Chapter 3: Day 1 Damien
"In the grand scheme of things...shut up."
I'm gonna assume that curly wasted your time with some huge tale of how he began his part of the adventure with golden sparks of holy bad-ass flying out of his ass, an M60 in one hand and a bitch in the other? Well I guess that's not a good story, is it? It needs development, conflict, and maybe a saucy romance. But we'll get to that later. For now, let's get my first day out of the way so we can move on.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BE- I smashed the snooze button on my alarm and let one eye open up to see the sunlight slowly drifting into the room through closed blinds. With a groan, I hauled myself up and pushed the sleep button of the little, plastic noisemaker and checked the time. "twelve thirty-four, shit…curly's probably gonna be pissed at me."
I looked over at my phone, halfway over the side of my nightstand, and checked for messages. He had sent three messages, two saying I needed to get up, and one at the end saying I'm an asshole. Seemed legit. Not that I cared. He had strong-armed me into joining him at some festival in the park down the street. No thanks. But he wouldn't hear it, so I finally agreed to join him.
...But I appeared to have missed it.
Whatever, I jump out of bed, throw on some mostly clean clothes,(Today's special calls for a slightly tattered long-sleeve and some blue jeans!), and leave my room. Nothing special about it. Just painted blue walls, a ceiling fan,...a bed. Normal. It was a cloudy day outside, surprisingly, even though they had said Saturday would just be sun and blue sky. I shrug it off and go downstairs, pushing on some shoes, or steel toes, in my case, and left the house.
"Damien?" I catch a curse in my throat, Dad wanted something. Or at least the term is dad. He hasn't exactly been carrying the title to well. "YEA?" I call out into the house, since he's likely back upstairs, hard at work doing...blank. "Don't use that tone with me, now get your ass back here soon! We're gonna be going out to work in about an hour!" "You fired me a-" "Did you hear me??" Another caught curse. "I said you fired me after I quit, remember?" "Whatever. Get back here QUICK."
I close the door, don't bother locking.
Looking back on it, I'm glad he had pissed me off that day since that gave me the motivation to avoid the house long enough. Anyway, I get walking. I feel the warm breeze against my hair and the cracked pavement beneath my feet. I was so annoyed with him, I could barely look ahead, I just eyed the ground and wished it could melt under my gaze. As an afterthought, I took out my earbuds, put them in place, and turned up my music on my phone to it's highest volume.
I gotta admit, I didn't expect things to look like hell had hit the ground when I looked up at the turnoff to the store I went to for drinks. Well, one side at least. The apartment buildings off to my side were burning. bright. I had to admit, it was a bit intimidating to see. I saw people in the buildings, breaking windows and lots of screaming and gunfire. Hell, the smoke seemed to curl up and mix with the sky, like the storm had touched down on this one area. I shook myself out of the daze I began to feel from trying to peer into the ground level, which was impossible due to the high fences, the smoke blocked my view of the park. Bet now curly can be too mad, there no way I'm walking threw that. But at the same time, he really good at poking holes in my excuses. Bet he still chews me out. I started walking again, wondering if I could get a look when I pass the entrance.
Two minutes later, and I saw the entrance, which was also burning against the asphalt driveway. I saw shadows running in and out of the flames, likely looters and other rioters who were trying to loot things before the place burned. I looked back ahead of me and tried to focus on my tunes, thinking the fire department or something would clear all this up. By the time I had gotten to the store, the flames had visibly gotten worse. I could see it had spread over the fences in patches. In fact, it seemed like it was starting to engulf the horizons, since everything had an orange tint at the edge of vision, despite being around noon. I just shrugged it off reluctantly, assuming that the fire was just making the effect since it was burning fairly bright against the wood of the apartments. I'd need to hurry up and get back home before it cut off the street.
The store was empty, to my surprise. The door was unlocked, and everything seemed intact, save for the fact that the glass case keeping the knives and bongs had been smashed. I called out for the cashier, which was met with an eerie silence. I could hear the faint echo of sirens in the distance. I looked about it. The gas station across the street was closed. So was the church's chicken. Probably cause of the flames and riots. Knew they'd deal with this mess eventually. So, with my rationalization, I grabbed two really cool looking pocket knives, one had a scorpion grip, the other had a grenade grip, scooped up a bag of chips, three 2 liter sodas, bagged them, and started walking, thankful that the fire hadn't made walking impossible. That didn't stop me from jogging all the way back to the entrance to my neighborhood. I noticed the fire had spread across to the church, since the view was visible from my position, and I also noticed a couple of houses already burnt to the ground in my own neighborhood.
I blinked and ran back to my house, all previous anger forgotten. I needed to get all my valuables packed up encase flames reached my own place. I managed to even make it a few meters away from the house in a short time period. I was centimeters from the curve when a bright flash blinded me and I fell back on my ass. My head bounced off the cement. Och. Then this heat way raced over me. Covering myself with my arms balled up turtle shell style was the only thing I could think to do. So I did, after what seemed like a lifetime it ends. I opened my eyes they stung, it was a weird feeling that surged through my body from my eyes to the rest of me, like a ripple against my soul. It took me a moment to realize I was coughing violently from something that was painful to breathe in. Smoke…
Smoke was all around me, and so was flames and wreckage. My whole neighborhood had been completely flattened! I turn my fuzzy gaze to where my house once stood, Seeing it had been one of the few slightly luckier ones. Most houses were now piles of smoldering rubble, but mine, and a few ones in the distance, made mostly out of brick and cement, were standing, but upon close inspection, were still fairly useless. My house still had its basic structure, but most of the roof had caved in, and the entire place was slanted on a chunk of ground that had been disheveled. Wincing in pain I notice I was damn lucky. My shirt was steaming. My right arm was chard across my forearm and bicep, up to my shoulder. My ankle was also slightly chard. Looking around I notice whatever went off was some ways toward the back of my neighborhood. The shocking way is probably what knocked me down, saving my life. There might be a god cause that definitely a miracle. What else could have the debris to build a makeshift barricade in front of me? Whatever it was it was scorched beyond recognition.
With worry blocking out the pain I'd probably feel from the light singing on my skin, choking smoke, burning eyes, and strained muscles from impact, I made my way to the house. The front door had been blown off its hinges, so I just went right inside and looked around for my folks. My mother had been crushed under what was once the small shed out in the backyard, and my father had burned to death. Not pretty pictures, either of them. I even felt a bit sad for my mother, who had at least tried to raise me with care. Not so much my father, who I simply shrugged off with a grimace. Good riddance.
I set the bag on the counter in the barely intact kitchen, grabbed a backpack from my garage, and stocked up on food and water. I knew I'd be a loner for at least a little while. A window smashed outside. I peek my head out of the already broken window of the kitchen and look for the source. I noticed that the same shapes were looting the apartments were here now. I see the dark figures running through the wreckage and flames without care. I don't hear any gunfire or screaming now though. Just the deafeningly loud crackle of burning everything, and the building heat around my house. With the lovely sound of collapsing structures as the only other sound to listening ears.
Almost instinctively, I grab the knives I had stolen and put them in my back pocket. I also grab a fairly large kitchen knife and slide it snugly into the side pocket of my jeans, just encase I really needed to fight for my life. Oh! and a bayonet. We had one of those too. Mine! Though it was a rusted display item is still a sword. And with a backpack of supplies, three knives, a sword, and a warm Dr.Pepper in hand, I walk out front into the wastelands that made up my old home.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
xoas
xoas Character two.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone