by Davi Cao
He left the office and walked to the corridor. Colin knocked on the neighbor’s door and waited. He placed his ear on the wood, picking up a sepulchral silence. The black doorknob rippled, its metal corrugated by an apparent melting.
He knocked on the other doors, and, impatient, he tried to open one. It yielded to his pressure, swinging in to a dark room. Colin looked for a radio, a TV set, anything that could capture waves and turn them into news. Instead, he found only computers and abandoned cell phones.
His phone had a radio receiver, a fact he only remembered when he got back to his office. He turned it on, trying to make it work. No station answered with meaningful messages, all bombarding him with loud static noise. Those distant cries of long waves dominated the entire room, breaking his loneliness with the fall of civilization.
Isolated on the seventh floor of a building, in the midst of rapture, the only help coming his way answered by his own name. If the computers stopped working, if the energy blacked out, he would be forced to leave his shelter and get back home to stay with his parents. The air-conditioner still labored, though, keeping the atmosphere fresh, while the streets liquefied down under. Walking home, on that strange day? No way.
Colin had witnessed the end of the world, no doubt about it anymore. He called his parents, waiting for an answer with eyes intent on the scenery through the window. It should have been night by then, not the purplish bright that dilated his pupils, the land illuminated by fires and the glowing blue pillar, bigger than ever, racing to shore.
“I’m so miserable ... why am I so alone? It was all my fault ... my fault ...”
Nobody picked up the phone at Colin’s house, and his parents’ cell phones were dead. His body shivered with fear, aware of his frailty in the face of real danger. The office had died, leaving him jobless and abandoned. Despite his terror of the empty city, he’d have to get out and find a way to reach home before anything bad happened to him.
His phone rang. On the screen, he read Angeline Merchant’s name, he opened his eyes wide to be sure of it. He swiped the glass to answer the call, placing the speaker on his ear with trembling fingers. A voice struggled against wind, noisy blasts seeping through the machine, panting, gasping for air.
“Colin? Colin, please—” she said.
“Oh my God, Angeline, I’m here, where are you?”
“It’s not fair to end like this, no, it isn’t ...” she said, sobbing, crying.
“Tell me where you are! I’m coming there right now!”
“I don’t want to melt ... it’s terrible, everything is melting ... I don’t want to—”
“It’s happening here too, just tell me where you are, I beg you!”
“I love you, Colin ... always did ... wish we'd had the time ... this isn't how it should end ... God, I feel so miserable ... so alone ... the worst of all ...”
“No, you’re not, you’re absolutely not! You're amazing! Listen, talk to me, do you hear me? I love y—”
Screechy, acute noises interrupted the connection, cutting off their signal. He tried calling her again, he tried over and over, until he gave up after his own phone lost its pulse. Pressed against his ear, the speaker refused to work. He raised his hand in anticipation, gathering strength to throw the thing at the wall, and then he breathed hard to control his overreaction. The object slipped from his fingers, melting down on the floor.
How long would he have to wait to lose himself in catatonic spasms, to bang his head on the wall and agonize in torturing pain? How long until his body became juice and flowed over the furniture like honey falling from a cupboard?
“It’s all gone ... I’m doomed forever in the darkness of the world ... I suffer and it will never end ...”
Colin swung his head with the voice inside it, tearing bit by bit at his optimism, convincing him of misery. Melting down, yes, why not? No, Angeline said it well, she got the spirit, she knew that melting down was no way of ending life.
Thus, he walked to the window, hitting it hard with a chair to make it break. The glass exploded in dust, half its shards becoming liquid, half remaining intact, sharp blades in the edges. Having cracked a hole, he peered outside, the warmth of the atmosphere gently caressing his skin, the kiss before the slap. The blue glowing pillar moved south.
“Nobody, nobody is here ... I can’t be saved ... I’m in hell and I want to disappear ...”
Facing the street far below, Colin blinked many times in a row. He would disappear, he would escape that hell. He would not meltdown, though. He’d do it Earth style, jumping off a building.
