Chaos: (Remastered 2022 Edition.) The 1st Novel in The Evolution Universe

~Chapter 3: Parker:~

The day started like any other day would for me back then. I snoozed my alarm clock, which sat on my nightstand, half a dozen times before the last annoying blasts of steady echoes fill my bedroom and woke me up for good. Let's rephrase that the echoes filled my entire apartment. A four hundred square foot space that typically only involves boredom. Most of my time spent at home consisted of staring at a blank word document on my laptop and typically at the end of the day the results would be the same as when the day started. Those were the days when I had writer's block non-stop.
       Television couldn't rest my mind. A phone couldn't easy me for a bit of rest. That's because, well, I was just too damn poor.
       I'm not going to lie that's one of the things I miss most from the old world... My computer. Nowadays, if I want to get any writing done I must do it the old fashion way with a good ole pencil/pen and paper. That's if I'm lucky enough to find some. I'm sure that I could've found a computer, at some point, somewhere in this wasteland of a country. There's just a few issues with that. One no electricity to charge it so waste of time; and two, well, I just haven't had the time to search for one. I've been kind of busy constantly saving my ass.
       Well, there I go again jumping forward in the story. I swear my ADHD keeps my scattered brain lock away in its' own world, sometimes. "Dammit, Parker just focus," I tell myself as I wish I could just slap my head to steer it into focusing on one thing. Where were we? Oh yeah right... That annoying ass alarm clock.
       Finally, my ears and brain had enough of the constant waking up every five minutes. I swung my hand over and smashed the top of the alarm clock. It took a second good hit before the damn thing shut up for good. Just for insurance purposes I reached behind the nightstand and unplugged the clock so I didn't have to hear again.
      That morning I didn't want to get up, at all. I had spent most of the night up working on a story idea. I remember not wanting to go to my nine to five job because I wanted to finish outlining, and if I would have known how my day would've turned out I, for sure, would not have gone.
       I hated my day job. I truly don't miss it one bit. All I did was what seemed like pointless things for a boss that knew less than me. Sometimes, I use to think that a middle school child knew more than my boss. I guess, that's what I deserved though since I didn't follow my parent's advice and go to college to study something I enjoyed.
       Oh no, no, no... What did I do instead? I choice to be a hard head, stubborn, know-it-all, rebel teen. I did just the opposite of what my parents suggested. I decided to follow a girl and her dreams right out of high school. I just knew it was going to work out. It had too, right? Wrong. Just as in most cases that relationship didn't work out in the end and I made the wrong choice. Do I regret my decision? No. Do I wish I did something a bit different? Yes. We all make mistakes. But a wise man once told me, "That's how the world evolves. That mistakes are how, we as humans, evolve. We make those mistakes and grow. We have to make mistakes to learn from them or we will never know the wrong decision."
       I, unfortunately, wasn't able to back up and punt. I never returned to school. Not because I didn't want to. College was expensive and I was broker than a doorknob. Maybe, if I would've came to my senses sooner my scholarship would have still been up for grabs. As you come to know me you will realize I have some of the worst luck in the world. For example, that scholarship I spoke of; yeah I missed the deadline by one damn day. That's just how my luck goes though.
       So, now I was stuck working a boring nine to five job that I hated. I didn't care, though, because at that time I strongly believed I would someday write the greatest story ever told. That all had to happen after I began my morning routine.
       I took my, what seemed like hours, long morning piss and headed to the kitchen. Yes, I did wash my hands, thank you. I grabbed a glass of milk and proceeded back to the bathroom where I started running the warm water into the tub. Yes, taking a bath because the apartment complex I live in , at the time, was too cheap to install a shower head; or have a good hot water tank, at that.
       It takes all of about twenty minutes for me to clean my entire body, hop out, and dry before heading back to the kitchen to fix myself a bowl of Captain Crunch All Berries, cereal.
       I make my way downstairs where I'm greeted by a man behind a desk. A very large, unhealthy man. I won't tell him that though because he is my landlord, Mr. Jiggles.
       "You got my rent?" He yelled immediately at the sight of me, taking a break between bites of his donut.
       "I will this afternoon after I get off," I quickly lied, hoping it would keep him off my back.
