Chapters The Last Request of Adam B. Jacobson
My name is Adam. I'm 32 years old. I had a loving wife and three beautiful children. I was a school teacher in Chicago. I took up archery at a young age and I hunted often. I got married after I got my teaching license, already had a kid and had two more: A boy and two girls; Adrian, Alice and Michelle, respectively. Of course, that was before that whole zombie fiasco happened.
I lost a lot to them, ya know?
Sorry if I ramble, it's hard to keep my thoughts straight knowing this will be the last thing I ever tell someone before I die. Being told this is my last request sort of showed me just how mortal I was, how trivial my life was.
Ironic, no?
...
Eh, you wouldn't get it. Odds are you're just some pampered noble sitting on the throne of a broken world, waiting for people like me to knock you off your high horse.
...
Get it? High horse? No? Well, I hope you laughed, anyways. That would make me dying worth it in the end, I suppose.
I'm getting ahead of myself though, so let's take a few steps back, because god knows it only takes one wrong one to lose everything.
November 6th, 2010.
"And that is why you don't become an English teacher." I said to my second period class of sophomores, having finished a story about my own time in high school. The class burst into laughter, which had slowly been building as I continued my story. I chuckled with them, nodding as I walked over to my desk, opening my email. "Alright class, hop to your assignment." I sat down, reveling in the silence as the class began to work quietly. Refreshing the webpage, two new emails caught my eye, both within minutes of each other.
The first was from the woman at the front office...
Sorry, I forgot her name. It's been awhile.
I do remember what the email said, though. It said there were several disturbances reported nearby and to keep a watchful eye for any problems.
The second one was from the administration itself, and the words in it I will never forget.
'We have been informed that there is no danger nearby, it was simply a false alarm. Ignore anyone who says otherwise. Continue teaching your classes, and god bless you all.'
I couldn't put together a logical sentence as I sat staring at the computer, my mind running laps around the meaning of the email. Not a sound left my lips as I rose to my feet and left the classroom. None of it made sense except the last words.
God bless you all...
I shook my head, shutting the door behind me and letting out a sigh.
I always loved kids. Even when I was a teen, barely out of that stage myself, I liked taking care of kids, teaching them things they didn't know before. The smile someone got when they learned something new, and to cause that smile was a goal of mine through life.
I couldn't handle failure, whether it was mine or someone else's. I remember one time, my wife said I couldn't climb the side of a cliff we passed while we were hiking. To prove her wrong, I set out to climb the cliff. I made it to the top, and laughed, jumping into the air and fist pumping.
The rock gave way and I fell. I broke my ankle and had to listen to my wife tell me she was right, over and over. I couldn't argue with her, though.
I had a tendency to do stupid things.
I leaned against the door into the classroom, sighing as I hung my head. I stared at my sneakers, past my shaking hands, breathing heavily as the worst conclusions sprung to my mind.
Why is that? I questioned myself as I had the tendency to do. I shook my head, trying to think clearly for a moment. He had a good point, why was I freaking out? Sure the administration personally took time from their day to send a mass email to teachers, and they did 'bless us' but that didn't mean something bad was going down... Did it?
I did little to assuage my concerns, so with a determined nod, I set out to the the front office to find answers. As I did, I passed classrooms that were empty and full, doors opened and closed, quiet and loud... Life and Death.
Quit being so dramatic, nobody is going to die. I couldn't believe that, even if I was the one to say it. Well, think it.
I stopped outside the office and poked my head through the window, casually calling out "Hell..." I started a greeting, but trailed off when I was greeted with a dark and empty office. "O?" I shook my head in disbelief, preparing to head back to my class to grab my coat and dismiss them when the fire alarm went off.
"Son of a bitch..." I muttered, turning to walk out the front doors, when a sight caught me off guard. The sight of a man in a trench coat stumbling towards the glass double doors. Behind him, half a dozen more were spread out, and every one of them had some kind of injury and was covered in blood.
So naturally my mind jumped to zombies. "Nope!" I did a 180 and ran for the back entrance, which was a much quicker way to the parking lot anyhow. Nice coincidence, huh?