∙ 3 ∙ OOOO
At first, Colin closed his eyes. His world had vanished, leaving him alone to watch his beloved place suffer until complete disappearance. The Earth of so many dreams and conquests said goodbye, finding him and nobody else to bid farewell to. The existence he loved so much ended with Angeline's departure from the office, with Mr. Alden's melting, with his parents vanishing. He was now just flesh awaiting its decomposition. To jump, he stepped on the window sill. The Voice never stopped speaking.
“I hate it all ... And I have nobody to hate with me ...”
He opened his eyes to make sure he had a good basis for a free jump. He caught something moving below, something fast, hopping on the asphalt, a black shape. It jumped high to reach the building in front of his. Skinny legs, many of them, a big head, dark and fast. It lowered itself and threw its body towards Colin, a big jump aimed at the hole in the office window.
Colin tumbled backwards in reflex, in fear, falling on the chair behind him, in front of the computer, smashing aluminum and plastic. Half melted solids, they bent soft at his grip. The creature, whatever it was, big as a man, lighter than a dog, passed over him. Its feet hurtled over Colin, a feather duster walking by itself, probing every particle of his body while it spilled floor chunks when hitting the tiles. Colin protected his head with both arms, his eyes shut, unable to look at what assaulted him, at what swept his skin with the energy of frenetic feathers.
When the invader left his body in peace, hopping to the room's corner behind the computers, Colin glanced around in fright, expecting a big bird or a monstrous bat. Laying still on the ground, he turned his head to the creature's resting place. His heart pounded with thunderous beats, drunk with adrenaline. At that moment, death seemed certain, varying only in the nature of its coming. He would hate if it came in alien ways.
Under the table, on the floor, he peered at the wall, holding his breath. A row of black rods leaned against the corner. Long, black cylinders, dark broomsticks, moving one over the other, sliding on the floor and doing their best to keep the body they held above them in close contact with the wall. They made liquid noises, struggling with the melting tiles, and where Colin couldn’t yet see, over the computer tables, he heard acute sounds of teeth banging on metal.
Taking courage to face the newcomer, yet fearing the outcome of his confrontation, he took hold of the chair next to him and stood up quickly, using it as his shield. A deformed head stared at him, terrified and scared, its bloody eyes colored by the terror of an incoming slaughter.
It had two big round eyes with tiny pupils, a mouth stretching all over its cheeks, reaching nearly what would be the creature’s eyebrows, if it had them. Pointy teeth showed past its lips, each far from the other, fragile, useless. It had no nose, and no limbs besides the dark rods that grew from its torso. Layers of soft fabric covered the equivalent of its chest, decorated with the colors that burned the sky, red, purple, yellow, orange. It had hair, moon-dust gray, clamped in curly meshes sculpted in the shape of spheres and horns.
“It’s horror, pure horror! Much worse than anticipated, much, much worse!” it said.
“What ... What are you? Who are you?” Colin held the chair high, covering half of his face.
“It’s so bad I can’t believe it! Really, I can’t! It is raw power, isn't it?” It looked straight into Colin’s eyes.
“Are you running away too?”
Through the window, the horizon glowed, violet streaks taking over the red of explosions, its vastness free from the colossal blue pillar. Colin lowered his chair to the floor. The Voice still resonated in his head, it still reminded him of misery and uselessness, human, voice, animal, creature, all worthless pieces of matter, Colin being a terrible person, the worst of all, isolated from everybody, friendless, despicable by nature, not one friend left to his care. The cornered beast, however, occupied the office with him, alive.
The creature moved from the corner, leaning on the wall as it walked to the other extremity. It seemed a spider unable to climb vertical surfaces, an arachnid with a round head and the eyes of an animal. The way it looked at Colin, far from him, separated by two rows of tables, it expressed anguish, fear, despite its constant smile. Those eyes, goggled eyes, staring at his human companion, they burned from the inside. Colin dodged the beast's advance, stepping to the side.
