Weekly Side Story, Ozzie 1 (Patreon)

There was nothing but silence. An endless void of sound and sensation that scratched at the insides of his mind like a thousand insects crawling along his gray matter. He could feel nothing, see nothing, smell nothing, but he knew. He knew himself, he knew the universe, he knew who he was, but he did not know where he was. It was as if he was awake during a dreamless sleep, a feeling that was so eerie and uncomfortable that all his conscious mind could ask for was for it to end, one way or another.

Then he woke.

His lungs filled with air with a sudden seizing gasp, his chest rising high as his back arched. His fingers splayed and twitched, his eyes rolled back into his head and he jerked, whacking himself in the face against something hard.

“Ow! Ow ow owuh! That hurt! Son of a- who put this here?” Ozzie griped, reaching up to slap his hand against cold metal. “Huh?” He grunted and whipped his head around, why’s it so dark? This ain’t my cab. He reached up and pat the space on either side of him, hard walls made of equally cold metal. It felt like he was inside a refrigerator. It was so cold. “Wha-what? Where the hell am I?” He gasped, reaching around for something to grab onto. There were some kind of handles on either side of him.

His brain worked slowly for a moment, it felt like his head was full of soup. He tried to remember what had happened before, why he was here. I picked up that guy, took him to the hotel, uh… asked for fare and… He gasped and reached up for his throat, patting it frightfully. He fuckin’ stabbed me! That asshole! He pressed his fingers against the back of his neck, No wound though… Wait… was I dead?

His thoughts drifted aimlessly for a moment before righting on a crime drama he’d watched in his lonely apartment, I’m in a morgue! He realized, reaching up over his head and pushing, This is a door right? Or a drawer? Do I kick down? Nothing happened when he pushed up but when he kicked down with his feet the refrigerated drawer he was inside shifted a bit. He sighed with relief, I guess they don’t lock these things, He thought and kicked a few more times before he was able to slip his fingers out and leverage it the rest of the way.

He maneuvered the drawer open and found himself in an empty room, it was dark, with only the faintest amount of lighting overhead to allow night crew to navigate probably. He rolled out onto the floor and felt his strength leave him for a second. Shit fuck shit! He groaned, scrambling to get back to his feet. Oh man, this suck so much, what happened? How am I still-

“I’m light-touched,” It hit him like a head-on collision. The realization almost sending him back to the floor. “I’m light touched, and I can’t… die?” It was so strange, it was like he simply understood how it worked, how his body had changed. Like an instinct that went beyond the base desire to eat and reproduce. The things his instincts told him, though, weren’t all sunshine and daisies. No no no no no, please no, please just be mixing things up because of a bad movie.

He looked around quickly, trying to find something reflective. Most everything was locked up in cabinets, there was even a padlock on a refrigerator. He didn’t want to know what was in it. He bumbled around until he spotted a metal tray on a rack on the other side of the room. He lumbered over himself trying to get to it, his limbs still not working quite right. They felt awkward and loose but also incredibly strong. It’s my brain, something wrong with it, the limiters are off? What does that mean?

He’d seen it in a documentary once, not that nonsense about humans only utilizing a small portion of their brain for conscious function. That was misleading. No, the fact that humans only used a third of their maximum muscle potential, it was to protect the body and control metabolism. My instincts tell me that it’s off, completely. He thought as he finally managed to get his loping body over to the tray. He pulled it out and lumbered over to one of the nearest lights before flipping it around to look at his reflection.

Dead eyes stared back, white, lifeless.

I’M A FUCKING ZOMBIE!

His skin wasn’t pallid, maybe a little pale, and he couldn’t smell any rot on himself either, but otherwise he looked as dead as a doornail.

He dropped the tray ran his fingers through his hair, I gotta get outta here, if someone finds me I’ll be the first area fifty one test subject for sure. Or I might end up as a lab rat for some evil company or… He imagined umbrellas and zombie apocalypses, Oh man, oh man, oh no. He looked left and right, there was only one door leading into the examination room where he had been stored. They were probably investigating his murder. But if I stay- nah, they’ll check the dash cam, it’ll give a better view than what even I saw. Can’t risk staying, gotta go.

He ran to the doorknob and turned it, it broke and the door opened.

“Oops.”

He dropped the knob and poked his head out the door, spotting the security cameras, Uh… He turned back around and went into the examination room, rifling through drawers. He found a lab coat in a cabinet, in one drawer he found some of the personal effect of one of the examiners, some sunglasses and a set of keys. He snatched those and then dug a bit more before finding a baseball cap. It’ll have to do, though now I look like that jerk that killed me.

He sighed, Don’t dwell on it, Ozzie, one step at a time, get outta here bud, you gotta get home. He paused, Home? What about my keys? Shit! He looked everywhere but couldn’t find them and eventually gave up the search. Damn it, I’ll figure something out. He reasoned as something caught his nose. It smelled amazing. He blinked and turned his head. What is that? He stepped over to the door and leaned near it only to hear footsteps approaching. Shit! Someone’s coming. A person? Is that what I smell?

He swallowed hard, This is bad man, this is so bad.

He didn’t have time to waste, he slipped out the door and ran in the opposite direction of the approaching footsteps, hustling down the hall and rounding a corner. There was a door up ahead that had a sign for pick-up and disposal. There! He raced to the door and hurriedly grabbed the keys out of his pocket, fumbling with them as he grasped the handle. It turned easily before he even put a key inside, Oh… it opens from the inside. Neat. He mused a little merrily, a manic laugh burbling up his chest. He could hear the footsteps again, moving a bit quicker this time.

Focus, Ozzie! He screamed at himself and threw the door open, staggering out into a dimly lit loading dock connected to an alley. He whipped his head around, Which way do I go? What street am I on? Oh man, this sucks! He whined and hopped off into the alley nearly bowling over with how loose his joints were. Oh come on! He caught himself after a few false starts, stumbling about like a drunk until he managed to get to his feet again. He turned on his heel and froze.

A low growl filled the alley.

He felt his lifeless heart sink.

The hound’s eyes glowed in the dark.

“Uh…” He tried to force a smile, “Nice puppy?”

It snarled and lunged at him, he let out a scream of terror and turned trying to dash away and only managing to collapse again into a tangle of limbs. The hound landed on his back and tried to bite at him but he scrambled beneath it, forcing himself up to his knees and cracking the back of his head against it’s muzzle. It let out a whine of pain just as he clutched at the back of his head, My hearts not beating but I can still feel pain, what the hell man? This sucks!

He stumbled a few steps before glancing back at the dazed creature. He caught a whiff of something again and swallowed hard. It wasn’t the person I smelled… it’s so strong now… He wiped his lips free of the drool that had begun to form. I smelled… the monster? It does smell really good. Like… really really good. He swallowed again, Maybe… just a bite? Just one won’t hurt, right?

He turned fully to face the creature and lunged.