       "You're already two weeks late. If I don't have it before the morning you mise well pack your shit." I heard the words leave his mouth but I couldn't help but to be fixated on the constant movement of Mr. Jiggles' double chin when he spoked. Never was able to get used to that. It got me every time.
       I nod my head in agreement as I'm about to leave when I catch a glimpse of the television screen behind him. The news was channel on. On the bottom of the screen the words scroll across. Breaking News: China is in Chaos as the outbreak continues. Citizens in Seattle and Miami are becoming sick. Could the U.S. follow China into the Chaos?
       Looking back now I wish I would've watched more of that television, that day. At least, then I would've been a bit more prepared for how fucked up things would become. Honestly, I just thought it was a bad strain of the cold, or mad-cow disease, or anything else other than what it really was.
       But as my luck would have it I was only able to watch very little because I saw the clock on the wall read 8:30 a.m. It typically took me precisely fifteen minutes to get to work. That's if traffic wasn't too bad in Louisville, Kentucky. It was about the time rush hour traffic began. As always though, I manage to get stuck right in the middle of it all. So, that fifteen-minute drive always seemed to turn into a thirty to forty-five-minute drive, instead. Which in my boss's eyes was always a bad thing. Maybe, if I wasn't such a night owl and spent most of my nights staying up till three in the morning my job might not have been on the line at this point.
       I quickly darted out to the parking lot and find my junky, puke-brown 1999 Oldsmobile. I guess, for my first car it wasn't that bad of a car. It just was never that car of my dreams, but it got me from point A to point B; and that was all that really mattered. I suppose about %90 of Americans didn't own the car of their dreams, anyways. So, at least I fit in with society in some category.
       It took a good three good turns of the ignition before my engine finally had fired up and I pulled out of the apartment's parking lot, heading in the direction of my destination.
       After some time I finally arrived at work, Old National Bank. I told you it was a boring job. Either way, it paid the bills and I did what I had to do to in order to survive.
       I parked my car in the back of the lot and dashed through the front doors. I finally clocked in at 9:08. I can still remember thinking how much trouble I was going to be in when my boss found out that I was late, yet again. Luckily though, for once in my life the boss had taken a personal day and I was able to get away with it for once.
       My co-workers, at the time, understood I was having hard times and they would have never ratted me out to the boss.
       I quickly gathered my drawer and headed to my register to await my first customer of the day. The day went pretty smooth for the most part. That is until I left for lunch. Well, more like when I returned from lunch. Typically, I brought my lunch from home, but because I was in the writing zone late the night before and I woke up late I didn't have the time to prepare my lunch for this day. So, I decided to go out and grab something fast. That day was supposed to be a fasting day for me, but my stomach was famished and I never really stuck to my schedule anyways. My stomach had decided on a crispy chicken sandwich from Wendy's.
       I ordered three of them before I headed back to the bank parking lot. I ate in my vehicle because I didn't want to see the inside of the bank more than I had to. On a normal routine day about one o'clock, the bank always seemed to get busier. I assuming because it was lunch hour for other companies. Either way, I hated it because my lunch was always scheduled between twelve to twelve-thirty or twelve-thirty to one. I don't know about everyone else but when I get my belly full I get tired and lazy and don't want to do anything. So, always coming back from lunch and then have to work my hardest part of the day was always annoying. I still think sometimes my boss did it on purpose as a punishment for always being late. Who knows, though.
       Something about that day was different. I didn't notice it, at first, because I was too busy devouring my lunch. After sitting there for a while I began to notice that a dozen or so customers had walked into the bank, but I never saw them return. Their vehicles were still in the parking lot so I was pretty sure I wasn't losing my mind.
       The average time that a customer spent inside our bank was about five minutes. Maybe, ten if we were really busy. Of course, you had your outliers, but for everyone to be in there that long was out of the norm. Some of the first customers I noticed walk-in has been in there for at least twenty minutes. Our boss would shit a brick if he found out. "Maybe, there's a bank robbery going. Ooh, that would be exciting and make for a good book idea. To be able to actually participate in one would've given me an advantage on the details," I remember thinking.
       The idea of it had me excited. I picked up my trash in the car and rushed to the front doors of the bank. Right away, I could sense something was off. For as many people that I had seen walk into the lobby there should've been tons of echos of voices, change falling, and cash being counted out loud back to the customer. So, much noise going on that all the different sounds would merge together and sound like a messed up cassette tape. None of that was the case though. For the most part, I could have probably heard a mouse squeal it was so quiet. Except for one noise. A noise that my ears had never heard before. At least, not in person.
