Chadpocalypse - Epilogue

Thanks again for reading :)

Need to catch up? Check out the collection here:https://www.abctales.com/collection/chadpocalypse

Previous Chapter

Epilogue

Chad was drunk. The world spun lazy circles around him, dancing to a calypso beat that prompted a dull throbbing against the inside of his skull. Looking down at a hallway that had far too many doors, he felt a strange sensation wash over him. It was the most intense déjà vu he had ever felt, mixed with a sense of impending danger. It took him a moment to piece the feelings together, but when he did, Chad realized a critical fact: This wasn’t his apartment building.

            “You stupid, drunk, bastard,” he murmured and turned around, walking back the way he had come. A shattered glass window explained how he had managed to get through the front door in the first place. He listened for sounds of sirens but didn’t hear any. “Midway provides.” Chad climbed through the broken window, careful not to cut himself and headed down the street in the direction of his apartment.

            As it turned out, he had only been two buildings in the wrong direction. He approached another complex and saw a black cat sitting on the front stoop. It looked up at him with yellow eyes and meowed.

            “Did no one let you in, Maurice?” he asked, trying his best not to slur. He didn’t know much about the cat, but felt it was judging him for the state he had returned in.

            The cat meowed in reply.

            “In my defense, all these buildings look the god damned same!” It was true. The housing developments in Midway had long ago given up on individuality in favor of the cost cutting measures afforded with homogeny.

            The cat meowed again.

            Chad gave the meow some thought. “Oh, I guess that’s right.” In his mind, the meow had been an angry reminder that Chad was the one who had forgotten to let Maurice in. “I’m sorry, Maurice.” He bent down and pet the cat. “Why don’t we go back to mine and talk it out over a can of tuna, eh?”

            The cat meowed and brushed against Chad’s leg.

            “Alright then.” Chad pilfered through his own pockets as if they were a stranger’s, looking for a key. He found a set of two wrapped around a brass ring. “That will do it.” He pushed one into the lock and to his pleasant surprise, the door popped open. Together, him and Maurice wandered up to the apartment where they split a can of tuna. Chad passed out face down on his lumpy, old mattress and had what he would later describe as the best sleep of his life.

When Chad awoke it was to the pounding fury of the hangover to end all hangovers. The first thing he noticed was the furious pain in his temples, followed shortly by Maurice meowing and pawing at the door to the hallway. “What? Couldn’t let me sleep a little more?” He moaned. Even the sound of his voice was too much. Chad rolled over and looked at the clock. It was almost noon. “Alright, fair enough, I’m up.”

            Shaking the hangover from his limbs like a wet dog, Chad stood and let Maurice out. His stomach growled with a more intense hunger than he had expected. “This is what I get for not putting a burger in you before we went to bed.” Chad tutted his tongue. “Well, let’s do something about that.” Chad did a quick mental calculation. “Let’s see, 11:30 on a Sunday, might be able to beat the church rush at B’s.”

             Chad quickly pulled on a fresh pair of pants and wetted his messy hair in the sink. He was out the door in less than five minutes and beating his way down the pavement. The hot midday sun beat down, sucking up the last of the water Chad had sweat out from his hangover. He cursed his lack of foresight and promised to pick up a pair of shades from the gas station on the way home.           

            Chad was nearly to B’s Diner when he passed by a church. It was built from fading bricks that looked like they might crumble at any second under the steeple’s weight. The congregation were making their way out the main doors in droves, heading for their cars in the parking lot. Standing on the steps was an elderly man with faded white hair and glasses.

            Chad looked at him with an odd sense of familiarity. It was so strong that he stopped in his tracks. The man looked back at him, making eye contact. Strange sensations swept through Chad that he couldn’t understand. They were followed quickly by nausea as the bile in his stomach turned over. The unpleasant taste of vomit in his throat reminded him of his original goal. He looked to the churchgoers, back to the man, and in the direction of the diner.

            “I’ll come back later!” he shouted, surprised by his own words, and then sprinted in the direction of the diner. He wasn’t sure why he had said it to begin with, but he was sure that he meant it. Chad would get himself an eggs benedict and then return to solve the mystery of the dilapidated church. All things considered; it was shaping up to be a hell of a Sunday.

The End