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While Sam and Frodo grudgingly board the bus that will take them back across the Manhattan Bridge and away from their desired City Pizza, a miserable intern working at a prestigious law firm in Midtown has finally managed to escape the office for a much needed break.
-_-
Eric looks up at the partly cloudy sky, sucks in a deep lungful of polluted air, then pinwheels in an attempt to keep his balance when a passing New Yorker on a Citi bike nearly knocks him off of the sidewalk without a second glance. Eric just manages to not fall though his messenger bag isn't as lucky—the pack slips from his shoulder before he can catch it and tumbles to spill its contents onto the dirty concrete.
"Brilliant," he mutters sarcastically to himself while he crouches to gather the mess of his meager belongings. "Just brilliant."
He takes care to save his well worn heavy copy of the collected The Lord of the Rings before it can become trampled and dusts off the muddied cover with a despondent frown. It's only after he rescues his precious book that he notices his phone's screen is cracked from the fall, and no amount of tapping or button pushing will wake the device up. He sighs heavily, thinking to himself that it's just his abysmal luck that this already shite day is only getting worse.
Eric hasn't even been in the States for two whole days and he already despises being here. His expensive apartment is tiny and dingy, he loathes the underground subway commute, and the crowds and overall volume of the city makes him want to run and hide from the commotion. He never even wanted to be in New York at all, though it's not like he's had much of a choice in the matter.
Today happens to be his first day at some esteemed, snooty law firm, one that his father was proud to have gotten him an internship with for the summer before he moves on to attend law school at NYU for the upcoming fall semester. He'd barely managed to finish his grueling undergrad schooling in London when his parents declared they were sending him off to America to uphold a long family tradition.
"You'll become a great lawyer someday, Eric," his father had told him in a tone that Eric knew he couldn't argue with. "Just like your mother and I are, and my father was before me and his father was before him. We've all studied across the pond, it's what's made us such esteemed barristers in our times."
And while that fact might be true Eric can't say that he shares the same ambitions as the rest of his family. He never has, but it's not as if they would accept anything else from him. He wants to entertain, he wants to make his living doing something that lets him be theatric and free. The last thing he ever wanted was to end up trapped in a stuffy office or courtroom setting day in and day out. And he certainly doesn't intend to turn out as snobbish and patronizing as his parents are.
He loves them dearly and knows they love him back, but that doesn't change the fact that for all of his life he's felt like nothing more than a puppet with their hands always controlling his strings, forcing him to do what they think is best whether he likes it or not.
So he's obliging them now by giving the law thing a good go, considering they paid his way and expect to be compensated in due time for their investment. But what they don't know is that Eric has other plans forming in the back of his mind now that he's halfway across the world from them.
He anticipates that by the end of the summer he'll be bracing himself for his parents' disappointment when he tells them he has prospects of his own and absolutely no intention of finishing his law degree or returning to Kent. Where he's going exactly or what he'll do instead is still unknown, because so far his life in the opportunistic American city is not turning out to be as freeing as he'd initially hoped.
When he had arrived at his place of employment that morning—after checking his phone for the umpteenth time that he had the correct street, correct building, correct floor, correct suite—he'd nervously approached the firm's receptionist, the tapping of his shoes over marble tiled floors echoing loudly through the hall as he went.
Still, the young woman hadn't acknowledged his noisy approach and only glanced up from her computer screen once he loudly cleared his throat after standing there for a too long awkward moment.
He smiled pleasantly with a wave of hello while she looked him up and down with an unimpressed sneer. He shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze, knowing all too well that he appeared less than professional for his first day at the office.
In his head he had tried to think of how he would casually explain to her that it was the only work appropriate garb he had on hand. He wanted to inform her that the dated brown suit was his father's from back when he first became a lawyer, presented to Eric as a last minute parting gift for good luck after the rest of his bags had already been packed away for shipping. He'd taken the offered clothing that he knew he couldn't refuse and shoved it all into his carry on, never knowing that his flight would be one of the last in the sky before sudden solar flares and inexplicable electronic disturbances grounded planes all over the world, including the DHL shipments that were meant to bring Eric's belongings to him in America.
Which meant that all he had with him when he arrived at JFK was the clothes on his back, the messenger bag stuffed with his wallet, passport, phone, and thick Tolkien novel inside, and a duffel bag containing his travel essentials as well as the garish, ill fitting gift.
And without the time or funds to find anything new to wear Eric had no choice but to show up on his first day looking like he'd played dress up as his father, which, he supposed bitterly, wasn't far off from the truth.