       It sounded, as if, something was being crushed. Not as if a kid was throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of their living room and they finally broke something; like a television or a glass table. No, this wasn't the sound of glass breaking unless someone was walking around on it. This sound was more of someone taking a can and slowly crushing it, or a dog digging its' large, sharp teeth into a bone. As if a tree was being thrown into a woodchipper. It caused my teeth to grind and my ears to ache. Whatever, it was I knew it wasn't something natural. My thoughts knew it and my body definitely knew it.
       At the age of twenty-three, I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the most courageous man. I wouldn't have dove out on a grenade to save a room full of people. I wouldn't have gone to war. I wouldn't have cliff dived; or any kind of outrageous adrenaline type of stunts. At the same time though, at that age, I wasn't afraid of a spooky scene. I had seen plenty of horror movies. I always believed I could've survived a horror film if it was in a real-life situation. Then again, I might've been the first one to die because of something stupid I might've attempted.
       You know that part in literally every horror, thriller, or psychological movie where a character walks towards danger or just stands there, froze? It makes you want to yell, "Run away, dumbass," at the television. Well, looking back I'm yelling at myself because for whatever reason I got the bright idea to allow my curiosity to get the better of me as I wanted to find out where the strange noise was coming from; and where the hell all the customers and workers were. So, right now if I to grade myself on whether I would have survived a horror movie; or not. At that point, I would've betted against myself because that move falls under the category of doing something stupid and I deserved to be killed by the killer.
       I walked with caution deeper into the lobby of the bank. What I saw was unnatural. Inhuman. Every since, I had worked for the bank the walls of the lobby had been painted blue up until about two months ago when our bosses painted it an awful cream-white color. It was a boring idea just about like our boss. That and the headache the smell gave me for weeks. The walls are no longer blue, nor white, nor even a creamish color.
       The walls, the floors, the counters, the computers, the desk, and even the money floating around were stained red. That horror scene about a real-life situation I really wished I hadn't joked about because my eyes were scared at what I saw before me, that day. Every single one of my co-workers was now my former co-workers. They were ripped to pieces. Some of them were barely even recognizable. This was definitely no bank robbery. I wasn't sure how; if I'm being truthfully I didn't really care how they died. I had a pretty good feeling that it had to deal with a gentleman on the red tile floor, kneeling over top of one of my former co-workers.
       The woman I used to work with looked on at me. I could see in her eyes she was already gone. Her eyes gave a blank stare through her motionless glossy, gray, dull, lifeless eyes. I saw nothing but emptiness in them.
       If she was possibly alive I would never understand how considering as I make myself closer to the scene I could see that the man was eating her guts like they were a buffet. Now, I wasn't there when everything started so I couldn't go pointing fingers at the man if he was the cause of it. Then again, I wouldn't want to point my finger anyway because he might have chewed it off in front of me. He was the only person that even looked remotely alive, at all. It had to be him. He had to be the root of that crazy, fucked up scene that store itself in my memory bank as something I would never forget.
       My knees began to tremble out of control as my heart started pounding rapidly out of my chest. At that moment, I was now wishing I took back the part about not being scared of a spooky scene because by this point I was fucking terrified.
       I saw my former co-worker's eye blink real fast. "No way she could be alive, right? If there a chance she was still alive though, I had to help her," I told myself. The one time I decided to be brave whether than listen to my thoughts is the time I did the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life. "S-s-s-s-i-r-r-r," I studdered the words throughout the lobby in a complete nervous tone.
       As the last of the word rolls off my tongue, the cannibal man raised his head from the guts of my former co-worker. He turned to face me. I recognized the man, but barely. It was Mr. Yellow, our boss. He must've came in while I was out for lunch to check on things. Even though, I could recognize him something clearly seemed off about Mr. Yellow. Well, other than the fact that he was just eating one of his workers.
