The Beginning of An Apocalypse

Marcus heard shouting and he hoped they were thinking of some way to help him. The one clear sentence he heard was said by Gabriel. “Pick him up and bring him to the box. Hurry!” Gabriel had shouted.

He fell to the ground and he could not hold in the cries or the tears. His body was an uncontrollable mess. He felt like his entire body was breaking. Like something was pushing his bones outwards and trying to settle in.

“No!” Marcus cried. “Please!” He begged but no one came.

He couldn’t feel it, but he knew someone was grabbing onto him. He moved his body and all his fear and his rage came out. The pain moved from his left side to his right. His pain hit the exact point where the person was grabbing him. And suddenly he wasn’t the only one screaming.

Marcus hit his head when he was let go and fell once again. Marcus was trying to focus on what was happening, focus on getting words out, that he didn’t notice the doctor in the bright white coat thrashing and screaming beside him.

“What’s happening?!” Someone shouted.

“Something wrong!” Another shouted.

“Shut it down!” The same person as before shouted.

“No!” Marcus knew that Gabriel had shouted that. He may be the only one who was still wanting to go through with this. “No one is shutting anything down!” Gabriel shouted and everyone was forced to listen.

How could this happen?

Marcus dug his nails into the ground hoping he would be able to escape. He saw the door and he saw the way out. He moved his body the best he could. Marcus could taste the metallic taste of blood in his mouth as he bit either his cheek or tongue.

The only pain he could feel was the pain in his neck and shoulder and the pain that was slithering around him.

“Get him!” Gabriel shouted. “Get him! Get him! Get him!”

Marcus felt the hands on him once again. And just like before, he felt the pain inside him go from one side of him to the side where he was being held. And in seconds he wasn’t being held anymore and his pleas weren’t the only ones that were being made.

With everyone that grabbed him and fell, he felt almost stronger. He felt like he could move. Marcus pushed himself up off the floor and took the next step to get up on his knees. Someone was in front of him. This person had a gun and was pointing it at him. Marcus couldn’t react to it.

The shot was piercing his ears as it went past him. And the man in front of him had fallen him.

This is crazy.

The sound of the man choking and the people screaming around him made his mind rush into a craze. The pain was getting worse but also getting better. The pain was forming into what felt like a sickness.

And he felt the balloon-like things coming up his throat. Marcus landed on his hands to hold himself up as he puked up what had been forcing its way up his throat. It was blood. But not his blood. It was black blood, it was shimmering even though there was no light.

He could not help it, he was getting sicker and sicker. He felt hot all over and the small balloon-like object came up his throat and popped in his mouth and only black and purple blood came from his mouth. It had an almost lead-like taste but no smell. Not that Marcus was focusing on any of his other senses at the moment.

He stayed there after vomiting up at least half a gallon worth of blood before the blood stopped forcing its way out. Marcus felt feverishly hot and he could not take it.

Marcus looked around the room hoping for help, but he didn’t see anyone. He saw too many things at once. A chair was now three chairs mixed. The blue walls were now a mix of black and green.

Marcus forced himself to stand and he wouldn’t let the pain or the feverish feeling stop him.

More people shouted, but now all he heard were sounds. Voices mixed and made unrecognizable sounds. He saw the blurs of people through his grey to almost black vision. The color of their coats made most of them up.

He pushed himself through the swarms of white blurs. He defended himself when they charged him. He pushed his arms out and pushed them. But the white blurs did not fall from where they stood, they were thrown maybe twenty feet away from him. The white blurs hit the wall and they didn’t get back up.

Marcus had no chance to sit here and wait for help. To sit there and wait for this to end because it seemed it wasn’t going to end. And if he was taken again, he was sure he was never going to get the chance to leave again.

Marcus forced the first step and then the second and third before he was wobbling enough to be walking. He wasn’t walking in the stable way he wished he was, but he was walking. He was moving and getting away from them.

He heard more shouts and he felt more people trying to grab onto him. None of that seemed to matter, all he could think about was getting out. Getting away. Being free.

In here he couldn’t see and he could barely breathe.

Marcus ignored everything else. He was losing too much and every part of his still-working body was telling him to get out of there quickly. Telling him to move and go find someplace safe.

Marcus made it to the door with a trail of white blurs behind him. They weren’t moving anymore and he wasn’t going to wait for them to move.

Marcus had his hands on the cold metal door and he pushed in. He saw the blinking light that was telling him he needed identification to get in and out of the building. He had no time for that. He heard people shouting behind him and they would soon catch up to him.

Marcus pushed with every bit of strength inside him. He used everything he had and with the sounds of cracking and breaking the door busted open in two pieces. One stayed on the frame by just an inch and the other went flying into the wall. He stared at the broken door, looking at what he had done with just a few pushes.

What’s happening to me, He thought to himself.

Marcus felt the sickness inside him get more robust and he knew he would puke up more of his blackened blood. He knew he didn’t have the time for that.

He had to get away.

Marcus pushed his way through, his hand on his throat, and he ran. Through the pain in his left side and the fever spreading through him, he ran towards the next locked door. He didn’t know if the same thing that happened with the last door would happen this time, but there were too many changes going on that he wasn’t sure of anything.

He clenched up his body and he ran towards the door with everything he had. Marcus hit the door and the sound was shattering around him. Marcus fell on his back, hitting his head against the metal ground. But he did not feel any pain from it. He did not feel any of it, just cold vibrations.

