My Dull Life

Chapter 3: Change in Scenery

 

Life was the same as always for the next few weeks. Stacy, Jo and I jeered at Shaun and John every time we passed them by. They were always sucking at each other's face, rubbing it in Stacy's face that they'd both turned gay after dating her. She seemed to have made a full recovery though, and had men falling all over themselves to ask the now single blonde for a date.

Jo's parents had gone ahead with their divorce, and was already planning their second marriage after her dad had invaded one of Jo and her mum's girl nights at the local fancy Italian restaurant, and proposed to her in a super romantic, super embarrassing manner. Stacy and I had a good laugh about that one.

Things remained as they always had. Somewhat boring, but normal. I woke up everyday, repeated the same routine as the day before, with some minor differences – like sometimes watching the little conspiracy shows that my paranoid dad always watched. Things always seemed way too normal to be normal for him – but generally life went on.

This was, of course, before the invasion happened.

The day of the invasion was a Sunday. The day God declared a rest day, which I found ironic.

Stacy and Jo had invited me to go into the city, a mere ten minutes away from our neighborhood and just hang out. I couldn't, what with my religious mother insisting I go to church and listen to the sermon. My dad wasn't as pious as my mum, but he went with her anyway, and I was told to go along so I could beg God for forgiveness for my sinful ways. All teenagers were sinful to my mother.

We returned home after the sermon, and I decided to finish off my homework. The first sign of the invasion that I got was a text message from Stacy, who told me that things were weird in the city. I had only managed to text back “Weird, how?” when a furry, furry man tackled a woman in my street, ripped off her clothes, and started to rut her like the wild animal he seemed to be. A man in the same street started to try and pull him off the screaming woman, when another thin creature that had to be seven feet tall at least, with huge black eyes and wings like a dragonfly's grabbed the man by his throat, choking him, then ripped his head off as if he was a paper doll.

I stared at the scene in shock. I hated scary movies. Gorey movies I could take most of the time, but this seemed so real, so convincing, that I rushed to my toilet to puke my guts out. That's where my dad found me, hunched over a toilet bowl. He pulled me off the toilet bowl, and led me through the house. As we passed the living room windows, I gasped as I saw all manners of grotesque creatures running through the streets, most of them covered in blood, and humping random women, and even some men that they found. Incessant screams filled my neighborhood, and I followed my dad quickly.

He led me into the backyard and we crawled under a bush where a small trapdoor lay open. The bomb shelter. My dad was extremely paranoid, as I may have already mentioned. The bomb shelter was the whole reason he bought the house. He believed that we have had peaceful times for too long, and the bomb shelter was bound to come in handy someday. If not for his family, then for one of the future generations. It was hidden behind quite a bit of foliage, and the door itself was camouflaged so that it was near impossible to find. It was built by someone as paranoid as my dad, of that I was sure.

But that paranoia was coming in handy now.

He closed the doors, and I quickly descended into the underground room. It was small. A single room which contained a worn couch, a double bed to the side, a small, old TV and a bookcase. Somewhere to the side was a tiny kitchen corner. It had a stove with a hood, but we would avoid using that, I was sure, in case of detection. The cupboards were stocked with a multitude of can food. There was a bathroom opposite the kitchen which housed a sink and a toilet bowl.

I found my mum huddled at one corner, praying frantically and holding onto Mo, rocking herself back and forth. As soon as Mo saw me, she ran to me and whined.

“It's okay,” I told her absent-mindedly, running a hand through her fur. She whined again and butted her head into my palm, distressed beyond words. “What's going on?” I asked my parents.

“Demons,” My mother gasped. “Demons running rampant around town. Oh God, our father in heaven, hallowed be thy name...”

“I don't know,” my father told me. “It could be that the government were running these genetic experiments and they'd gone wild and are killing people in the street,” My father theorized. Both explanations seemed fair to me.

I wondered if Stacy and Jo were okay. I checked my phone. No new text messages. I couldn't get reception down in the bomb shelter anyway. But to be safe, I turned off my phone and pulled out my batteries as my dad suggested. We didn't want to give them any way to find us.

My dad turned on the TV, and for a moment I wondered if it was okay to do so, but he assured me it was fine.

