E.V.I.L
This top paragraph was provided to us by my English 100 Professor at A University of Hawaii College. It is not my work, the only thing I own in the FIRST paragraph is the character Ulysses. The rest is mine.
[ It was dark when Ulysses awoke. Too dark. Was the power out? Ulysses fumbled for the clock on the nightstand and in the process knocked it to the floor. His fingers brushed the smooth face of his phone, which he grabbed tightly and laid upon his chest. His head was pounding and he was terribly thirsty. After clumsily kicking off his covers, Ulysses held the phone upright and pressed the âhomeâ button. The harsh glow of the screen hurt his eyes and he squinted at the sharp, bright background image of a tropical beach. The bar at the top of the screen read âno service,â and only 10% of the battery remained. There were also about a dozen missed calls and a bunch of text messages from friends and family. At a glance, most of the texts contained the word âHELP,â which Ulysses did not find amusing. You guys sure picked a great time for practical jokes. But what made Ulysses gasp and sit up was the date and time, floating over the clear, blue water and the dappled white sand like some sort of mirage. August 29, 2016. 11:34 p.m. Thatâs impossible! How could I have been asleep for an entire week?! Â ]
From shock or simply the inability to hold objects for a long period of time, his phone soon slipped out of his hand, crashing down onto his face. With a yelp and curse he sat up and angrily watched the phone slide down his chest and onto his lap, teetering on the edge of his thigh before clattering to the foor. âServeâs ya right, fucker.â He flipped off the phone and lay back down, turning his body away from the phone, as if he had a personal vendetta towards it. âWhat the hell's going onâŚâ Glancing back down, he adjusted his body and reached for his phone, setting it back down on his nightstand. His mind reeled, scenarios of what may be going on outside began flashing through his head along with panic and worry, hand gripping the bed sheet to somehow ground himself. Taking a shaky breath, Ulysses stared up at the ceiling and rubbed his face with his free hand, a frustrated snarl escaping his mouth when he realized there was no rational solution available as to why he was asleep for an entire week.
âFolly! Come Folly!...â He waited a moment, perplexed. No sounds of nails on the wooden stairs, nor the hardwood hallway all that was there was a thick air of choking silence. âAin't no use sittin around waitinâ for Folly, though that's all I do.â Bitter laughter filled the room as he gingerly picked up one of his legs and swung it over the edge of his bed, doing the same with the other. Ulysses looked around the room and whined softly, seeing his wheelchair so far away from him made his stomach churn. âSomeone must have been in here while I was out...I always leave it right next to me before I sleepâŚâ. He kept eyeing his wheelchair, sighing softly at his luck. I mean, who would have thought that a diver would get paralyzed from falling out of a window? Freediving and spearfishing was his own personal sport, with being so close to a marina he had access to ships that would take him out to the sea, where he felt most at home. Owenâs mother always chided him and told him that that hobby of his would get him killed or hurt. At least he can still tell her she was wrong. The window was truly an accident that shouldn't have happened, he had been trying to fix the squeak that came out of his second story window per Owens forceful request, the sound was getting on both of their nerves but Owenâs frail body made the annoyance painful. When he leaned on it instead of the wall, the windows framework came loose and he fell with it down to the concrete sidewalk. To everyone it was a blessing that the only severe consequence to that was being paralyzed from the thighs down. Shaking himself from his trance, he decided he had enough of reminiscing. Thankful that the house seemed empty, Ulysses held his breath and let himself tumble to the floor, exhaling sharply when the room and his head stopped spinning.Â
Each time he lifted his body with his arms, pulling it a few inches forward, he felt a chip at his pride. âGoddamn...bullshit-â He took a deep breath and collapsed next to the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ulysses held his wrist up and began to talk to his watch. â-L.I.V.E. assist me, if you still can.â The L.I.V.E watch was one of the first devices given out by the L.I.V.E company. Its main function is to locate other devices that have also come from the company. Surfing the internet taking pictures and notes was another attribute to the watch, it was highly durable and received updates from the company wirelessly. Rolling his eyes, Ulysses somehow wasnât surprised that the watch still worked, uncomfortable relief flooding his veins as he heard the contraption whirr to life. âRight away, Ulysses OâMalley, what would you like me to write down for future use, Ulysses OâMalley?â If looks could kill, surely the watch would be instantly vaporized. âOne, just call me Ulysses, I thought I programmed you already? Two, scratch the note and scan the area for my rebreather, and my mobi-pack.