The Apocalypse | The Umbrella Academy

i.

On the first day of October, 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual in the way that none of them were pregnant when the day first began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of these children as possible. He got eight of them.

*

She was slumped against the alley corner, hazy from all the drugs and drink. Drugs? She couldn't remember taking any. That's right. The guy who bought her drink, much to her protest. He'd spiked her drink when her back was turned. Why did she even allow him near her? Should've fire-balled his ass. She giggled, imagining him running around with his actual ass on fire. She wondered why she even lead him on. She didn't even like men. Men were bad, men were mean. All the men in her life had abused her, physically, mentally, verbally, much like her 'father'. She found it easier around women instead, their beauty intoxicating. Like her fiancèe, now dead. She found herself wishing that was her fate, death. She felt dead. The drugs were starting to paralyse her. What the hell did he put in that drink?

"What'd you doing there?" A man's voice filled her ears. She shifted her eyes to look at him. It was the guy who'd drugged her. Not him, anyone but him. "I thought you'd be scurrying to your stupid family by now," he gave a fake smile and kicked her leg. She looked at him with a gaze of fury and tried to summon a fire-ball. She only managed to get sparks. Stupid drugs. The man walked even closer towards her, then slapped her across her face, sending light-blue hair flying. When bent over in that position, she was sick, repulsing the man. Blue lights flashed towards the alley, making the unknown man scurry.

The woman sat up, clutching her stomach. The blue lights sped towards her, then all went black. This is Number Zero, Evelyn.

*

The alarm blared into his ear, reading 23:28. He grumpily turned it off and got up out of his bed. His big, uneven body filled up most of the room, towering over almost everything else. He went to go down the narrow hallway, but had to turn sideways to fit his massive torso through it. Once through, he sleepily grumbled while watering the singular green plant in the kitchen area. He then pulled on a heavy spacesuit, attaching the helmet last before he stepped out of the small carrier.

He bounced when he walked, gravity was weak on the moon. Grey rock surrounded everything. He managed to walk towards a storage unit, mounds of parcels bound in canvas bags. These were supposed to be delivered to Earth pretty soon. He carefully placed another canvas-parcel into the heap and walked to a flat surface, a chair already set up to watch the Earth steadily rising. This is Number One, Luther.

*

"Show me the safe!" The man yelled. "Or your family die." The man yelling held another man, shaking, a hostage. The hostage looked towards his family, they were bound, their mouths covered in duct tape. They made protesting noises, tears wet on their cheeks.

The robber pushed the hostage into a room, past a window where a masked man stood. He smashed through the window, taking out the robbers one by one. The masked man threw knives, pushed the robbers against the walls and the hostages squealed in further fear.

The masked man stood victorious, looking at the hostages. This is Number Two, Diego.

*

A woman stood, a red velvet dress hugging her hips. The diamond necklace she was wearing gleamed in the light. She pasted on a smile and walked onto the red carpet, a premier screen behind her. She posed for the cameras, one at a time, her left hand on her hip. She loved posing for the cameras, filming, just anything. A tattoo of an umbrella in a circle highlighted her left arm. This is Number Three, Allison.

*

"Stay strong, man. I believe in you," a man said, eyeliner caked underneath his eyes, as he slipped off of a bunkbed. "Not so much you, though," he chuckled as he pointed to a different person. He walked quickly out of the room, an air of comedy and humour around him. He wore a black feather jacket and leather trousers with cords laced up the side.

"See you soon, Klaus," the receptionist said, handing him a gold coin with the number 80 on it. "Stay sober," he droned as the man walked backwards, kissing the coin. This is Number Four, Klaus.

*

A woman played the violin with passion as a rock chorus kicks in. The stage and stadium was completely blacked out, only a spotlight on her. She played for five minutes before she stopped. The lights turned on to show the stadium was completely empty. The woman sighed and packed up her stuff. Number Seven, Vanya.

*

Evelyn woke up in hospital. The sheets were cold which made her shiver. Her rocker outfit was replaced with a thin hospital gown. She sighed and turned to the television, placed high upon the wall. The news bore into her brain and she sat there silently.

*

Luther looked at Earth when he looked down at his left arm. A small screen embedded into the spacesuit said Incoming Transmission. He looked at the message quickly, then looked back at Earth, unsure of what to do.

*

"You're safe now," Diego said to the hostages after picking up a blood-encrusted knife. Diego stood in triumph, then walked around the small apartment. The television said, "Breaking news," and his attention automatically shifted onto that.

*

Klaus quickly bought drugs off a shady guy in an alley, despite just being in rehab. Within a matter of minutes, an ambulance picked him up and a paramedic had to shock his heart. He sat up, removing the oxygen mask and high-fived the paramedic while showcasing a rock-star grin. The television blared the breaking news.

*

Vanya walked along the pavement, stopping at a store. All of the televisions in the store said the same news. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, dead. "Dad," Vanya said, sadness in her voice.