The channels were filled with news of what was happening. Helicopters flew around the cities, cameras getting glimpses of the chaos around the area. One camera was live when a small creature with blades for hair and hands sliced the cameraman into pieces, allowing blood to splatter all over the camera lens. I resisted the urge to throw up again.

It seemed like mainly the country in which we lived was getting the brunt of the damage. And the worst was in our area. Politicians assured us that everything was going to be fine, they were working on it, and urged us in the affected area to try to find somewhere to hide.

The news got so horrifying that at some point my mother started screaming. My father shut off the TV abruptly, and tried to comfort his wife. My eyes were glued to the blank screen, my hands still stroking Mo but my thoughts were all over the place.

It had to be a nightmare. These things didn't happen. Especially not to me.

The next day my mother asked for us to turn on the TV again. As scared as she was, she was also hopeful. She'd hoped that a day was enough for God to cleanse the world of these monsters. Dad and I were doubtful, but we turned on the TV.

Things had gotten worse. Half the channels were gone. People had abandoned TV stations, and taken cover. One channel just played a loop of a panicked message of a woman telling people to take cover, and if possible, try and get out of the country.

Some other channels of stations further away from our area was risking their lives to get glimpses of the city. The city Stacy and Jo had visited, where everything seemed to have originated from. My mum whimpered when she saw the bloody corpses that littered familiar streets, streets we passed by to get to the city for a family night out.

The helicopter finally reached its destination, and panned in on the destruction happening there. The newscaster commented dutifully, but you could hear the horror in his voice. Something caught the attention of the cameraman, and the helicopter circled around. There were people gathered in the city square. Lots of people. Some deformed, some grotesque, and some human.

The camera zoomed in even more to a stage. The stage had been erected in the middle of the city square for an upcoming celebration. On it were several people. Somehow, you could tell that they were the ones in charge. Their forms were humanoid, so much more normal than the creatures which were terrorizing us, but their strangely colored hair and eyes, not to mention their unnaturally beautiful features, gave them away. A skimpily dressed woman stood among them, her hair a neon pink color, and her eyes a bright silver that could be seen even from the distance between the stage and the helicopter. Another man, smartly dressed, stood to the right rigidly, his hair a crimson red and his eyes were a dark, dark color that I couldn't make out on the screen.

There were others, but I had been distracted by the sight of a single man sitting on a gaudy throne among these humanoids. He had long black hair tied in a ponytail down his back and bright red eyes. I gasped, recognizing him instantly. Verxis looked directly at the camera, as if he had heard my gasp, and I clamped my hand over my mouth. All of a sudden, the helicopter lost control and was hurtling to the ground. The newscaster's panicked voice was blended in with screams of the pilot. I blocked out the sound of the helicopter colliding with the ground with that of my vomiting as I emptied my lunch into the toilet bowl.

“Nana. Nana, are you alright?” My dad asked in concern.

“Fine,” I croaked back as soon as I could. I flushed, and then gargled with water, careful not to use too much. We only had a limited supply of water, after that we would be using the water supplied by the pipes, an action which my dad was convinced would ultimately undo us.

“What happened? What's wrong?” My mum asked me, hovering behind me.

“Nothing. I saw someone I knew,” I said honestly, knowing they would misinterpret my words and think I saw someone I knew as a corpse, and not the man radiating power as he sat on the throne.

I sat back on the couch. The TV had been turned off, we had been exposed to enough horrors for the day. My dad read. My mum prayed. Mo laid down with her head on her paws miserably, and I stared into blank space.

That couldn't have been Six, I told myself. Six was thirteen two years ago. That would make him fifteen now. The man on the screen had been at least twenty, if not older. They just... happened to have the same beautiful eye color. That's all. And the same long, silky hair. And the perfectly straight nose, and flawless lips. I tried to stop my hands from shaking.

No, and my Six wouldn't be responsible for this demon invasion. No, he would have come straight to me and whisked me into his arms, protecting me from all these monsters.

Mo seemed to sense my rising panic, and she nudged me weakly, whining. I smiled at her as reassuringly as I could. Here was a miserable dog, stuck in a tiny space along with three other humans without space to run, and she decided to comfort me first.

“I'm okay, Mo,” I told her. “I'm okay,” And I almost managed to convince myself.