“Even we can’t deal with it, can we? It’s much worse than I predicted!” it said.
“What are you talking about? Hey, do you understand me? What’s your point?” Colin said.
“If it gets me, I can melt too! We must get away! Or deal with it ... with— Maybe I can’t deal with it. Can you deal with it?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you!” It bent three of its black rods in front of its mouth.
“I’m trying, but I think I can’t.”
“See? We can’t! It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
The creature moved over the computers between it and Colin, swiftly crawling on the tables without toppling anything. Its body had less than a third of an adult's weight, giving little signs of actual mass despite its size. It faced Colin with the big smile of its wide mouth, displaying its pointy teeth with disregard to the danger they represented in the human world.
“The World Voice, it is amazing, isn’t it? I asked you something! It’s amazing, right?”
“I don’t know what it is. Sorry. Stay away!” Colin watched the creature reach the floor again, closer to him.
It went to the window from where it came, and put its head out to make a wide search. Its head spun a full circle on its neck, mimicking an owl, and did so twice, until it saw a faint blue glow behind the building they were in. The great pillar of light moved towards the ocean, showing up again in full sight on the horizon.
“Life is hell ... I’m worthless ... why so alone ...”
The creature left the window and sided with Colin at such a speed that he found only time to protect his head with an arm. It had an invitation, though, and not a threat.
“Did you see it? Did you? Come here!” It pushed him with one of its bent limbs to the glass.
“Of course I saw it!” Colin said, walking with reluctance, disgusted by the weird monster's touch.
“Then look again, 'cause it’s beautiful!” It smiled with its big mouth and glittering eyes.
“You said it was horrible. Were you talking about the light?”
“Yes, it’s pure horror, I said, that’s right! Isn’t it?” It laughed at Colin, a proud child wishing for recognition.
“Did the world end because of that thing?” Colin felt his heart grow heavy, burdened by the weight of destruction.
“Yes, that was it! Look at it, it’s changing its path again. So grand, so elegant! What a pretty creation, don’t you think? Huh? Do you agree with me?”
“It’s ... It’s pretty, yes ...” Colin said, illuminated by the blue pillar's glow.
“And look at how it walks the land as the only of its kind. Oh, the sorrow! One big lament that fulfills a whole universe, you see? It is so deep, it’s terror even to me!”
The creature contented itself in admiring the horizon. It locked its eyes at the great distances separating it from the pillar and never abandoned its smile. Left on its own, perhaps Colin could leave the office and look for a safe shelter, were it not for the strangeness of his situation. He'd be in trouble if his new company could read through his body language.
“Do you have a name?” Colin asked.
“I’m so sad ... so alone ... misery is my only friend ...” it said, its face hypnotized by the outer world.
Like him, the creature also repeated the Voice. Its disheveled hair bent down as if rain fell on its strands, a dog’s tail too embarrassed to face its owner. Sad thoughts showered the world, miserable words bathing his mind with clarity enough to put into question its source. Did it come from his mind or from outside?
“I feel this way too ... you’re not alone. Maybe we can work together and help each other. Tell me, what should I call you?” Colin said.
“OOOO,” the creature said, shaking its head to show Colin the full expression on its face. “Like this, OOOO, teeth together,” it added, sliding the separated teeth under its lips, joining them in the right side of its mouth and muttering its name with a demented moan.
“OOOO,” Colin tried, sounding unlike what he heard.
“Yes, yes, you can call me that!” it said, not minding the human’s distorted pronunciation.
“Where do you come from, OOOO?” Colin, uncomfortable trying to reason with the creature, hoped that he could dig his way out of that trap.
“See this world? It’s mine now! Interesting, isn’t it?”
“What world?”
“This one! Terra is gone, poor thing. It was about time, though, wasn't it?”
Colin took one step away from the creature. He looked around the room in search of anything that could be used as a weapon. He found an umbrella in a bucket, a few heavy books on a desk. In Mr. Alden’s room, he knew he'd find a baseball bat.