â A couple beeps and a click later, Ulysses was relieved to hear the watch let out a magnetic pulse. Though an unsettling feeling churned in his stomach, had the company updated the watch? This seemed plausible due to the fact that it was acting as if it was wiped clean. If so what could they have possibly changed? After All the slogan was âAlmost Too Good to be Trueâ. The pulse was something that didnât really faze Ulysses, L.I.V.E corporation got the heat for that in the early stages of development, though they swiftly reassured the public that the pulse wouldnât hurt human nor animal. Even so, after the blast was sent out, he heard the faint sound of something scurrying around downstairs. . Combing a hand through his apricot hair, he scanned the room, naturally assuming he shouldnât stay in one place for too long. âOkay, come on think, grab a bag a couple changes of clothing and I guess a tooth brush?â. Taking another exasperated yet deep breath, Ulysses heaved himself onto his wheelchair, reaching down to adjust his legs, making sure they were in the proper position. Moving about his house would be easier now that he was in his chair. Probably.Â
Wheeling himself around, he grabbed his duffel bag and sat it on his lap, tossing in his phone, a couple notebooks and pens. Glancing back towards his window, the beams of light coming through pointed directly to a shelf in his room. Maybe a book wonât hurt? Ulysses moved over to his shelf and reached up, pausing when he saw how beautiful his ring looked when it was in the sunlight. He felt his blood go cold when the thought finally hit him. Where was his husband? Where was Owen? âL.I.V.E, scan the house for Owen, NOW.â He growled into the contraption, another whir brought the watch to life. âYour RE-BREATHER is downstairs in the keybowl, and your MOBI-PACK is under your pillow.â Ulysses felt his eye twitch, muttering a thank you between angered breaths. âOwen Argall is not in the establishment, last seen location of Owen Argall is half a mile from your current location, four days ago.â Beeping, L.I.V.E went back into sleep mode. At this point, Ulysses had enough of dawdling around.Â
Now frantic to find out where Owen had gone, he tried to move as fast as he could, rolling his chair over to the bed. Reaching under his pillow and pulling out the mobi-pack never felt so good. With the pack back in his possession it should be easier to get around, the L.I.V.E company tried its hardest to make life easier for those who affected by disabilities. By switching it on it could attach to a personâs wheelchair and motorized arms would push and pull the wheels wherever you wanted them to go. This is another feature of the watch, after syncing to the pack, all you needed to do is make your hand into a fist and tilt it in the direction you wanted to go. âThank god youâre still here buddy!â He tapped the on button, and felt all hope in his body drain when all the contraption could do was weakly alert him of its low battery. âWith my damn luckâŚâ Grumbling, he hung the pack on one of his wheelchair handles, making his way to the bathroom where he grabbed some soap a toothbrush and toothpaste. He wasnât about to lose hygiene just because heâs in a dire situation, though it was strange. Ulysses pondered the thought, letting it consume him as he mindlessly packed clothing. âHow is it possible that I've been asleep for a week...and, and my teeth arenât even close to being nasty? I mean, sâlike I brushed em a couple minutes ago, save for the minty freshness.â Adjusting the bag, he made his way to the door and leaned over, flipping the touch pad off of the door sensor in favor for the manual buttons. 8566. The door clicked and slowly creaked open, swinging out and gingerly bumping the wall as it came to a stop. âTime to see what hellfire my house looks like, without Owen this place turns into a pigstyâ.Â
Ulysses moved out of the room, arms rolling his wheels forward slowly, tentatively. Hearing his floorboards creak normally would fill him with warm relief, but now, it was ice cold. Stopping just above the ramp next to the stairs, he grabbed the clip that secured his wheelchair to the railing, so he wouldnât slide down and crash. Carefully, he eased the wheels over the edge and onto the ramp itself. The descent was slow and tedious, though Ulysses would raise hell if he had to climb back onto his chair due to recklessness.Â
Clutching his chest and the wheel on his chair, he leaned forward to get a little glimpse of what his living room had in store for him. Nothing so far, that was good, or was it? Ulysses unclipped himself when he felt his wheels hit flat ground again, caution gripped firmly in his hands. âWhere would you go...why did you leave?â Questions filled his mind as he went around to the kitchen, moving about the house seemed natural as if nothing was wrong. Though when he passed through the threshold, a sound made him stop in his tracks. âGrrrawllâŚâ A cold sweat soon overtook his body, hands becoming awkwardly clammy and shaky. âWhat the fuckâŚâ Ulysses stopped all movement, eyes now focusing on the two furry masses in his kitchen, shifting to the pool of blood on the floor that was gradually getting bigger. The sounds of squelching and the crunches of bones made him sick to his stomach, a hand quickly coming up to cover his mouth. Wide eyes darted around his home, wanting to find something to put between himself and whatever was in his kitchen. Gasping softly, he did a little victory wiggle when his eyes landed on his speargun, happiness relief and confidence flooded his veins, clouding his judgement and actions for just a brief moment.