As it turns out, that way wasn't the best either. I turned down a hallway and saw students running out the back door, screaming as the janitor munched on some teenage girl. His leg was torn up to hell, blood still dripping from the major wound. He was too focused on on his lunch to care though, as I noticed.
Being the hero I am, I jump kicked him and pulled the girl away, but quickly found out that there was no point. She had already died from the massive loss of blood. Got my shoes dirty to save a dead girl, AND I got the attention of the slightly overweight bearded man.
He had managed to stay on his feet and was already stumbling towards me, growling in anger at my interruption of his meal. I charged him, sweeping his legs out from underneath him and running past as fast as I could handle.
Did I mention I was an avid hand to hand combat freak? Well I did now. Yeah, sort of something I wanted to know, in case I ever needed to use it. Turns out, I did.
...
Sorry, can we skip this part? It's hard. No, don't write this part down. I still see you writing. Ugh, fine, we can take a break. Grilled Cheese is fine.
I stare at Twilight for a moment before I nod in confirmation. "Thank you." I say, the gentleman I have always been. The delicious cheesy goodness that is a Grilled Cheese floats over to my mouth again, and I take another bite. I chew for a moment before swallowing. "So." I say as I watch the alicorn sit in the chair across from mine, though hers lacks the leather straps the guards were kind enough to give me. "Wonderful weather we're having."
She nods. "Indeed. Today is supposed to be nice." I was being sarcastic, as I can't see anything from my cell below Canterlot Castle, but she took it literally.
I decide to make a suggestion, "You should take the day off, take a break. I'm not going anywhere." Part of me genuinely wants her to have a nice time, but the selfish part of me just wants a moment to sleep.
She shakes her head. "Sorry, but I promised the princess I would carry out your request as promptly as possible, which means no big breaks until the end." Well, that's a shame, I think to myself.
After another few minutes, she nods. "Right, let's continue."
"Okay, so I was running towards the door, when I felt a strange feeling in the back of my mind..."
Author's Note
This might seem silly, but I'm uploading this a little early just in case what Poultron is saying ISN'T a joke. That, and I had it done and this motivated me to post it.
When an Angel Deserves to Die
One thing you have to understand about me is that I hate the sight of blood. Very squeamish, can't handle it. I don't know how I held myself together for as long as I did, maybe it was just the shock of everything that had happened. It was shocking, though. What that janitor did to that poor girl, it was gruesome and horrible.
Nevermind, that's done and over with.
...
I was serious about skipping this part though. I don't want to... But... Fine.
I burst through the back door, not bothering to look behind me as I turned and ran towards the rather empty area I had parked my my car. Being an out of town teacher, I had learned that most teachers walked to school. That meant no obstacles to get to my car, but it also left nothing to the imagination when it came to the screams.
It was chaos when I did turn. ~~It was~~ ~~I can't describe~~ It haunts me. The sight was horrific, like something out of a horror movie only so much worse because it was real. That didn't hit me at the time, I think, or else I would have reacted much differently. There were maybe two dozen men and women garbed in torn blood soaked clothing, and some were even missing limbs, and yet they easily caught the terrified teens and teachers as they panicked. They sunk their teeth into various spots on their prey. Most people kept running, and I feel disgusted to be one of those people, knowing that nobody even tried to help.
I guess us human beings can be pretty fucking terrible when we want to, huh? But I'm not here to talk about the humans that will most likely never read this, just this one pathetic human being known as me.
That initial slaughter hit me hard, and if not for the very real danger of death, I might have broken down right there. As it happened, I had a wife to get home to and children to pick up from the folks.
"Stay strong." I whispered to myself, shuddering. "Stay strong for them." I got in my car and started it, hitting the gas and trying to tune out the screams from around me.
I shake my head, trying to clear the images of the children from my mind. "So many people, dead. Because we were too cowardly to save them. Even one..." Unexpectedly, I chuckle. "I deserve this. I deserve everything I got."