“You ... You destroyed it?” Colin said.
“If you like this term, yes! Destroyed! Nice, isn’t it? I did it! My turn now!”
“How did you do it? It's such a big world, you know, and you're so small, so ... similar to me. What power did you unleash to do this?” Colin said again, moving slowly towards the boss’ room.
“Isn’t that obvious? The World Voice! My sole creation!” It advanced fast on Colin, making him trip on the now soft floor. “That was the way I found to take Mae out of the stage! She was tired already, wasn’t she? Yes, she was! Only needed a push, Mae, my beloved friend, and the World Voice did it! My idea, wasn't it?”
Colin stood up again, as soon as OOOO went back to the window. He crawled into Mr. Alden’s room. His half-melted computer dripped on the still solid wooden table, its drawers intact. Colin opened them to take the remaining snacks, preparing to survive in that new, terrible world, distracted from miserable thoughts by his tense exchange with OOOO. He then unlocked the cabinet, digging through countless souvenirs to find the baseball bat. The creature entered the room, continuing a speech Colin didn't grasp before.
”—she was into other creations already, you see? It was easy, then, and I took the chance! Good thing to do, wasn’t it?”
“I’m sorry, what? You can keep talking, please, I like to hear you, you just have to recap it a little,” Colin turned his face to OOOO, taken by surprise.
“The new world! You didn’t tell me how much you like it! What do you think?”
“To be honest, it seems a pretty empty place ...”
“You still need to see more of it, don’t you? I can guide you!”
“No, please, I can take care of myself.”
“Well, I’m proud of the Voice! It was the perfect idea to push Mae away, wasn’t it? Did you meet Mae?”
“Mae? No, I don’t know who she is. If she's around, we could go to her. Is she a person, like me?”
“She was Terra’s creator! I took over her world, and now we’re living my creation! Strange that you didn't know that. Amazing, isn’t it? And I like simple ideas, simple but powerful, if you know me. OOOO, ever heard of me?”
Colin stared at the creature, frozen in place, cornered against the cabinet, unable to find anyth
ing to protect himself against a possible attack. It spoke in enigmas, a moving sphinx, a monster whose intentions he could only hint at, whose pointy teeth served no soothing function.
It continued.
“So, I had this idea: the new world is going to be empty, and only one creature will live in it. A human mind, without a body, wandering alone forever and ever. Blind, deaf, without any other sense. A sorrow so deep that even atoms get sad and soften up. Haha, isn’t that funny?”
“Even atoms? Sad atoms, with feelings and all ... You're talking about coming up with new rules to the universe, new basic rules? Sorry if it's too fast, but ... but ... is that possible?” Colin said, astonished.
“In my world that’s possible! Amazing, isn’t it? Tell me!”
“I’m a terrible existence ... so lonely ... nobody wants me ...”
OOOO jumped in fright, hitting the ceiling, and spun around itself when it fell. It peered outside. The pillar of glowing light took over the sky, bringing along the Voice that haunted even the molecules of matter. The creature pressed itself against the wall, sliding to the corner.
“It’s coming this way! Woohoo, here we go again! Let’s go! You don’t want to melt, do you?” it said.
“I don’t!” Colin said.
“Then run!”
“You first!”
OOOO opened the office door and disappeared into the corridor. Colin banged the door behind it, locking himself in the office. He pushed a cabinet standing next to the wall over the window hole, so that OOOO had no chance of getting in again. A Voice sounded strongly in his head, reminding him of the world's abandonment. He had no way out of that nightmare, and it seemed just a matter of time before he melted along with everything else.
The empty office plunged into silence, its computers shutting down at last, the lamps darkening, the air-conditioner turning off. A major blackout took over the world, its dusky darkness pervading the atmosphere, illuminated by a purple sky that showed less flames by the minute, as the fire found little fuel to burn, extinguished by lack of atmosphere. The apocalypse had come and gone, and now Colin walked on the carcass of its victim.