The next few days passed in much the same manner. We watched the television for a few hours, there was no more footage of our city, it was deemed too dangerous to enter, though we did get to see the military making plans and marching around as they prepared to come to our rescue. News that the creatures were getting further and further each day made us worry, but then the comforting news that our weapons worked against these creatures appeared. The news had begun to dub it the demon invasion, though my dad was still convinced that they were failed experiments and the government was just hiding that fact.

With every day that passed, my conviction that the older Verxis lookalike I saw, and the Six from my past were two different people grew weaker. I mean, the fast healing, the inhumanly red eyes, the insatiable lust... It all seemed to make sense.

But at the same time, I couldn't match the thoughts of the sweet – and somewhat horny – boy in my mind with the cruel man who just sat there watching people die in the streets.

Two weeks passed without us really noticing it. The place began to smell – bad. We had each only had one bath – with the exception of Mo who could go months without a bath – in the two weeks, Mo had only the room to poop in, used cans with rotting food had piled up in a corner of the room. My father started to get worried that these unsanitary living conditions would make us sick, and allowed us to bathe once a week instead.

My parents argued constantly. My mother wanted us to go outside and find other people. She was sure there were other survivors out there, with perhaps better shelter. My father argued that this was the best shelter we could ever have, and we had no desperate need to leave it. I sat in a corner, trying to make myself invisible while they argued. Mo was miserable. I think she was starting to get depressed, and I knew exactly how she felt.

The very next day everything changed. We were watching the black box as always, taking in the news. Things were as bad as ever. The demons had practically conquered the area. The military was being pushed back. Then the screen went blank for a second. After that it came on again, and gone was the newscaster behind her comfortable desk. No, the screen was set in the city square, towards the stage where a man sat, grinning at the camera.

I froze, recognizing those red eyes instantly.

“Greetings, humans. In case you haven't already noticed, we've taken over this little country of yours. In a matter of days too,” He spoke in a cocky voice, his confidence overwhelming, and suddenly I was sure he was the leader, the mastermind behind this whole attack. “I'm sure you're all wondering what happens now. Well, I'll tell you. We're going to take over this adorable blue planet. Oh, don't worry, we won't kill all of you. We do need our slaves after all. So don't be too worried, hmm?”

Goosebumps appeared all over my skin. This- this asshole couldn't be Six.

“Now with those officials matters cleaned up, now onto a more personal matter. I'm feeling generous, and I would love to reward one, or a few of you handsomely. By reward, I mean giving you a position of power close to mine. While everyone else will be slaves, you will live like a king. Or kings. While I enslave the rest of your race. And all you need to do is one teeny, tiny thing,” He paused dramatically. “And that is – Bring me Annabelle Richards,”

My mind went blank all of a sudden. His words kept echoing in my head, but I couldn't seem to process them at all. I couldn't think of anything. My whole body went tense, and as still as my brain.

“And when I say bring her to me, I mean alive and unscathed. You kill her and you may find your reward to be not as pleasing. Well then, here's a picture of her. Oh, and try to make it as soon as you can, alright?”

He vanished from the screen, and was instead replaced by a picture of me standing with Mo, grinning. A picture I'd found missing from my house when Six had left, and had assumed correctly that he had taken it with him.

“Nana, why did he just?!”

“What does he want with you, Nana?!”

My parents said simultaneously. I was still staring at the picture of myself, naively happy, such a great contrast to how I felt at the moment.

“I don't know, I don't know!” I repeated to them, trying to convince myself as well. It wasn't Six, it wasn't Six. Six would never do this to me, oh God, oh God....

I blocked out my parents' demanding questions, and my haywire mind felt like it was going to explode. Instead, my stomach protested and I vomited all over my front. After doing so I still felt so sick I started dry retching. My parents reacted quickly, their questions gone for the moment. My mother led me to the bathroom and let me take my place at the toilet, but all the regurgitated food was on my shirt.

“I'm fine,” I told her, though this was a blatant lie. But I wanted beyond anything else to be left alone. She hovered for a second. Then, nodding, she left me alone. I took off my shirt, then filled the bucket to the side with water from the tap, before splashing it over my head. Screw the water supplies, I needed a bath – badly. The cold water helped me sober up a little, and reduced my panic slightly. I left the shirt on the ground so it could soak up all the water, which would make it easier to clean later.