Twilight stares at me with a worried look on her face. "I'm sorry, I understand what you've lost, what you've been through. Maybe we should--"
"Do you?" I snap, gritting my teeth. "You've watched dozens of people die in a matter of minutes? Hundreds?" My vision starts to blur with tears. "You've lost the people closest to you because you weren't good enough to save them?" My voice cracks and I yell "You've lost the people you swore to protect before they were old enough to even understand what's happening, all because the person you've loved more than anything," I gesture to my left hand, or the stump in its place, screaming, "took that chance away from me!? " I break down, sobs wrack my body. For some time we sit, the only sounds are my sniffling.
Finally, she breaks the silence with a voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."
"No." I look up at her, sighing. "You aren't sorry until you know what happened."
I drove the fifteen minutes in silence, my dead stare fixed on the road ahead, which was devoid of any signs of life. The sky was grey, the clouds a darker grey as a signal of rain to go along with the gloomy day. Every so often I would pass a dead body, some moving some not, or I would hear screaming in the distance, or I would see a car stopped on the side of the road, abandoned for whatever reason. The machine gun fire started when I pulled into my driveway.
I practically leaped from the car in my haste to confirm my wife's safety, rushing to the front door and hoping it was open so as to not delay my set course. The neighborhood around, thankfully, was devoid of any signs of unlife.
I opened the door slowly, poking a head in to quickly scan the hallway. At the end of the hallway was the shape of a woman, leaning against my bedroom door.
Stacy! I shut the door behind me, calling out to her. She turned, revealing the long object poking out of her chest, a kitchen knife. She stepped forward, into the light cast from the windows to reveal that she wasn't my wife, but rather my neighbor. One who had a tendency to borrow my gardening tools and an even greater tendency to not return them. Her orange hair hung over her dead eyes and bloody face, the right side of which was torn apart by what could be either a bear or a tiger. Or, as it turns out, a dead person.
Her blouse was torn open, revealing the hole in her side, the blood that had once dripped down her side was black and caked to her skin, the blood inside similar. She gave me no more time to look as she shuffled towards me, groaning as though in pain...
Or in hunger. I'll go with the latter.
I took a step backwards as she lunged, pushing her sideways into the closet door. Pinning her to the door, I spot the blade of the knife poking out through her back. I must have pushed it through I grabbed the blade, pulling it the rest of the way through her body with a sickening squelch, grabbing the slick handle firmly with my hand.
Holding her against the closet door as she thrashed, I searched for anything that would make the act easier to commit. With a smirk, I said, "This is for not returning my hedge clippers you bitch." I plunged the knife into the back of her head, stopping her thrashing almost instantly. She went limp, falling to the floor and taking the knife with her.
I took a deep breath, shaking my head in disbelief. That's when I heard a sound in the master bedroom. I quickly ran through the kitchen, grabbing a cleaver from the drawer and another kitchen knife, just in case it wasn't my wife.
When I reached the bedroom and opened the door, I knew something was off. The lights were on. My wife never left the lights on, because... Because...
I pause, causing Twilight to stare up at me with a look of half curiosity and half concern. She tilts her head to the side quizzically.
I smile grimly, shaking my head. "She had a thing about not leaving things on without using them. One of her big pet peeves, along with country music and jello." I chuckle, "To this day, I still don't eat jello."
Twilight rises to her hooves, stretching her wings. "If you want to take a break..." She begins, but I shake my head.
"No, I have to say this now or I'll just snap again." I take a deep breath and try to hold in the tears, I barely do so. "She was leaned against the dresser, blood running down her arm as she held the bedsheet to her neck. She was staring at the mirror, not even noticing when I ran up to her. I tried to move her, but she pushed me away.
"'Honey.' She whispered, taking one of my hands in her free one. 'The kids...' I tried to tell her to not talk, but I was drowned out as she started to cough violently, blood splattering on the mirror. I again tried to help her move, only this time she fell to her knees. I was panicking, I didn't try to understand why I ran to the closet, grabbing the hiking bag from the top shelf and pulling the rope out of the black bag. I don't remember what I wanted to do, maybe tie the sheet to her neck or something.
"'Stop worrying about me!' She said, louder than before with much pain in her voice, 'I'll be fine! Be happy... For me, please.' I turned, dropping the rope and rushing to her side. Taking her hands in my own, I started to cry. She slumped over, the life fading from her eyes. I bit back a sob as I sat there with her body for... Minutes, Hours, I'm not sure." I almost start crying again, but I hold back.