âHell yeah!â
Oh boy did he regret shouting. Ulysses could only marvel at how fast his body moved. From the kitchen came an agitated sound, like claws trying to get a grip on tile, and a howl thatâll shake you to the bone. His arms ejected him from his wheelchair to the ground, landing on his stomach put him almost close enough to reach the gun. Gripping the carpet, he hauled his body forward and grabbed the weapon. He turned on his side, bracing the butt of the speargun against his knee to pull the band taut and ready it for firing. Ulysses never got that far. He turned onto his back when the snarling got louder, quickly holding the spear up as he tilted the tip vaguely in the direction of the animalistic sounds. Saying a quick goodbye to Owen, he squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, ready to feel the sharp fangs sink into his flesh and rip him to shreds. But as Ulysses failed, so did the creature, it never got to feel the satisfaction of annihilating another victim. Feeling the warm blood trickle down his hands shook him from his trance.
Slowly his eyes opened, a choked sob left him at the sight of what he stabbed. âF...olly?â Ulysses screamed and threw the spear to the side, the body of the animal moving with it, falling lifelessly to the floor. It had been his beloved service dog, a five year old corgi, Folly. âNo, come on girl, come on that- that canât be you right? Right!? Folly up! Come on dear, please!â Ulysses crawled over, shock overcoming reason as his hands gripped blood soaked carpet, the fibers drinking up the fluids easily. He pulled himself closer, tears already forming and falling. âWhat happened to you girl?â This wasnât the dog that he grew up with, sure it was her body but, it's as if she went feral. Ulysses took a shaky hand and gently pet Follyâs head, scratching behind her ear. A sliver of hope still remained that she would respond and get up, unscathed, as if she wasn't impaled through the chest. Dead to the world and bleeding out in a room she once brought to life.Â
After wiping his tears away, Ulysses knew that he had to quite literally pick himself up and carry on. Between heaving breaths, he pulled his body back to the wheelchair, which had toppled over in his haste to the weapon. âWhat the fuck is going on...first Owen now Folly? I need to get outsideâŚâ Ulysses grunted and tugged the chair back to its upright position, yanking his body back onto it. Taking a few more gulps of air into his lungs, he tore his eyes away from Follyâs body and leaned over to put his bag back onto his lap. After fixing the position of himself and his belongings, Ulysses reached behind him and made sure the mobi-pack didnât fly off as well. Finding the packâs location satisfactory, he moved into the kitchen, stomach lurching once more. âOh jeez!â Freckled hands flew up in surprise and nearly toppled the duffel bag off of him a second time. A corpse of what used to be the neighbor's cat was sprawled out on the kitchen floor, guts painting a macabre picture for the aghast man. âI thought this thing was an indoor cat?â Ulysses readjusted the bag and continued wheeling himself forward, wincing at how his wheel slid on the pool of fresh blood.Â
He rummaged around the kitchen for what felt like hours, heart and mind still numb from losing his best friend, hands mindlessly throwing canned food into the duffel. Making his rounds through the home wasnât easy, without Owen to reach the things that were put on higher shelves, he had to resort to some interesting tactics. Ulysses would like to think that heâs gotten better at some of his many alternative methods. Finally shaking off the majority of his grief, Ulysses emerged from the last room in his home, sporting a pretty sizable black eye. Turns out he wasnât as good as he thought.
