The Birth of the New World

Holding the towel tightly against my face, I turn away from my bed and rush over to my dresser to grab as much clothing as I can and stuff them into my backpack that was left lying next to it.

Rushing back upstairs, I try to avoid stepping in any of the puddles that I left behind. I would rather saw off my own foot, than touch anymore of that filth.

Safely back upstairs and far away from any bad smells, I decide to take refuge in what is left of our living room.

Dropping my towels on the old couch, I get to work on dressing myself. Only I run into some new problems as I try to do so.

For one, I’m a lot shorter now.

This t-shirt almost reaches my freaking knees. I look like one of those girls that go around wearing their boyfriend’s hoodies! I knew I got smaller, but jeez this really brings it into perspective for me.

Besides the size of my shirt, the only real problem I run into is when my horns get caught on it while trying pull my head through.

That’s going to get annoying real fast.

Thankfully, my underwear still fit for the most part, my rear and thighs having not shrunk much, maybe a size or two. I didn’t even bother with trying to put on my bra. I’ve obviously gone down quite a few sizes and would look like a kid trying on their mother’s pair if I wore them.

I feel so conflicted about this. On one side, I always wished they were smaller. But on the other hand, I never really got to ‘use’ them while they were big. Mmhhh…

Pushing aside my thoughts on my complete lack of a sex life, I pull up my jeans, zipping and buttoning them up. When I let go, they drop back down to the floor. For a while I just stand there and look at them.

I didn’t grab a belt…

Another trip down into basement and I come running back upstairs, gasping for fresh air with my prize firmly held in my hands.

Belt acquired; I try to reequip my pants. I immediately came to a new problem as I tried to tighten the belt. My tail Is getting in the way. I could tuck it into my jeans, but it would feel really uncomfortable to do that. Trying to leave my tail hanging out means wedging my jeans and belt right under my tail and I am not doing that.

Resigning myself, I take them back off and decide to cut a hole in the back for my tail to go through. Looking around and digging through my bag, I try to find my knife but can’t seem to locate it. Its sheath is in my bag, having put it there at some point, but my knife is missing...

“Oh! That’s right, it’s still on the floor in the basement, from when I tried to cut off my arm…” I say to myself.

Looking at my left arm, the source of all my problems over the last few days, I see the scars that still show on my skin. The scars, a darker grey than the surrounding skin, are a clear reminder of just how close I came to dying. Further up my arm is an even fainter line from where I had cut my arm in my desperation.

I can’t believe that I almost tried to cut my arm off. Pain must have been driving me crazy. I think to myself while staring at it.

Directing my attention up to my hand I notice my claws. If I don’t have my knife, then how about these. They seem pretty sharp.

Picking up my jeans, I get to work on trying to cut a hole for my tail. Surprisingly, the claws on my hand have little trouble piercing through and cutting the material. In a little while I have a rather shabby hole cut open just below my belt. Without some sewing work, the hole will eventually tear open wider. But it will have to do for now until I can get something better.

Working the pants back on, I try to grab the tip of my tail, but it pulls away from me.

What the hell?

Grabbing at it, it continues to dodge out of the way until I am spinning around on the spot, one hand holding up my pants, as I chase after my own tail. For a little while I actually start to find it a little fun; that is until I trip over my pants leg and fall to the ground face first.

Rear-end sticking up in the air with my pants fallen around my knees, my face heats up in embarrassment.

As seriously as I can, I get back up and grab my tail by the base and slide my hand up to its end. Feeding it through the hole in my jeans, I tighten up my belt and am FINALLY dressed.

“Never in my life would I have thought I be so happy that everyone is dead or gone. If anyone saw that I would never be able to live with myself...” I say as I try to get my embarrassment under control.

Deciding to focus on something else I sit down on the old couch and ‘try’ to slip on some socks. It doesn’t go very well.

The claws on my feet keep catching on to the material and after ripping a hole through one sock, I quickly decide to give up on wearing them.

