I kept running, my breath coming out in ragged gasps as the chaos of the world burned behind me. The streets were a mess—overturned cars, debris everywhere, and distant fires lighting up the night. Shadows flickered in alleyways, and the faint sounds of screams and inhuman growls echoed from every corner. I had occasionally seen other survivors but they were quite far from me and running in opposite directions from their own pursuers. Some even fighting others with strange powers. My legs burned, but I didn't stop. I couldn't.
Rigby, though now just a tattoo on my arm, provided a strange sense of calm. I could feel his presence and it helped knowing I wasn't entirely alone.
I kept moving, ducking through side streets and avoiding the larger roads, until I finally spotted a small bookstore café tucked away at the end of a quiet block. The windows were dark, but something about it made me slow down. It looked untouched, unassuming—like a small pocket of normalcy in a world falling apart.
I approached cautiously, glancing around to make sure nothing was following me. The door was locked, but I could see the inside lock through the glass—a simple latch. Taking a deep breath, I reached out with my telekinesis. I could feel the familiar hum of power as I concentrated, focusing on turning the latch without breaking the door. It took a few tries, but with a satisfying click, the lock turned, and the door creaked open.
Slipping inside, I closed the door quietly behind me, making sure it was locked again before drawing all the blinds and curtains. The last thing I needed was to be spotted by something—or someone—outside. The place was small but cozy, with bookshelves lining the walls and a small café counter at the back.
I flicked the light switch, half-expecting nothing to happen, but to my surprise, the lights came on. This place still had power. I exhaled in relief, making my way toward the back of the café area, where a small sink and a stack of clean rags sat.
"Thank God," I muttered, turning on the hot water and grabbing a rag. I splashed water on my face, scrubbing away the grime and dirt from the night's ordeal. My reflection in the metal of the sink was worn—eyes tired, face smudged—but alive. I carefully cleaned myself up, letting the hot water run over my hands as I washed off the sweat and dirt. After finishing up, I looked at Rigby's tattoo and whispered, "Your turn."
With a thought, the tattoo flickered, and Rigby reappeared, scampering out of the mist. He was a mess, his fur matted with dirt and debris. "You look like you've had it worse than I have," I chuckled, setting him down gently on the counter and running a wet rag over his fur. He squirmed at first but eventually settled, letting me clean him off. "Good boy," I muttered, wiping his face clean.
After cleaning myself and Rigby up, I plugged my phone into the wall. The charging symbol flickered to life on the screen, and I felt a surge of hope. The world was collapsing, but at least some things still worked. While the phone charging, I wandered over to the bookshelves, my eyes scanning the titles.
There was something calming about the smell of the books—paper and ink. I ran my fingers over the spines, pulling out a few that caught my attention. A thin, old volume with a faded cover read, "Taking Care of Orphaned Animals: A Guide to Rehabilitation". I flipped through it, glancing at the sections on small mammals. There were entire chapters on raccoons, squirrels, and other wildlife, covering everything from feeding schedules to emergency care. I smiled, tucking the book under my arm.
As I scanned the shelves for more useful material, I found two more books that caught my eye. The first was "Survival Tactics for Urban Disasters", a thick, practical guide filled with everything from building makeshift shelters to finding clean water in a city. I flipped through the pages, pausing at sections on scavenging food, basic first aid, and creating emergency gear from everyday items.
The second was titled "Edible Plants and Foraging: A Practical Field Guide". It had clear, colored illustrations and descriptions of plants that were safe to eat, their medicinal uses, and where they could be found in urban and wilderness environments. It even had information on avoiding poisonous plants, which seemed like something I should know if the world was going to stay like this for long.
Satisfied with my haul, I brought the books to a small table near the café counter and sat down. Rigby hopped up onto a chair beside me, watching as I laid out the books and started to go through my bag, rearranging my belongings. The family photo of me, my parents, and my brother was safely tucked away in a side pocket. The solar-powered battery pack was now buried under layers of clothing. I carefully tucked the two survival books into the bottom of my backpack, along with the animal care guide.
My school backpack was now stuffed with clothes and essentials, while my telekinetically lifted duffel bag held food and tools. Rigby curled up beside me, watching as I worked, his little body finally starting to relax.
With my gear sorted and a plan forming in my head, I leaned back in the chair, letting the quiet of the bookstore settle around me. The world outside was on fire, but for now, in this little pocket of safety, I had a moment to breathe.