Marcus looked at the door and saw he had more than dented it. Marcus turned his head around, black and white blurs were running after him. He forced himself to get up and try again. He was far enough away to get a few seconds of a head start, but they were running fast and he slightly heard the gunshots that were going off around him.

Marcus pushed once more and the door came free. He ran from that door to find a smaller door that wasn’t locked. He pushed through it and made it to another hallway.

He heard his strained heartbeat in his ears. He could see less and less with every second that went by, so he didn’t waste his time. He remembered the path that Dr. Pen had taken him on to get here. There was an elevator just a few feet from him. He had to get there quickly.

Marcus picked up his pace after hitting the wall and almost collapsing.

Get out. Get out. Get out. His mind told him again and again. But there was another voice, something deep inside him that was telling him to stop. Not only to stop but to face the black and white blurs that were people chasing after him. The people that were trying to end his life. Something was telling him to chase them instead.

Marcus found the elevator while he pushed open the doors and fell to the ground with a bang. He heard the screams of a woman in front of him.

“O-Ou-Out!” Marcus said in his parched voice. “O-Out!”

The woman hit a button for the first floor and continued to cower in the left corner. Marcus got up on his hands and knees and crawled to face the door. As he moved he felt the balloon of blood coming up his throat. His mouth opened too wide and the blood spilled from his mouth. But there was something stuck in his throat this time. Something hard.

He tried to hack it up like a cat trying to get rid of the hairball in its throat.

And it came up, slicing his inner cheek it came up and out. It was a rock it looked like. Marcus couldn’t tell through his ever-changing vision.

Marcus grabbed it and clenched it inside his fist. His hand was now covered in his cold blood. Why wasn’t it warm?

The ding of the elevator stopping that sounded like an explosion in Marcus’s ears rang and the door to the elevator opened. Marcus dropped the small curved rock that came from his vomit and stumbled out the door.

The loud noises of people’s chatter were everywhere. And then it just stopped. He looked up at the blue and white and black and red blurs of people standing in front of him.

Marcus stood up from the ground and that’s when people started to shout and run. Their shouts sounded like canon and he hated it. Marcus ignored them the best he could and he moved. He pushed through the crowds of running people not knowing that he was leaving a trail of them on the ground behind him. And for a moment or longer, he hoped they never got back up.

He saw the bright light through the doors and windows clearer as he got closer.

“Stop him!” Someone had shouted behind him. “Fire!”

Marcus moved his body and ran even though everything inside him was telling him to stop. That he couldn’t do it. But he had to, he had no other choice. He didn’t know what was happening to him and why. He didn’t know what was going to happen to him. Marcus wanted to believe that he could be safe staying here, and that thought almost made him stop and turn around. But he trusted the voice inside him too, and the voice himself told him he had to get out.

That it is dangerous here and he won’t be coming out of this place if he stays.

He needed to go. He needed to go back to his sister.

Tears formed in his cold eyes as he thought about how angry she was going to be. How worried she must be. Doing this all for her wouldn’t mean anything when he comes back like this.

He pushed through the doors with not even half of the strength he used for the locked doors. He felt like his body was being torn apart and he found out it was because they were shooting at him and the bullets were connecting with his skin. They were hitting him but he did not feel them and he did not fall. He did not die. He saw when he touched his back that there was blood dripping, but he could not feel it.

Marcus couldn’t think about that right now. He forced himself through the doors and out onto the concrete ground and the gravel. He swung his arm when he saw someone bend down to grab him quickly.

The clearer blur of a man in a black uniform flew into the wall and fell into the ground head first. He didn’t get back up.

Marcus didn’t know if the man was dead or not and he wasn’t going to spend time checking. Whether out of fear of what he was going to see or because he knew he was out of time, he didn’t know.

He used the man’s gun as a support to stand up straight. He got up and he didn’t stop. He heard the red sirens that went off around the area and he saw the flashing lights. Everyone was in a panic. But so was he.

Marcus left dents in cars when he leaned onto them for a few seconds of break and support. He continued to jump from cars till he was out of the parking lot and onto the road. He turned to look to see that they were all still firing at him. They were still running after him. People were getting in their cars and he swore he heard the sound of a helicopter.

He turned to focus on the road. He had to focus on getting out of there.

Get me out of here, he thought, get me out of here.

Marcus still didn’t know what was going on, but whatever was happening to him wasn’t stopping. Neither were the people who were going after him. The people who were shooting at him. Marcus continued to run with his hand held over his mouth. He wasn’t going to be stopped because for some reason he can’t stop puking up black goop.

Marcus made it down the road with only two more blurry men running after him and then never following him again. He pushed his body to run down the road where he would find somewhere to escape.

He heard the sound of helicopters in the air. He heard vehicle engines turning on.

He heard the sound of leaves crunching. Of distant cars on the freeway. He heard too many things and they were doing no good for him.

He ran until he wasn’t in the middle of nowhere anymore. He ran through the woods to keep out of sight. He knew people were looking for them and he knew they weren’t good people. He thought they were, or at least somewhat good. He thought they would help him.

But they didn’t. They aren’t. They’re going to kill him.

He had to get away from them.

He didn’t know what else he could do.

But Cas would. He thought of Cas, Cas would know how to help him. How to stop them from running after him? He ran into the city, through the alleyways. Even though he lived in this place for most of his life, he couldn’t recognize anything. Where was he? Gabriel didn’t tell him.

Marcus continued to run and he found the Golden Gate Bridge standing above him. He looked up at it with his blurry eyes and he thought, Maybe she’s over there.