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“Ms. Hellen—”
“Shh. I see it.”
Hellen froze, half outside of the stairwell, door pushed partly open. They both saw it. A figure in the hall. It hadn’t noticed them yet. It stood there, swaying in place, twitching occasionally. Countless white-yellow growths sprouted from its arm and tore through its sleeve up to its chest. Teeth.
Hellen nodded to Sophie and she reached for her pocket.
With practiced accuracy, a marble shot through the air and past the figure and struck the ceiling a few feet ahead of it. It looked up and began to pant. Its arm salivated.
Hellen advanced, released the door for Sophie to hold, and raised her cleaver. The monster merely examined the ground where Sophie’s marble dropped, head cocked, as if it didn’t know what it was. She felt shed teeth under her boots as she neared.
Her blade hit the thing’s skull with a sharp crack and it wheeled around with wild, unfocused eyes, stumbling and gasping. It raised its mangled arm to swing, but was too slow and uncoordinated. She quickly struck again, blade angled at its throat, and hit true. It crumpled like a marionette cut from its strings.
Another hit, then another, and it stopped moving. Blood welled up in its caved-in cranium.
Sophie crept up beside Hellen to fetch her marble. “...ew.”
“Be alert.”
She plucked her bloodied marble off the ground and tucked it into her pocket along with her slingshot. “Where’d he come from?”
She glanced around. A few apartment doors were open, cracked outwards. Whatever was inside escaped. “Not sure. There might be more.”
Sophie mimicked her squared, ready posture and nodded firmly. Brave girl. She stayed behind Hellen as they faced the third floor hall.
Okay, first impressions: It sucked. The dead mutant under them didn’t help.
The first two doors greeted her: One had an abomination of barbed wire and thread sitting outside the door. The other’s door was painted with bright blue letters spelling HELP YOU.
Sophie stood up on her tip-toes to whisper, “I don’t think the people in there are gonna help us.”
“Mm…”
The statue didn’t move. Hellen didn’t risk touching it, but she urged Sophie to give it a wide berth as they passed. Its head grazed the ceiling. She maintained eye contact until they were past it.
Apartment 32’s door was one of the open doors. She heard sounds from inside—warbling, or scuttling. Just looking into the pitch black room made her skin crawl.
Apartment 33’s door was shut. Hellen glanced around. Other than that sculpture, they were alone in the hallway. Hellen knocked.
It was always good to check for others sane. Sometimes people answered. If Hellen was lucky, they’d be willing to trade for something they were short on at the time. Medicine, food, clothing, even photo paper from a peculiar photographer.
She waited a moment for a response. To be polite, she knocked again, louder. When nothing answered, she stepped back to let Sophie do the honors.
The girl bounced on her heels as she pulled a ring of lockpicks from one of her pockets. She made quick work of the door. She was getting good at that.
Hellen stared it down as if it threatened them, gripping her cleaver. She heard nothing. If there was anything in there, it would’ve heard the knocking and come to investigate the noise, even if it couldn’t open doors.
The door creaked open. The lights were off. Hellen loomed behind Sophie when they entered, and quietly shut and re-locked the door behind them, in case any errant wanderers heard them and knew how to open doors.
Dust hung heavy in the air.
“Nobody’s been here for days.” But there was furniture, so it wasn’t an unrented unit. Most likely, the sorry soul who lived there was outside when the world ended. More for her and Sophie, then.
There wasn’t much in the fridge, but Hellen welcomed the frozen vegetables to have a semblance of a healthy meal with later. She left it in there to keep it frozen; they’d grab it on their way out, or just stay in the apartment for lunch. There was a first-aid kit in the bathroom. Sophie raided the owner’s slim game collection. Just the two of them combing through the space, with nothing other than each other stirring the air.
And that almost-peaceful lull was exactly why Hellen nearly jumped out of her skin when she opened the bedroom door and saw sunlight.
She nearly kicked Sophie to get her out of the way. “Back. Back up,” she said firmly, shooing her away from the doorway. “The window’s open.”