"We'll figure it out," I said softly, looking down at Rigby. He let out a soft chitter, curling up tighter as he drifted off to sleep.
Tomorrow, I'd have to face the world again. But tonight, I was safe.
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The soft hum of the café's overhead lights and the quiet crackling of the old heater provided a strange sense of normalcy as I sat in the bookstore, organizing my things. For a brief moment, it felt like I was just another college student pulling an all-nighter with a stack of books instead of hiding from the nightmare that had overtaken the world. That is, if you were ignoring the occasional screams and sirens that reverbarated across town.
I glanced down at Rigby, who had already fallen asleep in the chair beside me. His breathing was slow and steady, the rise and fall of his small chest soothing. I couldn't help but smile. Despite everything—despite the chaos, the monsters, and the sheer terror of the last few hours—Rigby seemed content, curled up in this makeshift sanctuary.
I turned my attention back to my phone, now charged enough to check for messages. The screen lit up, but there were no new notifications. I scrolled through my contacts, hovering over Jon's name. There was still no way to reach him. No signal, no service. I swallowed hard, the weight of not knowing gnawing at me. I had no idea where Jon was or if he'd made it through whatever disaster had struck. For now, all I could do was hope that he had found shelter somewhere.
The adrenaline that had carried me this far began to wear off, and fatigue crept into my bones. My legs ached from running, and my head throbbed from the strain of using my powers. I stretched, standing up from the chair and wandering to the window. I pulled back the edge of the heavy curtain just enough to peer outside.
The street was quiet now, but not peaceful. Debris littered the sidewalk—broken glass, scraps of paper, even an overturned bicycle. In the distance, I could still hear the faint crackle of fire and the occasional scream or howl. The world was unraveling out there, bit by bit. I let the curtain fall back into place and returned to the table.
"We can't stay here long," I whispered to myself, though Rigby twitched in his sleep, as if sensing the unease. "We'll need to find somewhere safer."
The books I had chosen lay stacked neatly on the table, a strange comfort in a world falling apart. "Taking Care of Orphaned Animals" would help me take care of Rigby and could prove useful if I encountered other wildlife along the way. The survival books were like having a mentor in my backpack, giving me strategies to stay alive.
I opened the "Survival Tactics for Urban Disasters" book, flipping through the pages. One chapter stood out: "Securing a Shelter: What to Look for in a Safe Haven". It detailed how to fortify small spaces, the importance of hiding from sight, and how to scavenge in urban areas without drawing attention. Tips like blocking windows with makeshift barricades, keeping noise to a minimum, and creating escape routes caught my attention. This little café was nice, but it wasn't going to last as a safe spot.
As I absorbed the information, my mind wandered. The questions I had been avoiding all night came rushing back. What had caused all of this? What was that thing that had nearly broken into my apartment, and why had the world plunged into chaos so quickly? The trial realms, the strange powers, the beings like Loki—it all felt connected somehow. But the how and why were still mysteries.
I slammed the book shut, unable to focus anymore. There was no use dwelling on questions I couldn't answer yet. I needed sleep. I packed the books into my backpack and glanced around the café one last time. The warmth of the heater and the dim lights made it feel safe, but I knew better. Nowhere was safe, not for long. Still, I could grab a few hours of rest. Tomorrow, I'd have to figure out a real plan.
I knelt by Rigby and gently nudged him awake. He opened one eye, blinking sleepily at me, before stretching out his tiny limbs. "Hey, buddy," I said softly. "We're going to stay here for the night. Just need to make sure everything's in place."
Rigby scampered up onto my shoulder, watching as I methodically checked the locks on the front and back doors. I moved a few chairs in front of the doors and reinforced the windows by closing the blinds tighter and pulling down some thick curtains from the back of the store.
Satisfied that we were as secure as we could be, I settled down on one of the chairs, my backpack tucked close to my side. Rigby curled up beside me again, this time on my lap, his tiny body warm against me. I reached down, running my hand gently over his fur.
The quiet of the store was a strange comfort. In a world of chaos, I had carved out a little piece of safety for the night.
I leaned my head back, exhaustion finally pulling me under. My mind drifted, thoughts of Jon, the future, and the unknown blending together in a haze. Tomorrow would bring more danger—more uncertainty—but for now, I allowed myself a moment of peace and rest.
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