For once he was glad that Owen enjoyed gardening, the gloves he found made it easier to stomach the blood that had been smeared onto his wheels. Moving past the corpse, he froze his movements when he heard it squelch. Surely it canât still be alive, right? Turning his head, all of Ulysses attention was on the cat, eyes widened with fear as he saw the head jerk towards him, pupils dilated and fangs bared. He wheezed and shifted his chair away from the beast, taking a note that its snarling sounded a lot like Follyâs when she attacked. Whatever made Folly go deranged had to also have affected the poor feline. Though for once in this whole ordeal, Ulysses could let out a semi relieved breath, for Follyâs incursion had severed its hind legs and crushed the fore. Ulysses took a couple seconds to mourn the loss of the two pets, trying to forget one of the two was currently hissing menacing threats to him. Looking down at Folly, he took another moment to truly remember all of the times they brought joy to each other's day. Gnashing his teeth in anger, he looked away and used his sleeve to wipe away stray tears, laying down a blanket over her body when he became composed. Moving towards the door, Ulysses took a glove off and grabbed his re-breather, switching the solar option on and putting the bite bar in his mouth. The apparatus covered his nose and mouth, allowing the air to be filtered through the device, making it breathable again. With a shuddering breath, he slipping the glove back on as he steadied his hands on the wheels, gripping them firmly, it was time to go.
What did he expect on the outside of his home? Not much, the neighbors next door asking if heâs seen the cat. The ones across the street questioning him if the mailman had come by yet, the same old same old. Ulysses was determined to open the door and see his neighborhood just as he left it, full of life but still quiet and quaint.Â
Chaos.Â
Fire licked at the heavens, using the cityâs skyscrapers to extend their reach, engulfing anything in its path towards the holy. Distant sounds of screaming and wailing creatures wafted through his neighborhood, shaking him to the bone. He carefully maneuvered his chair through the carnage on the street, hundreds of animals lay dead and massacred, some decapitated and others shot full of holes. From dogs to cats, birds mice and even deer and a couple bears lay dead on the asphalt. His eyes narrowed as he moved along, crossing the street to avoid some of the larger creatures. Family pets he had seen playing in their yards were hung by the street lamps, the poodle that terrorized the mail keeper had been pierced on a stake. Ulysses felt a thick coat of anger latch onto the back of his throat, choked sobs leaving his mouth as he hung his head, forcing his eyes to only focus on the path ahead. Childishly, he tried to avoid the situation altogether by simply not acknowledging it.Â
Ulysses wouldnât have minded traveling like this, just mindlessly strolling down his sidewalk in search for his husband. But with the added corpses it become a different story, for now the only thing that hasnât changed was the goal of finding Owen, the thought still lingering in the back of his mind. But because fate has a funny way of apologizing, Ulyssesâ goal just became a little more realistic.Â
Due to the lifelessness of the neighborhood, the once moderately boisterous street now could be used as a meditation hall. This being said, sound could now travel down the long road uninterrupted by other meaningless noises. A squeak, heard a couple houses down brought some life back to Ulysses, his head raising up after what seemed like an eternity.Â
âUly? I-Is that you?â Stuttered a voice, Ulysses looked up quickly and let out a breathy laugh. There he stood clutching what looked to be a modified baseball bat, spikes coming out of the tip, it wasnât the circumstances either of them wanted to meet in but this would have to do. Â âOh my stars, Owen!â Emerald eyes shimmered with hopeful tears as he excitedly pushed his wheels as fast as his arms could go, suddenly not caring if he ran over a mouse or a stray bird. âUlysses! I was just coming back to the house, how did you...g-get past Folly?â Owenâs voice was naturally soft, a gentle sound that was often compared to a songbirds. With his husband being so mellow it was shocking to Ulysses to see blood splattered on his clothing and body. âShe was rabid..All I could do was leave you in that room and go for help...Did she hurt you?â Owen asked, tucking his own long locks of hair behind his ear, face still dutifully relieved that Ulysses was seemingly unscathed.Â
âGlad to see you were coming back fer me! And yeahâŚâ The mood became somber, Ulysses slipped off the gardening gloves, gently taking Owenâs hands in his. A tender action, carefully smoothing them over, face grimacing at the callouses that Owen had accumulated over the past few days. âI...had to put her down...sheâs in a better place, somewhere far far away from here.â Looking up, he raised Owenâs right hand up and kissed it, the pair gazing into eachotherâs eyes. For a moment their glances fell upon their rings, both reflecting the sunlight beautifully. Ulysses was the first to break the silence. âNow that iâve found you...do you mind telling me about what this whole world has come to?â He chuckled, bashfully looking away when Owen took his hands back, Ulyâs own donning the gloves again.