As I lathered myself with a bar of soap, I thought deeply about what I'd just seen. It was indisputable. The man on the screen and Six were the same person, otherwise he wouldn't be looking for me. I contemplated the idea that the man may be a sibling of Six and decided to claim me for his brother, but no - they were the same red eyes I'd stared and got lost in while he was pounding into me.

I soaped my hair too, it was starting to get oily from the lack of washing. I rubbed the mark on my neck extra hard, as if trying to erase that scar too.

He had somehow grown rapidly within the last two years, and come back, as someone more powerful, and conquered this area. He came back, as he had promised me. I wondered if he may have visited my house while I was down here in the underground bomb shelter, only to find me missing.

Another splash. The coldness of the water made me shiver, but it was an invigorating sensation.

There had been a halt in the demons' advance lately, had it been because he was searching for me? As egotistical as that sounded, it made sense. Finally, having gotten tired of looking, he offered a reward to anyone, or anyones, who could find me. Alive and unscathed, he had said. But he didn't say willing. For a moment I wondered if my parents would give me up, but quickly dismissed it. They weren't as cruel as that, they loved me way too much, and would more likely sacrifice themselves rather than sacrifice me. Even if our living conditions were like hell's right at that moment.

I thought about what to do, and came to only one solution – playing possum. They'd have to leave someday, right? We could stay here as long as we could, they would leave and maybe if I was lucky, Six would assume I had somehow died in his brutal invasion.

Nodding to myself and feeling much better, I toweled myself off, and wrapped it around my body. I washed the shirt as best I could, and hung it up in the toilet/bathroom to dry. Then I left the room and took my seat back on the couch.

“Annabelle, why are they looking for you?” My dad asked me after a moment. His face was strained, as was my mother's. As I thought, they were worried. But they weren't about to give me up.

“I sincerely don't know,” I lied. No point in telling them the truth. They would just worry. And we had enough of that, I'd decided during my bath.

“You don't know at all?” my mother reiterated. I shook my head.

“It may be all just a game to them,” My dad said. “Just pick a random person and kidnap her. It's also a psychological mindfuck. They want us to turn in one of our own race. They're testing us. Lowering us to their standards.”

“Grant, language,” my mother frowned disapprovingly. Then she came and wrapped her arms around me. “Don't be afraid, sweetheart. We'll protect you. We won't let them get you,” she told me firmly, seeming stronger than she had been in days. My dad gave me a reaffirming nod. I sighed and allowed my mother to embrace me, humming gently.

As sucky as this life was, I'd never felt closer to my parents as I did then.

The next day, though, was a whole different matter.

“Really. It's just one girl, my friends, how could it take you so long?” Verxis said calmly, but I could hear the irritation in his pretentiously smug tone. I felt a wave of nausea, but not because I was afraid, but because I had actually slept with the bastard. I resisted the urge to throw something at the television.

“Well then, I've arranged a little... incentive to hurry things up a little,” he said, and the camera moved to the left, to reveal a line of people. They looked more than a little bruised, some were missing fingers, others were partially naked. Among them was Stacy, who was wearing nothing more than a jacket. Her favorite green jacket. I inhaled sharply. Her face was a little bruised, as was her lower body, and there was a very worrisome trail of blood leaking out of her crotch and down her legs but aside from that she didn't seem to be missing any limbs. There was an old man at the front of the line, grumpy old Mr Clayton who lived several doors away from us. He could be mean, but he always smiled at me and Mo when we passed by, commenting about how good little teenagers who walked their dogs were so rare nowadays.

He seemed peaceful, resigned. I wondered what they were going to do to him. I didn't have to wonder long. As I was making that observation, a blade protruded out of his belly, and he coughed once, blood spewing out of his mouth. The blade then twisted, earning an agonized scream from the elderly man. The blade was pulled out, then shoved in again. The woman with the neon pink hair stood behind Mr Clayton, grinning, as she stabbed him repeatedly. His screams echoed around our small bomb shelter of a room.

When finally he crumpled to the floor, a bloody mess, the camera returned to Verxis. He was smirking happily, as if having enjoyed the show. Which he might have.

“For every hour that I don't have Annabelle Richards, I'll have one of those long line of people executed. That should be enough incentive for you humanitarians, shouldn't it?” He smirked one last time, then the screen changed back to the smiling picture of me. But not before I'd caught one last glance at a horrified Stacy, pale as bone. She was next in line.

