World Destruction (8)
"Huff... huff... huff..."
Bam! I burst through the door and slammed it shut behind me.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! At the same time, something pounded furiously against it.
What the fuck is that thing!
I'd just finished work and was heading home. Tomorrow was the weekend, so I'd grabbed some chicken and beer to unwind when some freakish guy came charging after me on all fours.
Bam! Bam!
"Fuck off! Get the hell away!" I screamed at the door almost like a sob, and the pounding finally stopped.
"..."
The silence left me standing there in a daze at the entrance. What was that? Did it leave? Is it gone?
I slowly, very slowly, pressed my face to the peephole.
The black night sky and empty stairs. Nothing. It was gone.
Tension released, saliva drooled from my slack mouth. What the hell was that?
Rustle.
Oh.
The chicken bag dangling from my hand rustled. Somehow I'd held onto it.
"Ha."
Thinking about chicken in a situation like this—had my head gone weird?
I glanced back warily as I headed to my room. A tiny studio apartment where just the bed and TV took up half the space. I changed into comfy clothes, climbed onto the bed, and unfolded the small folding table propped against the wall, setting it up on top.
I unpacked the bag, pulling out the beer and the crisply fried chicken inside. The packaging was soggy from oil leaking on the way home, but the chicken still looked perfectly crunchy.
Pop! I wiped the condensation off a beer can fresh from the fridge, beads of dew glistening on it, then struggled to pry it open with my fingers.
At the same time, I tore into a drumstick and chugged the beer.
"..."
Ordinary. So ordinary it made the earlier incident feel like a dream.
Am I going crazy?
Did I hallucinate something that fucked up? Or am I so crazy I can eat chicken after seeing it?
Click.
With complicated feelings, I turned on the TV in front of the bed.
The news was on.
[Last evening...]
The usual peaceful world. Occasional crime stories felt like they belonged to another realm, far from me.
Normally I'd change channels, but this time I stared blankly at the news. As expected, nothing about what I'd just gone through.
Should I go to a mental hospital?
There was no one on the street today—just me and that monster. Does that even make sense? No people on the way home from work? And on my floor, right up to my door, no one saw or heard? With all that noise? And then the monster just vanishes? My head has to be the problem.
Yeah, mental hospital it is.
I mechanically tore into the chicken that tasted like nothing while thinking.
Hiss.
Then the TV channel suddenly switched.
On screen was a woman in a suit, her face mosaicked.
"Hello, citizens of the Republic of Korea."
What? I hadn't touched the remote. And what channel airs something like this?
"Please don't panic. This is a live broadcast airing on every TV nationwide. We apologize to the broadcasters, but it will automatically return to your regular programming once it's over."
Tap, tap. A paper appeared in the woman's hand.
"Now, let's begin the briefing."
Click. The screen switched to a series of photos.
"What the..."
These were photos too gruesome to air carelessly. Revolting, brutal images. But the weird part was...
What the hell is that?
Mixed in were bizarre shots: human corpses floating around, monsters with bulging eyes glaring.
"We apologize for showing high-impact material without warning, but you need to get used to it. This is what you'll see in reality from now on."
What the fuck does that mean?
My head spun. The chicken in my hand had long since fallen onto the blanket.
"To cut to the chase: the Association can no longer protect you in secret."
The woman bowed her head apologetically.
"Our world is currently on the brink of destruction. Monsters have begun swarming as a result. Some of you watching may have already faced near-death experiences."
My heart dropped. Hadn't I just barely escaped death?
It wasn't a hallucination?
"But you couldn't say anything about it. That's due to the information control enforced by the Association. However, we've realized that in the current situation, such control only increases mortality rates."
Snap. She snapped her fingers.
"We're lifting information restrictions starting now. Spread what you know about surviving as widely as possible. The Association will do everything to prevent the world's end."
She bowed again, and the screen went black.
"That concludes the message from the Korean branch of the Monster Management Association."
"Ha... heh... hehehe..."
I bowed my head and laughed in disbelief. It wasn't a hallucination. What the fuck is happening to the world?
