than a few minutes. Strange things like this have been popping into existence after the dreaded day. One of the strangest things to happen is the skyscrapers defying gravity and physics. Floating hundreds of feet in the air, twisting into strange shapes acting if it was semi-liquid, producing noises of rope being stretched.

Before completely going out the door, he made sure all his skin was covered properly. Last time he didn't check, and it gave him swells and irritated skin because of his carelessness. He walked out and closed the door behind him. There was no need for a lock since there was no one else out there. In front of him lays a rectangular patch of overgrown grass and plants he planted himself. Since he couldn't just go to a grocery store and buy himself fresh produce, he grew his own. Tomatoes, potatoes, a few greens such as cabbage and cucumber, to name a few; were all being grown in this garden of his. He was quite proud of it. He made sure it was properly protected as he planted fencing around his crops with small fine nets to keep animals out.

Around the garden is a cement pathway that leads into other apartment building's doors and exits from the open building space. One of the exists are caved in. The numbers that were once on the doors are faded, barely legible. The roof can be seen from the open space, it's spanish tiles have green mold growing on them. A gutter runs along the edge of the roof that leads into the garden space that leads into a rain barrel. The teen cleans it regularly and uses it as a water collecter.

The sounds of a rooster call echoed throughout the building. The teen's head snapped to the right to see a rooster perched on top of a metal fence post that surrounded his garden. It was one of the chickens he found during an expedition outside of the city.

"Goodmorning to you too, Pip." The solemn voice escaped from the teen's lips. The rooster simply stared at him, then blinking after a few seconds. It had a large red crown that stood proudly on the top of his small head. Its black feathers had a green and blue shine to them.

Clucking was heard as well. Walking over to the fence, he peered down to see the rest of his chickens he found. They were all hens of different colors pecking at the floor in a small clearing in the grass. One had black feathers with white stripes with an orange crown, he simply called this one Zebra. The second was just a normal hazel brown hen with a sunflower yellow beak he called Amber. And finally the third was a lovely pearl white hen, its the biggest one of them all. He called this one Cloud, as its white feathers were always poofed up. He maintained and cared for these chickens as they provide him a daily food source in the form of protein, eggs.

A smile crept up his lips, he enjoyed having them his only company. He turned and looked an open bag of dried corn he collected on his journey outside the city. He was using this as feed. Besides the bag of dried corn was a couple of dozen closed bags of dried corn. He wouldn't run out of feed for his chickens any time soon. Reaching into the open bag, he grabbed onto a small Tupperware container. Scooping up the dried corn, he called over his chickens.

"Ksksks, come here little guys, it's time for your food." He cooed to the chickens.

The chickens all stopped what they were doing and started to slowly walk over to the fence where the teen was. Lifting up the now filled container, he started to lightly shower the clearing with dried corn. Picking some up with his open hand and holding the container in the other. The chickens all began to scurry over to the corn that landed closest to them, pecking at the small pieces on the floor. This was all part of his daily routine, and he enjoyed it. Seeing the chickens wander around the small clearing they had for themselves, watching them drink water on a mini trough he found. It was also one of the few things that kept him going. After feeding his beloved chickens, he started to head out on one of the exits. To prevent the chickens from leaving the building, he barricaded the other exits and put a door in the one he uses.

Recently, he had a problem of the rooster flying from his post onto the low roof above it, so to solve this problem, he was going to a home improvement store today to look for a net large enough to cover the open roof. This also comes with the added benefit of some light shade and it also prevents debris from entering the gutters of his water collector. Unfortunately, the nearest home improvement store is a few miles away. This trip would take up most of his day. No better time to start than now.

"Alright little guys, I'll see you in a bit. Pip, please stay in here for the love of God. I don't want you getting lost."

A simple cluck came from Pip.

"I mean it!" The teen worryingly exclaimed.

He began to head to the exit of his building. It was a small corridor that led to the outside. In the corridor, was his orange camping bag that contained all he needed for his trips. Picking up the heavy bag and putting the straps over his shoulders into place, he opened the door. Outside was a small parking lot with a handfull of abandoned vehicles. Some of the paint from the cars have been worn off by the elements. Thin vines grew over the cars as well. One of the small trucks in the lot was completely rusted. It's quite strange actually. Some cars look abandoned for a year or two and others look as if they were there for dozens of years. The teen always just assumed it was with the messed up time thing after the calamity.

Making his way through the lot, he pulled out a smartphone from his pocket and black cords from the other. They were his headphones. His device has been working perfectly, allowing him to charge his portable charger every day completely. He then used the portable charger one his phone. Plugging in the headphones, he started to fiddle with the screen of his phone. It was in good shape, with only a few small cracks on the corners of his device. He had a couple of hundred songs he had downloaded prior to the calamity. He decided to continue from where he left off in his music. One of his favorite artists began to play. The familiar tune brings him back to a better time.

He reached the main road in front of his home. He reached back with his arm and grabbed onto a map that was in the water bottle pocket of the camp bag. Pulling out from its place, he kneeled on the sidewalk he was on and spread open the map on it. It was a map of a portion of the city he was in. There was plenty of circles and crosses on the map that was added by the teen. He was looking at an orange circle on the map. It was his destination for the day. There was an orange line connecting to the circle. It was a path he marked from the store to where he resided in. It was about four miles away.