“I didn’t look!” She held her hands up as if interrogated, eyes huge. “I won’t, I swear!”
She knew, of course, that Sophie would never look outside. Especially not after they found her mother not long ago, who had made her promise to never look outside, but had not taken her own advice between being separated from Sophie and running into them again. As bad as Hellen felt for the girl for making her watch Hellen strike down her mother, she was comforted with the knowledge Sophie steered clear from windows to the outside. “Wait here.”
Sophie plopped back on the couch. After a second, she turned her back to Hellen for good measure. With a sigh, Hellen stepped into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind her. Then, after some consideration, she locked it.
There was a person at the window.
Like the figure in the hall, its back was turned to her. It was once a short, heavyset man, with wild curly hair and soft clothes, as if it’d woken up not long ago. Its upper body hung out of the window and she couldn’t make out anything immediately wrong with it, other than the fact it was staring outside.
“Oh, God,” a voice said.
For a moment she thought it was the figure. But it came from the side. She looked and met the gaze of a single eye peering through a crack in the wall. “Um.”
“H-hi,” the voice said. The eye’s gaze struggled to hold steady. “Are you the—the sounds I heard earlier?”
Hellen picked her words carefully. The voice spoke coherently, but everything else about her screamed monster, monster, monster. “Yes. I’m just passing through.”
That manic eye flicked across her features. “Are you real?”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, sorry, that was rude to ask. It’s just… you’re the first person I’ve seen in days. Since he… I mean, look at him.” The eye flicked to the man in the window. He hadn’t moved since the conversation began. “I told him to look outside. When he woke up.”
Ah.
“I-I… I wasn’t in my right mind. I’m still not, I think. I’m sorry. Don’t look outside.”
“I already have,” she drawled. Even now, the light filtering past the dead man standing was the most beautiful gold. The eye squinted at her, which she politely ignored. “Is he dangerous?”
“No. I don’t think so. I mean, he hasn’t moved.”
A knock from the door. Sophie’s voice was muffled, but clear. “I hear talking!” she sang.
“It’s nothing!” Hellen called, backing up. “Let me shut the window.”
“Is that a child?” the eye asked, bewildered.
“Yes,” Hellen said tersely. Not her child, but it wasn’t like Sophie had a mother to be returned to anymore. She marched to the figure in the window. She had to move him. Maybe she could throw him out so she could shut the window? She took him by the shoulders to test his response. Nothing.
…was he dead? Not dead-cursed, because he’d been staring outside for however many days now, but dead like a corpse? But he swayed upright when she nudged him. He breathed, maybe? So she gripped him and pulled him back from the window.
And when she pulled his body back, the rest of his internal organs came with.
The voice from the wall cried out in horror and Hellen’s own heart lurched. The body stumbled and crumpled to its knees, but was unable to fall completely. Its face, lolled upward, was gone, a bloody, festering mess.
His body remained upright by the visceral mass escaped through his cranium: A brain, eyes, the spinal cord and all accompanying meters of nerves, tongue, esophagus and lungs, stomach and a meter of following intestine still lodged into the body, heart, and loosely drooping spools of arteries and veins.
The bloodshot eyes stared at her. Somehow, Hellen felt like she’d deeply inconvenienced it.
Her throat closed up. She backed up and reached for her cleaver. The eyes stared.
“Hello?” the voice from the wall meekly called.
It didn’t look to have any hearing apparatus anymore, but its eyes and brain turned in response. Upon turning, it looked out toward the window and went still as it took in the sight. The voice in the wall no longer existed to it.
Its nerves twitched. The nervous system hovered toward the window, drawn to the light like a half-dead moth. The body leaned with it, pulled along, but seemingly unable to stand. It spasmed when the nerves hit the limit of their reach. The tongue, loosely connected to everything else via tendons and thin muscles, twitched, and its shredded esophagus widened, but no sound came out.
Sophie knocked harder.
