God is Dead

Lost in the echo

"Fuck. Out of reach.God damn, where the hell are you people?" Ted put down his smart phone for a second and rested his heavy head on his hands. His eyes fixed on the television, not making any sound, as the series of cataclysm plays on the news.

"...declares state of national emergency after the recent chain of explosions in the city of Verngan." Ted reached the remote control resting on the table behind his couch with full arms length. He browsed every damned channel on the receiver to confirm if the news were legit and not just another gimmick of the station.

"High concentration of Uberflak positive from blast sites." was the headline of the next channel in thick, bold and red font with a slim "Dr. Dimayuga" in the middle of an interview.

"Fuck this shit. This can't be happening. This is not good." Ted once again grabbed his phone, stood up, breathing heavily and went out the front door to make a call. It could be Keram. It could be his cousin. It could be his mother. Fuck it. Whoever is important to be called to stay out of the danger zone.

While repeating the call, Ted saw a group of teenagers, mostly girls, panicking across the street. He lowered the phone, squinted, and there was a faint sound of siren at the background. It could be a police car on pursuit, an imminent calamity alarm, or hell, it could be a damned ambulance with a granny strapped in it.

Ted remembered the phone and as he lifted the phone to dial once again, out of nowhere, there was a sudden blow to his head that knocked him out onto the hot concrete.

Motionless and crippled down into the ground. Ted's senses were barely functional except his hearing, and there were loud insane laughs hovering around him. He can't see them but he can hear them clearly even when his eyes were shut.

He struggled to open his eyelids, and as he opened them the sharp piercing pain grew from his right temple. Blood was already dripping down on his pale face. He can taste the salty and unpleasant dirt from the concrete. He sluggishly stood with poor coordination. Grabbed on the fixed fence at his door to maintain balance and looked through the front window of his house.

He saw a group of youngsters ransacking his house from inside. They're at their late teens or early 20s. 3 boys were busy rummaging through the drawers of the kitchen and the fridge, another boy with a messy, long, damp hair and skull-tatted face ran down the stairs from the bedroom floor. He laughed hysterically like a hyena after finding Ted's G-36k rifle from under his bed.

"You sons of bitches. Not in my house, and not your hands on my girls(referring to his guns)." muttered Ted to himself as he stealth walked around the house.

He grab the a light crowbar from his tool stash in the garage and peeked by the open door to check if there were intruders around.

Yes, he found one, quite busy and separated from others at the living room and kitchen. Perfect time to strike at this poor bastard for messing up with the wrong house.

He went in through the garage door, sneaked up the stairs and taunted the lone guy holding the brass knuckle he bought from the recent game expo event.

"Psst!"

"Huh?" the lone guy looked out with confusion on his face.

"You won't be able to use that."

Just as he was about to cock the pistol he stole, Ted struck the guy's head solid with the crowbar and caught the guy's temple. Enough to make a loud clank that startled the guys nearby.

"Lights out, tweety bird." silent mock by Ted at the unconscious guy.

"Jed! What the fuck are you doing in there? Are you a'right? Get your ass up here. Let's shop in the next house." A loud voice must've came from the same laughing hyena earlier. Ted can clearly hear the stomp of the guys coming up the stairs to check this tweety bird, "Jed" up.

Ted commando-crawled into his bedroom and slipped under his bed. There he opened a small steel case with pistols and 9mm ammo mixed up with gloves, holsters and some firecrackers.

"Ram, you fucking dick, when will you learn to put things into order after using them." whined Ted as he loads rounds on a mag,

"Whoever the fuck's in this house! Thanks for the cool ass toys you got here. We might as well have your food for a take out."

Ted slipped the mag in, cocked it and safety's off.

"Well.. Sorry, my ass-loving customers, but this store's closed. I suggest you do not leave your valuables around, and get the fuck out of my house."

He pressed his head back lightly against the wall of the bedroom, lit up several firecrackers and tossed it in the hallway.

"Hahaha.. You're fu----" The hyena-laughing guy hadn't finished his sentence and the firecrackers thundered along the hallway. The guys spray fired all over the house wrecking everything: glassware, wooden furnitures, figurines, wall displays,lamps, doors, everything in the line of fire until they run out of ammo. Debris after debris, flew everywhere, mostly glass and wood like a sandstorm. Scratch that, it was glass-wood-storm. Whatever pun you intended. :/

"You asked for it!" Ted stormed in and shot at the upper and lower limbs of every intruder while they were taking time to reload.

"No, please. Don't kill me." now the dick-head cried, just as hard as he was laughing like a hyena on meth earlier.

"Stupid kids. I could've killed your sorry-asses for trespassing this place. You could've knocked and asked politely." Ted emptied the barrel of his pistol and placed them with respect on the table.

"Now, kids here's the first rule in handling a gun." Ted ducked down at the wounded kids to teach them something. At his mercy. 

"Sir, please. We just want to survive the zombie apocal-"

"Now.. Shhh.---shhh...." Ted pressed his fingers hard onto the lips of the kid who's stuttering and curling inward in agony.

"I'm not finished yet,"duuuude!" Don't you know that it's rude to interrupt someone who's speaking?"

Ted looked at his G-36k rifle with pity. "You kids really have to play with other toys except this girl. Now, where was I?" He walked over them and unstrapped his G-36 off the other kid.

"Oh, yes! First rule in handling a gun." He smacked the mag in correctly and cocked the first ammo down the barrel.

"You always treat a gun like it's loaded...... WITH RESPECT!"

He turned about, grabbed the holed chair, sat down and raised both of his legs on the table with his rifle resting on his lap.

He raised his left arm to glance at his wrist and said, "You shitful of diapered babies have exactly 60 seconds to drag your sorry ass out of that gate before I bury your carcasses beside my dead dog in my backyard."

They started crawling in agony like maltreated and leg-severed dogs. They rolled off the stairs, not minding hitting anything along their path and, "Time's up!" Ted stood up, followed them down the stairs, lifted his rifle aiming everywhere around them and started firing.

"HAHAHAHA!! Payback's a bitch, bastards! You came in the wrong hood, motha-fuckers!" Ted fired continuously until the last round and laughed while imitating Samuel Jackson's accent.

They fled for their lives and almost got ran over by racing cars down the road.

"What a crazy fucked-up road!" sighed Ted. It didn't seem to affect him. What a humour in the middle of a wrong time.

He walked groggily back in and towards the fucked up fridge. Just as he was about to open the fridge door, he paused as he remembered the hyena-kid.
"Zombie apocalypse?" with a peering look on his face.

"That kid is playing too much video games." He just smirked and opened the fridge.

A can of Coca-cola is still intact. "Ohh well.. A sweet treat for this fucked up day, I guess."

Excited, he grabbed the can and opened it with a fizz.

The soda bubbled out loud thick foam and sprayed all over his shirt and mostly to his eye.

"FUUUUUCKING GREAT!" He smashed the can against the wall.

--------------------------------END OF CHAPTER------------------------------------------------------------