The sounds of rope being tugged on and stretched echoes down the road he was near. It broke his concentration. He looked up. In the distance was one of those strange skyscrapers that floated hundreds of feet from the ground. He saw it twist and knot into itself. It almost as if it came straight out of Doctor Stange. He never dared to go near one. He feared it as it appeared the day when it all began. The quickest way to the store neared the strange thing by a mile. It wasn't that close, but he didn't think too much of it. As long as he's not next to the thing he'd be fine.

After being satisfied with checking the map, he folded it up again and it back into its place. Getting up from the hard sidewalk, he took his first step into the direction of the store.

The noises stopped. Everything was silent. The ambient sound of wind blowing was gone. The sounds of the strange building were gone. A shiver went down the back of his spine. Goose bumps formed on his arms. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. The light started to get dim. He began to panic. His breathing rampant. It all was happening so quickly. He thought the world was ending right there and then.

"The hells going on?" He broke the silence, dread in his voice.

The once bright sunlight was now dimmed to a weak glow. The once blue sky is now gray. He couldn't see from far anymore. One could describe is as a deep fog that's evenly spread out on everything. It got dimmer and dimmer. He began to run back to his shelter. Passing the lot to the entrance. He grabbed onto the door's handle, struggling to open it because of the fear. He could hear his heart beating.

"C'mon! Open you stupid piece of shit!" He cursed at the door.

Suddenly, as if it was a shockwave, the light returned. He saw the sky turn back into a blue hue. It was as if it was all returning almost in the form of a dome. A breeze appeared from now where, blowing his hood back and swaying his long hair into the wind.

"What in the actual fuck was that?"

He saw a hot pink gleam in the corner of his eye. Facing the direction of the mysterious light, he saw something unexplainable. A hot pink crack was forming in the sky. It was mesmerizing yet terrifying.

"Is this another anomaly from the calamity? That happened years ago, though!" He was confused and anxious about the growing crack in the sky. It must've been at least a couple dozen miles away. He swore he saw six dots fall from it. And then, as fast as it arrived, it disappeared.

"I think I need to lay down." He rubbed his temples. He reached for the door handle.

BOOOM!!!

A massive earth-shattering sound suddenly filled his ears. The ground vibrated and shook as if an earthquake was occurring. The sound was so intense it caused him to trip and hit his head on the door handle. He collapsed onto the floor out cold.

Author's Note:

Sorry, it took so long to bring this one up! Hurricane Dorian didn't do much to Florida thankfully but ravaged the Bahamas and a port in North Carolina. My power just went out for a day. I also got terribly sick during the prior weekend, slowing me down on this story. Hopefully, I can actually update more frequently now. Have a good day!

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

Is this story in any way related to this guy?

[Munchy_Wave]

9823677
No, I don't know who that guy is, but he does have some interesting art.

[Acadians6545]

A disheveled face stares into the mirror that lays in front of it. The mirror had better days. Its once pristine shine now worn by the hands of time, having mold growing on the corners of it and dust covering its once smooth surface; giving out a dull, dirtied reflection. Even without these flaws, the face that peers into it wouldn't look any better. Streaks of mud are splattered on the face of a young human teen, discoloring his tan skin with a mess of browns. Shadowy bags underneath his forest green eyes prove unrest and sleepless nights. Long locks of black matted hair are parted to one side of his head reached to his thighs. He inhaled through his small nose. Holding the breath in for a few short seconds, he releases it as a deep, melancholy sigh. His lips formed a short frown as he inspects his depressing self.

Seen better days

He is hunched over on a porcelain sink than now because long thin cracks and imperfections on its surface. The sink has long lost function as the pipes and waterworks were unmaintained for years. No one to fix it. A drab dark green hoodie that has small tears and holes is worn over his body, sleeves covering every inch of his arm. Wrinkled gray cargo pants with miscolored patches sewn into it to fix its once gaping holes are snuggly fit around his waist. The teen wore black boots with the laces haphazardly tied. These were the only pairs of shoes that were the closest to his size, and that was usable; unlike the other rotted ones in a shoe store he scavenged. After standing there for a few minutes, he finally decided to start his day. Pushing himself up from the sink, he stretched his tired muscles. He pulled his torso backward in an attempt to crack his stiff back that was making him uncomfortable. A satisfying series of pops echoed in the shady room he resided in. Pleasured with the outcome, he turned and glanced over the room he called home.

You should change it to "they were the only usable pair in his size" it reads easier.

He put his hand on the doorknob of the front door. Next to the door frame was a machete leaning on the side of the wall. It was dull, just like everything around him is. Unfortunately, he couldn't find a blade sharpener for it. He mainly just carries around with him. It gives him a sense of security. Mostly because he doesn't know when those things will return. Along with the machete was its sheath. Putting one the sheath around his waist, he put the machete in it.

The sharpener is called a whetstone.

Glad Dorian didn't hit y'all too hard and that you're not sick.
Keep it up this is getting good.

[Munchy_Wave]

9824116
Thanks for pointing these out to me, they should be fixed now! Also, thank you for your encouraging words, much appreciated.

[Acadians6545]

9824470
Youre welcome man

[Beanygrow15237]

Will there be any more chapters

[Prince Jules Moonshade]

I’m enjoying what I read so far I do hope to see more soon! Keep up the nice work!