The room was silent. My parents were frozen, horrified. We'd known that man. And there he was, stabbed to death before our eyes, because I wasn't there in his place.

I don't know how long we sat there, maybe half an hour. Finally, I got up and found that I had been clenching my fists so tightly I'd left bloody, circular wounds in my palms, and my bottom lip felt bloody and raw. I had been chewing on it. I went to the table where I'd left my phone, and slid the batteries in. Then I turned it on. This seemed to rouse my dad.

“Nana, what are you doing?” he asked suspiciously.

I said nothing, but I knew time was running out. I rushed up the stairs of the bomb shelter. My mum gasped, and my dad ran after me. But I was fast – much faster than either of them realized. Within seconds I was to the trapdoor. My dad was hot on my heels, but I managed to throw back the heavy door, scramble out, and close it immediately without him getting ahold of me.

My dad had put a lock on the doors not long ago. He didn't tell me or my mother, but he'd added it so it could imprison someone, I was pretty sure, if ever he needed a dungeon. I quickly slid the bolt home. My father pounded on the door furiously.

“Annabelle Marie Richards, you better not do anything stupid! Open this damn door this instant!”

I ignored him, crawling under the bush instead, then I entered my house. My phone had just turned on, and was scanning for reception. I threw open my cupboard and grabbed a shirt. I was still wrapped in just a towel, having not wanted to put my pukeish shirt back on. I grabbed my favorite bright red shirt, the one Jo and Stacy had given me and threw it on. Then I grabbed a random pair of shorts and put it on too, not caring that it was pretty cold outside.

When I was done putting on the clothes, I ran downstairs. I checked my phone. It had finally gotten reception.

I was mid-dial when the television in the living room buzzed to life. I jumped in shock, and was once again face to face with Verxis, except this time it was on a much larger screen. I had forgotten that my father had left the TV on when we had been invaded, and somehow had remained on despite all the chaos.

“So I see we remain stubborn. Oh well,” Stacy was thrust forward by a fat, grotesque monster. She squealed, and a string of pleads fell from her pale, split lips. My fingers had never flown across my phone's keypad that quickly. Speed dial, speed dial, Stacy's number four, my mind chanted.

The pink-haired woman lifted her blade, and aimed for Stacy's neck, at the same moment I pressed the green button. Please work, please work, I begged. Stacy's cheery ring-tone suddenly filled the room, playing from the television's speakers. I took a sigh of relief. Stacy never turned off her phone, and she always left it as loud as possible in case any potential suitors were calling, or had sent her a message. It was sheer luck that she'd still had her jacket on, and her phone on her, with batteries. But I figured they wouldn't take her phone away, right? I mean, who would she call? The police?

Verxis's eyes narrowed on the screen. He reached into the pocket and pulled out the phone. I watched him carefully. His eyes seemed to widen when he read off who was calling.

“Hello?” he asked.

His voice was deeper, and over the phone, I could hear the similarities between his voice and Six's. But that just seemed to annoy me even more. I had never been so pissed to hear anyone's voice. “Let. Go. Of. My. Friend,” I managed out through gritted teeth. It was weird, but I thought I could hear my voice over the screen. Stacy must have left her phone on speaker. His eyes slid over to Stacy on the screen. I waited in silence as he motioned for the woman to let go of Stacy, and lower the blade. She did so hesitantly, upset at having been deprived her kill. Stacy stumbled back, gasping and crying. But even through it all she eyed the phone worriedly. Worried for me. My heart went out to her.

“So you finally decided to drop me a line, Belle?” Verxis's voice was teasing, it sounded far too much like the boy I'd known two years ago, and suddenly I was angry all over again.

“You have no right to call me that, you bastard,” I hissed. Somehow, I sounded even angrier over the television. Verxis's happy smile disappeared.

“I'll call you whatever I want, Belle,” he said. “Now, don't you think you should get that cute little butt of yours over here?” And suddenly, the smile returned.

I didn't answer for a while, my anger was battling with my lust at how he had described my rear. Finally, my more reasonable side took control, and I put the plan I had been formulating into action. Through my pause, Verxis's smile became more strained over the TV. That made me happy. “You said... that whoever brings me there will get a reward, right?”

His eyebrow rose slightly. “Yes, I did,”

“Does that still apply if I take myself there?” I asked.