“I—” Hellen swallowed. She didn’t want to look away from it in case it got pissed off at her for intruding on its viewing. “Just wait a minute.”
“I wanna know what’s going on! Who’s in there?” Then, fiercely, “Is it a monster? I’ll help ya kill it, I promise!”
Should she go ahead and fling the mass out of the window? All due respect to it and its bold choice to abandon its dermis and skeleton, but she did not want to touch all of that twitching offal. And despite its apparent frustration, it seemed harmless. Seemed.
She had a feeling Sophie was a few seconds away from using the lockpick.
Hellen stepped around the visceral heap and felt for the window. Her hand wrapped around its open shutters and she looked away from it only to hastily shut its precious view to the outside. She shut the curtains.
“Can I come in?” Sophie called. The doorknob rattled impatiently. Something clicked. Bastard child.
“Fine, if you really want—”
Sophie swung the door inwards and marched exactly two steps inside before spotting the swaying, agitated organs in the middle of the room. She froze.
The organs were thoroughly displeased with Hellen. Its throat opened and shut at her. The nerves wriggled in the air and the body’s head drooped to the side from its squirming.
“...do I leave?” Sophie whispered, openly disgusted.
“Yes, get out. I’ll be right with you.”
She backed hurriedly out of the room and shut the door.
Hellen stepped around the twitching heap and checked the drawers. Nothing useful. Great. She had half a mind to raid the closet for clean clothes, for Sophie at least, but she didn’t want to linger and test her luck. The nerves seemed to be figuring out what used to belong to hands, and raised twin wispy appendages toward the window.
“W-wait!” the voice in the wall called. “Don’t leave me here with him!”
“You’ve been fine with him up until now—”
“I have not!” she cried. “D-do you have any idea what it’s been like, just—just having him out there? Staring out the window for days? A-and knowing I did that? I told him to look!”
The mass—he, she supposed—pawed at the curtains like a cat demanding entry to a room. It was kind of pathetic. His eyes bumped directly into the fabric and then jerked back at the contact.
Hellen hesitated. She reached for her cleaver. If she were to strike it, she’d make it quick. No skull protected its brain and no rib cage guarded its fluttering heart. Yes, her blade would make quick work of the thing.
“I—I didn’t mean kill him!” the eye admonished. “He’s not in pain? I think? I’m sorry, I just—he’s not hurting anyone.”
Hellen considered this. Her cleaver went untouched. “I can move him, if you’d rather be alone.”
The voice groaned, pained. “He’s the only company I’ve had, even if…”
Indecisive. “Maybe Sophie and I can pay you a visit.” Maybe they could eat with her. Hellen mulled that possibility over. How long had it been anyone other than just her and Sophie? Since they found what became of Sophie’s mother?
“Oh, no, I…” she went quiet. Her voice slurred. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t think you can do that.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I… I don’t think I can leave.” The eye drifted half-shut, disorientated. They watched as the body shuddered, frustrated, and grappled at the curtains with bare nerve endings. They did not exist to him.
“I can kick the door in, if you’re…” Hellen paused to consider her wording. The mysterious woman hadn’t moved. Or, her eye hadn’t moved. Something was wrong with her, and her apartment. Was she fused to the walls? Was she even aware of her own state? “Stuck.”
She was quiet for a while. “...maybe. Let me think about it.”
Hellen nodded curtly.
The body finally over-extended itself and fell over. The organs writhed frantically. The whole thing spasmed like a dying fish on the carpet.
Without a word, Hellen stepped over to him, leaned over, and pulled the curtains open. He stopped squirming.
She knelt and hooked her hands under his arms. She pulled the man upright, feet dragging, until he found his footing. He never once looked at her, guts angled to the window in awe. Once he was standing, she let go.
She found herself standing beside the man. His viscera fell over his own skin and clothes, settled low. He didn’t move to open the window, but hovered very close, staring out. She did the same.
She looked outside. It was just as beautiful as the day the world ended.
