Dammit Dylan

Chapter 4: This is Chapter 4

Dylan Gunn held back a tear as he thought of his old life. So peaceful. So full of passion. He'd taken pride in his job as a pizza delivery boy... until that fateful evening call...

But he couldn't think of that now. He had research to do.

Stuff needed to be realized.

Things needed to happen.

Life needed... to be... lived. Lived in the manliest way possible. 

With giant shotguns that he borrowed from his mother.

Still, he missed all the free pizza.

Dylan began walking along Bobby's shelves. He no longer remembered what book he'd been reaching for but soon he stumbled across some self-help books. 

Dylan was always confused by this section. He helped himself all the time and yet Bobby always suggested these books to him. Still, with the seals breaking all across the world... maybe he could learn to help himself more.

Dylan flipped open a newer looking paperback: 'Chicken Soup for the Man's Soul'. He read for a full twenty seconds before closing the cover and nodding vigorously. He put the book in his pocket for later. It fell out onto the floor a moment later. He didn't notice. 

The remaining books held nothing of interest for Dylan. After looking over all the shelves one last time, he gave a robust shake of his manly mane and crossed his arms. 

"Something wrong, Gunn?" Bobby called grumpily. He'd failed to salvage the front steps and returned for a beer. 

"Nothing here has what we need." 

"Well, its a bit of a new problem," Bobby said drily. "What were you hoping to find?"

"I don't know. A gun that can shoot angels?" Dylan threw out, stroking his chiseled chin. 

Bobby laughed. "Not in this universe."

Dylan gasped.

"Dylan... Dammit, Dylan... Stop. Whatever you're thinking just stop."

"We need another universe!"

"Dammit Dylan."

...

7 Years Earlier

Seven years earlier, Dylan was just as manly and, also, seven years younger. It seemed impossible that such a large, muscular college man could fit in the tiny pizza truck he drove but Dylan managed nonetheless, a large pile of pizza boxes keeping him company. The pile grew smaller as the night grew darker around him until there was but One Pizza Left.

The pizza that would change his life forever.

It was also late.

Dylan pulled up to the lone house and determinedly switched his truck to park, one hand reaching for the door and the other for a pizza they'd almost forgotten to make. He'd almost forgotten to make. 

But he strode forth, moving toward the end of his quest. Soon the pizza would be where it belonged and he would be back for another round of deliveries.

Every shadow seemed to follow him as he moved undaunted up the drive of the house. Someone else might have wondered why there were no lights on in the house but Dylan Gunn had other, greater things on his mind. A light breeze made him stop and unbutton his jacket, revealing his low t-shirt and his strapping chest. 

Dylan arrived at the door and looked politely for the doorbell. A moment of valiant searching and he'd found it, ringing it and stepping back to stand tall on the stoop. 

A light flicked on inside, then back off again. 

A voice called from somewhere far off.

"Come in."

Dylan tried the door.

It was stuck. 

He gently set down the pizza, steadied himself, and charged forward.

The door shattered before him into shards of wood and glass, no fight at all for a man like Dylan Gunn. 

Now in the hallway, Dylan brushed himself off. He stepped back outside to retrieve the pizza and then began his search through the house, calling as he went.

"Pizza. Hello? I have your pizza?"

No answer. Just creaks and more darkness.

Dylan took a deep, deep breath into his strong lungs and let out a bellow.

"PIZZA."

A whisper or maybe a creak, it was too quiet to tell. Dylan turned around to see what it was.

It was a man. 

Staring up at him.

The man's eyes were glowing above his crooked,bloody smile.

Dylan held out the pizza. 

"Sorry about the wait. My bad!"

The man leapt for his throat.