âWell...The company who helped us purify the air, and make technological advancements with the Mobi-Pack, they...were working on somethingâŚâ Owen got behind Ulysses and helped push his chair along, a soft thank you coming from Uly. âI ran into a lot of folks that were trying to escape, ones that worked in the building.â He paused, moving the chair around a carcass of what probably was a deer. âThey said the company had two new ideas to make a better profit. One was to harness the raw abilities of animals.âÂ
Ulysses could feel the anger crawling back up his body, having an inkling where this was going. âHow would they even attempt at doing that?â He asked, looking up at Owen.
âIâm not too sure about that...but the second one...wait, do you still have your watch?â Owenâs eyes widened and he squeaked, letting go of the chair in favor of moving to Ulyssesâs side to take off and crush the watch. âWOAH! Babe what are you doing? Whatâs that for?â Now at a loss as to whatâs happening, Ulysses could only gape at Owen.Â
âI-Iâm sorry but I had to! Every time I used my watch to try and contact someone or check for any updates from the company the animals would go insane.â Lifting up his shirt, Owen revealed a poorly bandaged area of his stomach. âDo you remember the chubby cat that Mrs. Dorris had?â Owen inquired, to that Ulysses nodded and snorted.
âThe really fat one that can't even use the doggy door?â âYes..that's the one, it attacked me out of nowhere right after I tried to contact you. Even Folly started barking and growling at me!âÂ
The pair shared a worried glance and with Ulysses nod of approval, Owen tossed the mobi-pack to the side. âThe re-breather too, it was all lies Uly...I can breathe just fine and Iâve been out here for a week straight...They were lying, to get us to invest in themâŚâ Cautiously, Owen reached for the breather, taking it off of his partner.Â
âThis is just insane...weâre like a herd of sheep...did you meet anyone else?â Ulysses asked, discarding the gloves to his lap, rubbing his temples out of pure exasperation. âI did. It was one of the scientists.â âDid they have a cure?â Ulysses asked, disbelief in his voice, anger pooling in his fists. âNo...Not yet, there are a few scientists holed up in the company's lab, trying to fix this mess they started.â
The pair stopped at the exit, looking down the hill that their homes resided on, overlooking the city and all that it used to be. Cars piled on the side, bodies of animals and humans alike crushed together, various screams and pleas for help still rung clear to Owenâs and Ulyssesâ ears. âSo what now?â Owen whispered, hands gripping each other so hard they had forgotten what circulation felt like. âIts simple.â Ulysses took Owenâs hand again, trying to soothe his anxious nerves. âWe get to the lab, we fight back.â
âCan we do it?â
âWeâll never know until we try.â
âTogether?â
âTogether.âÂ
Owen smiled down at Ulysses, the pair looking beyond the city. The glow of the evening sunset already began to take over the sky, an almost eerily calm view. âThere's a place Iâve been staying at just down the road, weâll be safe there.â Owen said, his resolve coming back thanks to his lover. Nodding at Owen, Ulysses couldn't help but wonder what theyâve done to deserve something like this. âWeâll take back our world.â Ulysses thought, eyes looking down at a flier from the L.I.V.E company, floating helplessly in a puddle of rainwater. âI donât know if we can do it alone, but we have to try. Iâm not gonna let their mistakes change my future.â He reached down to grab the flier, holding the soggy paper carefully, turning it around and sneering into the back of it. âYou took our lives, our home, and our Folly. Youâre not having us.âÂ
Ulysses dropped the paper, now forgotten on the ground. The flier now being fully translucent, showed the reversed text that seemed to laugh at their plight, almost saying to the pair âyouâre doomedâ. If only it knew how wrong it was.