       Mr. Yellow's face and skin appeared to be rotten as it slithered from his bones. A piece of my former co-worker's guts was caught in his teeth as it dangling out his mouth and rubbed against his chin as he moved his mouth. His teeth were as black as coal as a single punch would have knocked them right out. It is truly a good thing I've always had a strong stomach for the nastier scenes in life. If I didn't I would've, for sure, puked all three of those crispy chicken sandwiches I had for lunch back up. Instead, I managed to hold it down before doing my next dumbass act for that day. I began to interact with Mr. Yellow as if he was clearly sane state, right now. Boy was I dumb that day.
      "Mr. Yellow, you alright?" I questioned him. I didn't really care to know why he was eating others, but I did want to get him on my good side so that I wouldn't be next.
       My boss spoke no words. Oh heavens no. Back before Mr. Yellow went well insane you could never get him to shut up long enough to get a word into the conversation. At that moment, though, I wish he would've spoken. Instead, he opens his mouth as if he was going to say something, but all that came out was a deep, low-tone, deathing growl as he stood to his feet. He wasted no time as he began walking towards me with a limp in his step. Blood poured from his wrinkled, worn down hands. More blood slip through his dry, cracked lips as his steps became faster and faster with each one.
       It would have been easy to outrun him, but I'm not proud to say it... I hesitated and couldn't seem to move an inch. My mind was telling me to run before I ended up like everyone else in the bank, but my body refused to follow the command my mind was giving it. Maybe, I truly wouldn't survive a horror movie. I guess, it's one of those things that until you're in the situation you never know how you're going to act.
       Within a matter of seconds, Mr. Yellow was upon me. I had no time to react before Mr. Yellow lashed out at me with his toothpick arms. He snared his teeth together as he tried to sink his teeth into me like all the others. Finally, my body snapped out of its' frozen state and just in time as I put my hands out in front of me to block Mr. Yellow's attack.
       I do my best to hold him off, but the amount of strength Mr. Yellow appeared to have was something supernatural. I had always imagined if I gotten into a fight with the boss I would've been a hero to my co-workers for punching the boss in the face, but Mr. Yellow seemed as if he had hit the gym as he drove me back into one of the desks in the room. Mr. Yellow, me, and everything else on the desk crashed to the floor.
       A hard thud rippled through my spine as I yelled out in pain. The fall didn't appear to phase Mr. Yellow one bit as he didn't stop once at trying to rip my flesh from my bones. He snapped his teeth like a vicious dog at me as his breathe nearly knocked me out cold. Mr. Yellow nearly succeeded before I noticed a pen lying inches from me that must've fell from the desk.
       I'm not sure if it is because I had seen too many scary movies or if it was just pure survival instincts but something triggered inside of me in that moment as I reached out to grab the pen. I struggled to reach it as I had to hold back Mr. Yellow at the same time. Finally, I reached it though just by my fingertips. I gripped in my fist before wasting no time jabbing it straight into Mr. Yellow's right eye. A normal human being would have bleed red like the walls in the bank, but Mr. Yellow began to gush out a grayish-black, thick, tar substance from where I stabbed him. The substance shot out at me and covered me from my chest up.
       I looked into his one good eye left as I stared through it as I could see his soul leave his body. I pushed his corpse off of me and wonder, "What do I do next? Call the cops? Would they even believe me?" Those are the only questions that were able to cross my mind before I heard a devasting noise. An all too familiar noise at that. Still lying on my back I raised my head and looked out to the bank of the lobby. All I saw was my former co-workers that I thought were dead back on their feet. They all now appeared to have the same deadly appearance that Mr. Yellow did.
       I barely handled Mr. Yellow on my own. I knew there was no way I would be able to hand a dozen or so by myself. I quickly stood to my feet and sprinted for the exit of the building before any of them could come close. As I reached the street I'm hit with the biggest surprise of the day. Whatever happened in the bank happened in the city, as well. The streets were flooded with the flesh-eating creatures.
       I saw a clear path to my vehicle. I wasted no time as I saw dozens upon dozens of the creatures closing in on me. I sprinted for safety as I really began to think to myself, "Today, might be my last day on Earth for me. That's if I don't come back as whatever the hell those things are."
       The herd of creatures are growing by the second as I glanced back to see how much distance I had put between them and me. There wasn't much room for error. So, as I turned back around fate would have it that my bad luck would once again strike. I didn't see the curb of the sidewalk as I tripped and fell flat on my face. I heard the low toned growls closing in on me as I knew I was in some serious shit, now.