Wearing my boots also doesn’t go as planned. When I try to put them on, they are far too loose, as I’ve apparently gone down a couple of sizes for shoes as well. Not too surprising in retrospect, but still a rather big disappointment; I liked my boots.

“Am I just going to have to go barefoot until I find a pair that fits? I think I had some sandals around here somewhere; I can probably tighten them to make them fit.” I say getting up.

After some searching, I manage to find them buried in a closet with some of my parents’ other shoes and stuff. The apocalypse is hardly sandal wearing weather after all.

Digging them out, I try slipping them on and tightening them. It works for the most part, but they are still rather loose. Not something that I would be able to run in. Not to mention that the flopping sounds they make as I walk will make stealth rather difficult.

With a huff I kick them off and decide to put off the problem until later. I have other things I need to worry about. The biggest being that I am starving. I have no Idea how long I was in that bed, but considering just how changed my body is, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up being a few days or even a week.

How the hell am I still alive?

Heading back to my bag, I fish out one of the cans that I found from who knows how long ago. Taking out the can of salmon I try to figure out how I am going to do this.

Our cooking supplies and stuff are downstairs, and I am not going down into that smell to cook food. Do I even need to cook it? I’m pretty sure that most canned foods are safe to eat without cooking, plus I’m mutated now. Can I even get food poisoning anymore?

A rumble from my stomach ends up being what makes me decide to just eat it as is.

Looking back at the can I come to a new problem, no can opener. It doesn’t even have a little pull tab like the can of beef stew did.

I could go downstairs and try to find one, or… Looking at my hands I decide to try something.

Using a couple of my claws I stab into the lid of the can. They pierce through with barely any resistance and next thing I know I am peeling open the can as if it were made of paper.

Ripping off the now shredded lid, I reach my hand in and start munching away at my meal. While I eat, I can’t help but think about my claws.

These things are really sharp, won’t I end up accidentally cutting myself if I’m not careful?

Feeling risky and a bit high on power after brutalizing a poor can. I for some reason decide to try cutting myself with one of my claws. Using one of my claws I slide it down my left arm and nothing happens. I try pushing harder and harder but surprisingly my skin refuses to be cut.

Feeling honestly curious, I grab my arm and try to stab my claws into it. Despite pushing hard, my skin simply refuses to be pierced.

It’s not until I take an actual swipe at my arm that one of my claws manages to break through and draw a bit of blood.

“Ah shit!” Cursing to myself, I set aside my half empty can and try to stop the bleeding.

Reaching over I grab one of the towels and push it on the cut.

Ah, I’m such an idiot! Why the hell would I do that?!

Pulling away the towel to check my wound, I find nothing, but unmarked grey skin slightly died red from wiped away blood.

It had only been for a few moments, but the shallow cut had already healed.

“Huh…”

Sitting in the living room a while after finishing my food, I find myself wondering about what I should do.

There’s the problem of needing to catch up with my family, which is going to be difficult enough as is. Also, there is the warning that was in mom’s letter. She said that the military is pulling out because of increased monster activity in the area. So, it’s going to be too dangerous for me to stay here much longer.

Of course, the biggest problem is that I’m not exactly human anymore. I’ve spent the last couple of hours trying not to think about it too hard, but I must face it, I’m not human anymore. It doesn’t matter how cute I am now, If the military sees me, they are probably going to shoot at me.

And what would my parents think? What about Anna? Would they be ok with me being like this?

Looking out the broken window, I take in the rare view of a clear sky. It’s not every day that I get to see the sun.

“Huhhh, now that I think about it, Anna might actually be ecstatic if she sees me like this. She is even more of weeb than I am.”

Looking back down from the busted window, I direct my attention to my lap where I am playing with my tail.

So weird to think about being mutated. I have horns and a tail now, an entirely new limb is just here, on my body. What am I supposed to do about this? I guess I could freak out, but honestly, I’m just happy that I’m not in pain anymore. In fact, I feel pretty great physically. I just don’t know what I should feel. Should I be excited?