Finally, I stood and turned away, shaking away the thoughts. As something brushed my left hand, a thought hit me. If all these things look like zombies, act like zombies, does that mean..? My thought was cut off by her teeth sinking into my hand, biting clean through three of my fingers in the one swift motion. I pulled away, kicking her as I fell back onto the bed, right onto the cleaver I had brought with me."
"My mind rushed a mile a minute as the pain made me very much aware that my dead wife had bit me after dying from a bite.
"On a hunch, I grabbed the cleaver and bolted across the room, scooping up the rope and running into the bedroom, past my groaning wife. I locked the door behind me, and fell on the floor next to the toilet."
I tied the rope tight a few inches above my wrist, positioned the cleaver on my wrist, and raised it. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, but as you can see... It worked out" I sniffle. "I brought the cleaver down in one swift motion. My hand rolled to the floor, I fell back against the bathtub, screaming in agony and grasping my wrist. I pulled my shirt off, wrapping it around the newly formed stump. I bit back another scream as I stared at my hand and watched as in mere seconds the blood dripping from the wound turned black, the flow becoming akin to syrup."
"Then I passed out, and when I woke up I didn't hear banging on the door. I had survived, narrowly." I look up to see Twilight brushing her hoof across her eyes.
"I'm so sorry." She says, placing her other hoof on my hand. I accept the gesture, though I shake my head.
"Don't be. She hated when people were sorry for things they couldn't control."
Author's Note
Guess what song I got the title from and you get a cookie.
So, the story is not maddeningly depressing like it might seem at the moment.
Adapting
I stare at Twilight, shaking my head slightly as she scribbled on the parchment, eyes locked on every word she wrote, every letter her quill spelled out before her. I wonder to myself why she hasn't left, as it has been several hours since she arrived in the morning, but I don't bother to voice my concerns. It wouldn't make a difference either way.
I continue to wonder this until the alicorn looks up at me with a frown. "I don't understand."
I hum, my eyes locking on the door behind her. She takes this as a sign to continue.
"Why did you start there in the story if you aren't going to explain anything else? Who you are, what you do, who these pon--" she grunts, catching my raised eyebrow. I hadn't bothered adjusting to Equestrian speak, and when you live among varied races, you don't hear it often. "... people, I mean. How did you even get here?" Obviously she means Equestria, but for a moment I sit there confused. But it passes, and I shrug.
"Seems that's the big question, ain't it? Long story short, something pulled me through, I wandered in a wasteland til I found my home." I grant her the gist of the story I would tell later for some reason.
"Nopony commented on your strange appearance?" I let her slip in speech slide, not expecting her to change it on my account.
"Well, I had a few comments on my 'lack of emotion' and my 'vast skill set' but other than that, when you live in a town of mixed races, something weird showing up isn't so big. But I'm getting ahead of myself, that comes later." I try to smile, if only to refute one of the points made against me. "I woke up some time after my quick time surgery..."
I woke up some time after my quick time surgery, my arm wrapped in my torn shirt at the wrist up, soaked in blood, mine and... another's. I shake the thoughts from my head, eager to examine my current situation... which was boring as hell. I mean, honestly now? Then again, boring is better than dead...
The bathroom was silent. Absolutely, mind numbingly silent, save the dripping of the faucet. Who turned it on? I'm not sure, because I didn't. Maybe it was fate, trying to annoy the shit out of me, because I needed it or something. I scanned the bathroom, putting the 'drip drip drip' at the back of my mind as I listened for any other noises. There were none at all. When I had been near unconsciousness, I thought I had heard banging on the bathroom door. Whether it had been simply a concoction of my pained mind or the love of my life, I couldn't say.
But I knew I had survived. Hopefully, it was because I caught the bite in time and not because the bites mean nothing, or I'll be pissed.
I grunted, minding my sensitive stump as I shuffled across the slippery floor to sidle against the simple wooden door, pressing my ear against the rectangular barrier and listening carefully for any noise at all. Again, there was none at all. I sighed, knocking my fist on the door and muttering incoherently at the door. There was no reaction, so I laughed bitterly.
