The Abyss Stares Back

“The Abyss Stares Back”
Tom Badhammer

The world seemed so different without electricity. Sitting on a rooftop in the inner city high rise the man sat staring up at the stars. It was all so different, but very much the same; he never used to be able to see the stars at night in the city. It still smelled awful and there seemed like there was still no real purpose. Above the city the starlight pierced the black empty void, giving the illusion of normal life; but many of these stars had burned out lifetimes ago. Looking up at the stars was just like looking at the undead below, they both existed even though they should be dead and gone.

“Everything is dead,” the words came as naturally as any he had ever spoken even though they were the first in days. His eyes were wide and unblinking as the concept sunk in. On the streets below his rooftop safety a rotting legion of the undead writhed with an unnatural vigor. The building below him shook, there were so many of them that their shambling movement caused the earth to tremble. He thought about the ripples caused when a stone is thrown into a pond and wondered if the vibrations below were rippling across the dead space above him too.

A warm tear seared his sunburned face; he had been alone on this rooftop for days. He had been alone with only the sky above and the dead world below.

Staring at the sky, listening to the cacophonous chorus of moans and groans from the streets below, an idea began to take form in his mind. Thoughts of dying alone on this rooftop of starvation or being eaten by the things below collided with the concepts of how insignificant everything is. The conflict of survival had been paramount until now. What did life matter if the line between life and death were blurred, no, not blurred; the boundary had been erased.

They were so hungry, millions of the walking dead aimlessly searching for their next meal, they were so lonely too; they just wanted him to come join them. The undead wanted his flesh and his company. For the first time in his life he was important, it seemed that everyone in the world wanted to see him. But none of this mattered at all. As if he did not want anyone to hear him, not even himself, words escaped his parched lips “There is no point, no purpose, and no future”.

He laughed for the first time since he had watched the entire world die and come back to feast on the people who had survived. Insane laughter tore through his being as much as it tore his dry lips; he understood now that he was the punch line to the great cosmic joke. He continued laughing through clenched teeth as he bit down on the barrel of his gun; for the first time in days he had a meal, he ate hot lead.