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How Legends are Made

Part 2

The sunlight streamed partially through the window blinds, landing on John's face as a gentle breeze wafted through a nearby open window. The sweet chirping of songbirds sounded off outside, the rustling of leaves and the occasional whoosh of a vehicle passing by outside added to the small symphony of the current morning. All was peaceful before his alarm clock clicked and started to shout its blaring annoyances. Was it really nine o'clock already?

Beep Beep BEEP BEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEP!

Sighing, John threw his hand at the offending device, slapping it around on his bed table until he found the clock's off button. He hit it as he rolled up to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes and throwing off the covers. He stretched his arms backwards and rubbed his eyes, a yawn coming to him before he could stifle it.

He sat there on the edge of his bed for a moment before standing and walking to the gaping window, the floorboards under him letting out the odd groan. He drew the blinds and looked out on the streets set out below his third floor apartment in Bear Valley. People walked by, going about their daily routines. Some of them had gene projects carrying their things or pushing strollers down the stone sidewalks as they talked on phones or chatted with friends and family. Cars drove by on the street as their drivers enjoyed the warm Sunday morning, no doubt bound for work or places of enjoyment.

John turned from the scene below and he clambered into the shower. When he got out, he shaved before pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He grabbed a pop tart as a snack after he was dressed and took a bite of its somewhat-crunchy form. Strawberry. Not bad. He grabbed the paper that had been placed in front of his apartment door and unfolded it as he settled into a chair at the kitchen table.

He was reading an article on an explosion in a nearby neighbourhood, supposedly caused by one terrorist group or another, when there was a knock at the door. It was probably Jeeves, the landlord's gene whip.

Jeeves was a long-haired Persian cat morph, fittingly named as he served as the building's butler and attendant. Many people thought lowly of him, treating him as an animal fit only for the service of the human race. John had never done so, instead taking a liking to the poor fur. He had slipped him several foods usually forbidden to him on several occasions, even going so far as to hide him in his apartment when Leonard, the landlord, was in a foul mood. In return, Jeeves, or Jay, as he liked to be called, went out of his way to ensure that John's laundry was done and that he wasn't late for work.

"Just a minute!" John called, finishing the last bite of his much-needed pop tart. He sauntered over to the door and glanced through the door lens. It was Jay, a basket of laundry held lazily in his hands. John unlatched the locks and swung the door open. "Come in!"

Jay was about to step into the room but stopped, a look of pain becoming plain on his features. He then crumbled into dust as John watched, his eyes remaining locked onto John's before they became featureless puddles set into ashen sockets. Whatever had struck the fur down seemed to spread, the walls of his white kitchenette hissing as they turned slowly into a thick, dry, grey paste, the cupboards rapidly rotting and the appliances rusting as he watched. The decay spread outwards from the door, soon consuming the entirety of the room. John backed away from it quickly, not wanting to touch the incessant rot. He soon found himself in the bedroom, the last bastion of vibrant life in his apartment. A scream pierced the air as the weather outside grew dark and gunshots began to sound off outside, punctuated by the odd explosion.

A large explosion rocked the building as the sound of tank treads scraping across pavement outside reached his ears. Fire began to cascade through the open bedroom door, spreading around John as he stared in horror at the encroaching blaze. Everything went dark as a piece of falling debris struck him from above and he fell in a heap on the floor. John's eyes fluttered open amidst the powerful heat, a dark silhouette filling his vision. It seemed to be saying something, but only a whisper could be heard over the sounds of death and destruction. He strained his ears, attempting to hear what it said until, finally, he heard it.

"Some people, like you and I, care that this is happening and will seek to stop it. Others... Others just want to kill. To maim. To annihilate. The thin layer of society that kept mankind in check all these years has collapsed, revealing the true horror that lies beneath..."

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*End of preview. Yes, I know it's short, but I don't want to give away the plot now, do I? If you want to see more, you have to get some comments going below. Otherwise, this one stays out of the picture. But now Part One is up! Yay!!*