There was a short silence, and then he burst out laughing, as did the others on the square. I waited for his answer.

“Yes, it applies,” he answered. “You'll be treated as the queen you deserve to be,”

I nodded to myself. Everything was good so far. “That sounds nice,” I said flatly, conveying how interested I was in his 'reward'. “But there's something else that I want,”

“Oh? And what is that?” he asked smoothly, and I got the feeling he was thinking of something a little more naughty.

“I'll surrender myself to you willingly. I won't run away or fight you and you can do whatever you want with me,” Verxis licked his lips here, and I felt a slight tingle run through my body. I ignored it. “But in exchange, I want you to leave this place and go back to where you came from. I want you to forever abandon all your stupid plans to take over our world, and take all your hideous lackeys with you. And I want you to swear neither you nor any of your little errand boys will ever come back to our world again,”

There was a long pause, and I wondered if I'd gone too far. Then another burst of laughter from all the demons.

“That's an awfully interesting proposal, my little Belle. But let me ask you this,” he reached out and pulled Stacy to him by her hair. She screamed in pain. “What's to stop me from offering you another trade? You being here for her life,” he said, stroking a finger down Stacy's cheek menacingly.

I sighed. It was a good thing I'd spent that half an hour thinking. I'd predicted this outcome. And numerous others, but hopefully I wouldn't have to solve those too. “If you enslave the world, she probably won't survive anyway. Or worse – she'll live a horrible life of slavery. I think she might prefer death to that. This death might actually be an act of mercy for her,” I tried to reason as best I could. Stacy would probably hate me, but this was the best I could come up with. But then I saw Stacy nod almost imperceptibly on the TV. She was agreeing with me. My blood went cold and for a moment I wondered what kind of hell her life must have been in the last two weeks.

The clock continued to tick as Verxis mulled my offer through. Finally, he let go of Stacy's hair, and she moved away from him fearfully. Then Verxis spoke into the phone once again “Alright. Deal.”

The demons started roaring, stunned that their master had actually agreed to such an unreasonable trade.

I collapsed onto the floor as silently as I could. My knees felt like jelly. I stifled the sigh of relief threatening to whoosh out of me. I was still on the phone. I couldn't act like I felt there was no way he'd ever agree to my deal.

“Alright,” I said, when I'd deemed my voice steady enough. “I'll be there in an hour,”

“Good. And if you don't show up, Belle, I'll forget our previous deal. And we'll rape your friend on TV so you can watch every agonizing detail before I kill her,” he threatened.

“Don't insult me, Six. I'll be there,” I spat into the phone, before ending the call. It took me a while to realist I'd called him by the nickname I'd given him and I slapped my forehead painfully. Verxis was grinning over the TV. The screen went blank, but not before revealing an unhappy crowd that had been deprived a war they'd obviously wanted to take part in.

I crawled all the way to coffee table. All the anger had left me, and was replaced by fear - fear that paralyzed my legs. I was going to die. I knew it. That's why I had sounded so confident over the phone. I had nothing to lose. I tore a blank piece of paper from the notebook my father kept there, and wrote a quick letter to him and my mother, telling them to take care of themselves, and that I was going to a better place, I was sure. Even though I'd not lived the life my mother had wanted me to.

But hey, I saved the world, didn't I? That had to count for something.

Last of all, I asked them to take care of Mo. I was going to miss my adorable pet.

When I was done, I folded it up and sneaked back outside. I crawled under the bush to the trapdoor. There were no sounds. My dad had given up trying to break through the lock. As quietly as I could, I drew back the lock, not wanting my parents to be prisoners in the underground and be forced to rot there. I sighed in relief when my dad didn't come rushing through. Though at the same time I felt a little disappointed, it was for the best. There was no way they'd let me go now that they knew what I was going to do. I left the letter in the small slit between the doors.

Nearly half an hour had passed when I was finally out the door, wearing my mother's jacket and my father's car keys in hand. I was so glad I'd gotten some driving lessons, even though I'd never actually gone for the test.

The loud growling of the car's engine reminded me of Mo, and while my fear didn't disappear, I didn't feel as scared as I had before.

But still. At this point, I'd give anything to get back my boring, ordinary life.

Too late to regret now, I told myself as I changed gear, and stepped on the gas pedal, hard. Speeding off to my fate, and my doom.