"Best make the most of a shitty situation. I could use a hand right about now though, can't do this on my own." I believed it, but despite that I still laughed at my accidental pun, my eyes drifting towards the blackened appendage curled up on the tiled floor, black gunk in a small puddle around it.
I adjusted my ghetto sling when I stood up again, a small shoebox in my hand, which I dropped onto the bed less than gently. The box fell next to the bloody cleaver I had recovered, as well as the knife and a crowbar worthy of Gordon Freeman I had recovered from under my bed.
I pulled the lid off the box and tossed it aside, staring into the box blankly as its contents registered in my mind. It was a simply black object I had used twice in my life. Once was at the firing range, the other was when I had heard someone making noise in the kitchen. The cat was fine, but my pride was not so lucky...
I never fixed the microwave. That was something Stacy always bothered me about. But I digress! The handgun wasn't much to describe, it was a glock I had obtained some time beforehand, with a spare clip and a box of ammo.
I never imagined I would have to use it in quite the way I was going to, but I couldn't effectively use my hunting rifle or shotgun, my compound bow was out of the question. My several thousand dollar crossbow was effectively useless until I could learn to use it better, but it was dead weight at the time. The crowbar was too heavy to use one handed, and apart from the cleaver and knife the pistol was the only weapon that wasn't made useless by my brilliant fucking idea .
I sighed, pulling the holster out of the box and properly fitting it on my chest, thankful that I had put on a new shirt. With the ordeal accomplished without much trouble, I decided to focus on my injury. I made my way into the bathroom and dug around in the cabinets for the gauze I remember being somewhere among our vast medical supplies.
Well, aspirin. I found disinfectant, gauze and duct tape, wrist pumping (hahaha oh god I'm so fucking funny) in victory as I walked over to my bed. I won't go through the details, but let's just say there was lots of swearing, lots of pain and a lot of lack of hand to piss me off.
After I woke up, having blacked out a third time, I stared at the wall for a long time. I can't remember how long I did, but eventually I was interrupted by the ringing of my cellphone in my pocket. I shook away the fog surrounding my mind and pulled the device out of my pocket.
Imagine my surprise to find the caller id read 'Dad.' With the quickness of a coke addict I flipped the phone open, held it to my ear, and heard activity on the other end. "Hello?" I asked worriedly, hoping the activity was anything but what it sounded like.
"Adam... Get off... Go... Adrian... Bastards... Help..." I heard little between the sounds of groaning, screaming and crying before I heard the phone hit the ground.
I couldn't believe my ears. The kids! "Someone pick up the damn phone!" I shouted into the little black device, surprised when I heard just that.
"Daddy?" Alice said tentatively into the phone, obviously having moved a distance away from the sound.
"What's going on honey?!" I asked a little harder than I intended, and I quickly softened my voice. "Is everyone okay?"
She started to whimper, "No. A bunch of mean people came and some of them were hurt and Grandpa didn't want to help them but Grandma was outside and she wanted to help and one of them tried to hurt her and he bit her and Grandpa hit him and Grandma got inside but then the people started trying to get in and then Grandma stopped moving but then one of the people got in the back door and... Adrian." Without another word she starts crying hard, and I'm left to stare blankly at the wall across from me. Suddenly, when I heard Dad yell Mom's name, I remember something.
"Honey, you need to get Michelle and take her into the basement." She keeps crying, but I thought I heard her moving. "Those bad people are going to get inside, and... and Grandma is one of them. You need to get in the basement, lock the door and be quiet, okay?"
She stopped crying long enough to ask, "What? Grandma's not mean..." I heard Dad scream and knew my time was up.
"You need to go, now !" I shouted, holding my phone between my shoulder and head while I grabbed my duffel that I had prepared some time before. I listened for her voice, but the phone fell to the floor and groans quickly drowned out anything that I would have found helpful. "Fuck!" I stared at my own phone angrily, before I launched it at the adjacent wall and shattered it into dozens of little pieces.
