The 4th Apocalypse

Hugh shuffled to the door, crunching broken plates, and tea cups still further into the carpet beneath his boots. He sighed as he stared out into the wasteland.

Just a few short weeks ago he would have been admiring his neatly manicured lawn, hedges, and flower beds. Or looking past them, with a scowl on his face, watching Jack at number 22 polish the penis-extention he called his car.

Now, there was mud, burnt out cars and garbage everywhere.

Not to mention the half-eaten human corpses.

The neighbourhood had definitely gone downhill.

The end of the world as he knew it had started, not with the much predicted zombie apocalypse, but with vampires. The rushed and untested vaccine had caused the werewolf plague, and the inoculation against THAT had caused the zombie apocalypse.

The first two apocalypses hadn’t bothered him, much.

The vampires were polite, had knocked at the door, and asked if they could come in. Hugh’s approach to Jehovah’s Witnesses had paid dividends: a quick “fuck off!” and a slam of the door in their face, and that was that.

The werewolves seemed mostly to be high school students interested only in taking revenge on their classmates, or having sex with them. So they left Hugh well alone.

Anyway, in the end, the lack of fresh blood had caused the vampires to die out, and the werewolves were only really a problem once a month.

The zombies were more persistent. They were thugs, vandals, and they hung around like a bad smell.

And boy, did they smell.

“You’ll be OK,” Jack had said. “They are only interested in people with brains”. Two days later Hugh had found putting a bullet slap-bang in the middle of Zombie Jack’s forehead somewhat satisfying.

In the end it was the fourth apocalypse that Hugh had found the most irritating.

The Ghost Apocalypse.

All the moaning, wailing was annoying but it was the throwing things across the room that really got his goat. Hugh had lost count of the number of plates, mugs and ornaments that had been broken.

Jack had been an irritating bastard when he was alive.

Dead, he was simply hell to live with.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s