“Hah.” Exhaling in frustration I stand up and grab my bag.

“No point in thinking about it too hard, let’s just catch up with everyone else and then I can figure out what to do from there. It’s not like I can undo any of this anyway. I’m just going to be happy that I’m not a giant slobbering mutated freak with a hunger for human flesh. It could be worse.”

With that decided I set myself to a task that I am not looking forward to. I need to pack.

Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue. The problem is that all my stuff is down in the basement. An enclosed space that currently smells like a sewer full of corpses. How it is that my body produced and expelled such a foul substance is beyond me and I do not want to think about it.

Gathering my courage and few last lung-fulls of fresh air, I wrap my towel around my face and then head downstairs.

It takes longer than I would have liked, but after a couple of trips up and down the stairs, I managed to grab everything that I should need.

Packing a couple changes of clothes, the rest of our dried meat and as much preserved food as I can. I also grab a few extra bottles to fill with water along with our iodine packs and some more medical supplies. Although I’m not entirely sure that I will need the stuff considering how fast I apparently heal.

I don’t bother bring a flashlight or an electric lantern since my night vision is so good, but I do make sure to grab some supplies for starting fires. Lastly, I pack a map, the solar battery charger, and my phone and ear buds. The internet may be gone, and all the satellites destroyed, but my cellphone still serves as a perfectly functional music player.

The last thing that I grab before leaving and locking the basement is my knife. This entire time it had been sitting on the floor where I threw it, still covered in dried blood from that damn poodle.

I sit on the floor of the living room again shortly after I finished packing. My bag packed full of supplies, lies against the wall next to me as I work on cleaning my knife. The dried blood is annoying to clean, but if I leave it on there the blade will be ruined. So, I just keep scrubbing away at it.

I’m about to leave home… I’ve lived here my whole life and now I am leaving…

Looking around, I take in the ruined state of my childhood home. The windows are busted, there are holes in the ceiling, the old furniture and the floor is all suffering from water damage. Looking at the walls, I find myself honestly surprised that they are still standing after all the earthquakes they endured.

When I leave this place no one will be left to take care of it. The forest will swallow it up just like everything else in the area. I don’t even know if I will ever be able to come back here again. Would I even be able to find it? After a few more years, this entire area will probably be nothing but forest.

Having finished scrubbing the last of the blood off my knife, I wipe a quick layer of oil onto the blade and then put it away in its sheath on my belt.

Standing up, I come to a decision.

“Fuck it, I’m burning the place down. It’s my house, I’m not just going to leave it here to rot or become a den for some dirty goblins!”

About an hour later I am standing on the road in front of my house as I watch my family home burn to the ground. All it took was an oily rag and some dry wood, and in short order the house was ablaze.

Turns out I was right about the walls; it didn’t take much for them to finally give out and collapse once the fire started to spread. I can only be grateful to the old house for holding out as long as it did.

With the walls collapsing, everything in the basement will be buried away. It’s sort of reassuring to know that maybe some of my family’s memories will be buried out here. Maybe in a couple thousand years someone will dig up our stuff and put it in a museum or something?

Well, that’s if humanity manages to live that long…

I stand there for a while longer, just watching the flames consume my childhood home. I’m not too terribly concerned about the monsters or the fire spreading. Why should I? The fire will keep any prowling monsters at bay, and quite frankly, I am beyond caring about starting a forest fire right now.

Hell, if it did it might even kill a few of the bastards. And it’s not like the trees won’t be back in a year or two. So, I just stand there and watch.

It doesn’t take too much longer until more walls give out and the ceiling collapses in on itself. I look on as a wave of ashes, embers, and heat escapes from the collapse and gently washes over me from my spot on the road.

With a deep breath I burn this last image and memory of my home into my mind. This is probably the last time I will ever see this place.

With a tear running down my cheek, I turn around and start following the road south. I have a long walk ahead of me.