Blackness. I was surrounded by an infinite blackness that expanded beyond infinity into an infinitely boring negative fucking space. Beyond the infinitely infinite blackness was, you guessed it, more fucking blackness. I thought I was dead. It was a fair assumption! I had just fallen off a makeshift wooden bridge after being tackled by a massive balrog looking monster thing before falling into a sudden pit that came out of nowhere, where I fell for forever or so, before a bolt of red fucking lightning hit me in the skull.
So I decided I was dead, and thereupon decided to do something about it.
That decision led to me trying to use mind powers. I saw it in movies, I figured it could have been a possibility, but I was crushed under the boot of reality when my results came up negative for mind powers, the only test I was disappointed to get a negative on.
So I did the next best thing and started cleaning my crossbow, and yes Twilight that means exactly what it sounds like. When I tested it and launched off a good bolt (seriously, stop giggling like a middle schooler) I decided it was in working condition and looked around at the interesting infinity of jack shit.
Imagine my surprise when I came face to face with an angel. "Holy shit!" I shouted, floating/rolling/stepping backwards and colliding with another object, which spun me around and held me by the shoulders. It was a young woman with black hair that blended in with the blackness around me, scars all along her neck and wrists and blood red eyes. She was wearing a long black trench coat, black cargo pants and black boots, a black shirt tight on her midsection (it was very lovely to see, trust me. Well, minus the creepiness of her, well, being) and a smirk on her face.
I think we fucked it up, this isn't what I expected at all. She laughed, pushing me away, into the angel. He had brown spiked hair and steampunk looking goggles, a brown jacket over a simple blue shirt with a clock on it. He had a watch on each wrist, a chain that obviously led to a pocketwatch hanging out of his pocket. His eyes were bright orange and inquisitive, a genuine smile on his face.
Are you sure? We asked for a savior, and now we have one.
The woman scoffed, brushing her hair aside. Is that a fucking joke? This little cock won't be able to do shit against me, he's even missing a hand! No, we'll have to try something different.
I couldn't hide my bafflement, and I decided to make my presence known. "Excuse me? What are you two talking about exactly?" The woman looked at me like I was insane.
See? Doesn't even know about that prophecy bullshit. Clockwork, I'm telling you I can do this on my own.
The angel, Clockwork, pushed me away, letting me take my own feet.
That's because we haven't explained it yet, Sin. Keep time straight, or you'll end up messing it up.
She shrugged, looking at me again.
Messed up, messing up, will mess up. It's all relative. I thought you of all gods would know this, I mean really now?
I opened my mouth to try to bring common sense to the situation, but decided against it when both shot me a look of irritation.
No, you aren't dead yet, but if you don't try to survive you will be before the day is out. We might be confusing you, but trust that you will be okay in the end.
I tried to object once more, and opened my mouth only to be interrupted by the woman, Sin.
Shit, it's time. He's talking to Rarity. Cracks began to spiderweb up her side, the areas between changing into something completely different. Her hair began to turn a light brown, her clothing began to change color.
But with her last act, she threw me backwards, laughing. The angel watched as I began to fall again, without any discernible reaction, as though he knew it would happen.
You'll only complicate things, sorry!
Trust me, you don't know what complicated even is.
Then I hit the ground, and everything went dark again. Thankfully, I woke up to something that made a small amount of sense.
Twilight stares at me, mouth agape. "What!? That's what you want me to put down? What about that entire year of your life? The traveling from place to place? The explanation on how you got into that situation!"
I laugh, if only to lighten the mood. "That's the funny thing, I can't remember."
She stares at me blankly. "What. How do you not remember 'those horrifying years'?"
I shrug. "I adapted. How do you condone the murder the people I swore to protect?"
She doesn't answer. Or if she does, she does it after I fall asleep. I think I deserve a nap, don't you?
Before I fall asleep, however, I hear a voice, one I only remember because I had just spoken of it's source some time ago.
"He'll be ready soon, yes?"
"I'm not sure Kiana, it could be some time."
"Do what needs to be done, Twi. The longer we have him around the more danger we're in of his people finding him."
Author's Note
This took longer than expected. I hit a writer's block, more or less, and I couldn't decide how Adam would get into Equestria because I changed a lot in the other story.
This story will be going on a hiatus till the end of the first week of June while I finish up school and things like that, but I couldn't leave you with nothing.