It felt like being placed under a warm blanket. It was midday. Smoke from burning buildings billowed into the air. Things perched atop skyscrapers and flew from rooftops, but nothing truly obscured the sky. The sky.
It was beautiful. She lacked the words to describe it. So, so beautiful. She barely heard herself sigh as every aching muscle in her body went slack. Very, very beautiful. It wrapped her in its warmth, just like the first time she saw it, melting through her skin like flame through candle wax, opening her up and filling her shell of a body with something terrible.
She had nothing more to give it, so that beautiful nightmare peeled instead at the layers of her mind, combing it apart. She didn’t need to do anything but watch and let herself be unwound inside and out.
The man had the right idea, dedicating his existence to standing and admiring the glory of the end.
It would be a good idea to remove her mask. Show more eyes. To see more. That would work, right? Her hand raised and her head lowered, muscle memory playing out more than conscious thought. She looked at her companion as she reached for the buckle holding her mask in place and her mind slipped from that glory’s hooks for the briefest moment—
Knocking at the door. Voices.
From the wall: “—are you doing?!”
From beyond the door: “Helllleeeeen?”
The world rushed back into her senses. She shook her head harshly and smoothed her hands over her mask, still safely secured to what was left of her face. Her heart rate picked up and lurched into her throat.
Again , her mind hissed. One last look at that beauty. One more moment of being worked into empty skin. She groaned. The vision of it burned into every single one of her retinas. She pressed her palms to her mask’s eye sockets.
“Oh, good. Are you alright?” the wall voice asked.
She nodded stiffly. Tension returned, making her miss that thoughtless peace all the more. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” She stumbled back from the window and toward the door. Hellen couldn’t do that again. Sophie was waiting for her. “I’m coming,” she croaked. “Stand back from the door. Don’t look.”
“O-okay!” She sounded surprised Hellen replied. How much time had passed?
“Wait—Hellen, is it?” the voice interrupted. “I… go ahead and, um, break in. I think… my door’s locked? I can’t open it.” A little more tense, she added, “I-it’s not right. I think I’m afraid.”
“Alright.” Something to focus on. “We’ll be right there.”
She risked a glance—just the briefest look—at the man. He hadn’t moved. At least he was enjoying the view. Maybe it felt good to shed all that useless flesh to bask his bare innards in the light.
Dizzy, Hellen pushed the bedroom door open. She stepped out and slammed it shut behind her.
Sophie was there. “Are you okay?!” she demanded, trying to put on a brave face, but clearly frightened. She looked Hellen over and seemed relieved there wasn’t any blood or sign of injury.
“Fine,” she muttered. “Give me a moment.”
Sophie crowded her as Hellen leaned against the back of the couch. She pressed her head into her hand. “Did ya get the monster?”
“Still in there,” she grunted. She welcomed Sophie’s stream of questions even if it made her head pound. It chased away the remnants of the light. “He’s harmless.”
“Oh! Was he mad we broke in?”
“No, no…” She straightened up. She had to keep it together. Already, the memory of outside faded into a pleasant dream. It cloyed her thoughts but she had more important things to do than stare into the end of the world until she fell apart. “He’s incoherent. I left him be. I was speaking with his neighbor. We’re paying her a visit.”
Sophie stammered out more questions, but Hellen was already moving. “But I’m hungryyy—”
“We’ll make sure she’s alright and then we can eat. Maybe she’ll eat with us if she’s nice enough. Does that sound good?” Even though it wasn’t really a question. They were doing it. Hellen would welcome distance between her and outside. Anything at all to get them moving and doing something. Even if it meant breaking into the apartment of a willing stranger.
Placated, Sophie nodded. Hellen kept a hand on her shoulder, as if the girl would vanish if she didn’t hold onto her. She looked up at her strangely, but didn’t protest. Yes, Hellen would keep a careful eye on her. The strange neighbor could end up dangerous, but if so, they’d deal with it.
Better than looking outside.