Crunch.
I picked up the chicken from the blanket and kept laughing as I ate.
A week had passed since the broadcast. Apparently, it aired worldwide—U.S. branch, Japan branch, and so on.
At first, most people didn't believe it. Who'd buy some sudden TV hijack spouting that crap?
But tech to broadcast globally just for a hoax? And once the info control truth came out, the silenced started talking, and everyone believed.
"..."
The news was full of terrorist groups using monsters. Deaths today, monster info.
Online: neighbors killed by monsters, nearly died myself. Survival tips from sharers were handy.
Hiss, gulp, gulp.
I cracked a beer and dumped it down my throat. Tearing into a drumstick improved my mood.
"Phew."
My routine hadn't changed. No monsters paying my bills, so work it was. Commute trembling in fear of another chase.
Luckily, mass resignations from monster panic hiked my salary. Association agents hunting monsters were around too.
The world hadn't changed much. Less activity, avoid nights. In time, we'd all walk fine in a monster-mixed world. I'd just adapted quick. Another day drowned in beer.
World's end.
Like crimes were someone else's story, so was apocalypse. Pray the Association handles it. A nobody like me doesn't know shit.
Gulp.
I sipped beer, gazing at the balcony.
"Huh?"
Then I saw it—an explosion far off.
Gulp.
I walked the ruined streets, still nursing my beer. Debris snagged my feet, gravel scraped my soles. Head itched from days without a wash.
Gulp, gulp.
What now for me? Wander till a monster or human kills me?
No family contact. Comms dead, no clue if alive.
Wish I could eat this beer with chicken before dying.
My steps headed to my usual chicken joint.
Three months since the city fell. No chicken since. Beer scavenged from convenience store ruins, stocked in my hideout... but chicken? Impossible.
Craved fresh, crunchy fried chicken. That was it.
Crunch, crunch.
Humans trying to steal my beer? Knife out, kill, stomp. Murder's routine now. Gotta check into the nuthouse for real.
Step, step.
[Kin House] The wrecked sign dangled. "Chi" from chicken gone, left "Kin House."
Building mostly intact. Lucky.
Creeeak.
Door opened to dark interior. I trudged to the kitchen. Empty, as expected.
Click. Flicked the switch—lights on. Power still good.
Pulled chicken from my bag, slapped it on the cutting board. Raised it myself after owner died. Slaughtered for today.
"..."
Never learned to make chicken. No internet search. Should've grabbed a cookbook from a bookstore.
Vain thought drew a hollow laugh.
Filled fryer with oil, tossed in chicken, butchered as best I could recall. Whole bird it is.
Prepped with kitchen scraps, dropped into fryer.
Sizzle! Bubbling, frying started.
Hands in pockets, waited ages. Finally, a whole fried chicken emerged.
Tongs lifted it, dusted off, plated. Carried to table, sat. Golden aroma hit.
Tossed empty can far, cracked new beer from bag.
Gulp, gulp.
Shoved beer down throat.
Crunch.
Tore off a drumstick, shoved in mouth.
Tastes fucking awful.
Gamey as hell, batter uneven. Undercooked? Skin tough to chew.
Crunch.
Still, I gnawed chicken, drank beer. How bad I'd craved this.
"Haa..."
Soon, only bones left. Exhaled.
KABOOOM!!!
Massive blast outside—building shook wildly. Looked fine outside, but limits reached. Cracks spiderwebbed inside.
Before I could react—
Crash!
Ceiling collapsed.
Thoughts slowed; ceiling poured down slowly.
Fine.
Leaned back in chair, clamped chicken bone in teeth.
This ain't bad.
Closed eyes.
Bam! Boom! Bam!
Chunks smashed floor. No pain, weirdly.
What?
—Mister.
Curiosity spiked with the voice. Eyes snapped open in shock.
"Mister, it's been so short since I came out, but... know anything?"
There stood the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, having pulverized all the falling debris.
To her, I said,
"Don't call me mister."
I'm still in my twenties.