He realized too late that he'd explained none of this out loud while the receptionist continued to stare at him with disdain. He had debated breaking the ice between them with a trick, perhaps the ol' sleight of hand pull a quarter out from behind her ear bit, when she'd finally drawled, "can I help you with something?"
"Oh, ah, yes, right," he stammered around the nervous lump clogging his throat. "This is my, er, my first day here, I'm Eric—"
"Hang on," a loud voice suddenly called, making Eric jump. An older man in an impeccably tailored suit was standing in the firm's doorway with a tiny espresso glass in his hand. "You're Eric, as in Randall's kid, Eric?"
Eric blinked at his father's acquaintance and nodded in the affirmative. The man had looked him up and down, appearing just as unimpressed as the secretary.
"What is this, some kind of fucked up English prank?"
Eric stared at the man. "Um, no, I…I don't believe so…"
The New York lawyer sighed heavily. "Jesus Christ, that asshole owes me big time for this shit," he muttered, uncaring that the comment was loud enough for Eric to hear. "Just get the kid set up in the filing room," he had told his secretary.
Which is what led Eric to a windowless room lined with shelves where he was handed a box of old case documents and simply told to "file" with no further instruction. Eric had a strong hunch that this wasn't what his father had intended for him when he was sent there for a summer of work experience.
The hours ticked by slowly in that stuffy file room while Eric tried his best not to let his anxiety lead to a full blown nervous breakdown. The morning passed, then noon, then one, and by two o'clock in the afternoon all Eric could focus on was the persistent growling of his stomach. No one had informed him when he was allowed to leave for lunch, in fact no one had even checked on him all day while he aimlessly shuffled papers around back and forth with his trembling hands.
He had eventually worked up the nerve to poke his head out into the hallway. Once he determined that the coast was clear he swiftly retreated outside and down the block only to be nearly run over by a passing bicyclist.
Now Eric secures his heavy bag—broken phone and all—and slings it across his chest for safer keeping. This, he thinks to himself, was decidedly not part of his plan.
He meanders a couple more blocks towards the city's green oasis and what he hopes will be a quiet place to clear his head. While he walks he wonders where he can even afford to get a bite to eat in the area. Then he wonders if he should just keep walking and never return to the dreaded office at all.
He stops at an intersection across from Central Park and wallows in his own misery while he waits for the light to change. He jumps at the sound of booming engines momentarily overpowering the constant drone of the busy city as a pair of jet planes soar low overhead. Some New Yorkers stop to point at the sky, others pay the jets no mind as they go about their business.
Eric hasn't been in the city long enough to know if high speed flybys are a regular occurrence or if the uneasy pit forming in his gut holds any merit.
He startles again when the box next to him loudly chirps, indicating that he can now cross. A group of boisterous school children bolts around him first, oblivious to a taxi that suddenly comes careening around the corner towards them. Eric moves on instinct and uses his quick reflexes to grab the lead boy around the chest right before he can be flattened in the street.
A chorus of honking follows as more vehicles charge ahead, heedless of the red light that would normally force them to stop. They're all moving in the same direction, away from whatever the planes had been racing towards a moment earlier.
Eric looks from the sudden mad dash of traffic to the wide eyed boy whose life he just saved. He puts on a disarming smile that he hopes belays the frantic beating of his own heart.
"Best watch out for the yellow ones, eh?" he says.
The kid stares at him like he's grown a second head and shoves away from Eric with more force than necessary. He runs across busy street with his friends, clearly eager to get away from Eric as quickly as possible.
"Okay then," Eric mutters with a frown.
Though he supposes he can't blame the children for their lack of common courtesy. It's mid June so they've likely been released from school for their summer holiday and were not prepared to so soon face their mortality beneath some rogue taxi cab.
More honking follows as the traffic backs up, now stopped for blocks as far as Eric can see. He wanders around idling cars and has nearly reached his desired refuge in the peaceful, green park when he notices that the din around him has suddenly kicked up a notch as sirens wail from further downtown.
Most of the pedestrians on the crowded sidewalk have stopped and are pointing into the sky. Eric cranes his neck up just in time to see streaks of fire come hurtling through the clouds.
"What the…" he starts to himself, only to be drowned out by the alarmed mob surrounding him.
"Is that a meteor shower?!"
"Not during the day, dumbass, it's gotta be—"
"—global warming, fuckin' up the sky! I fuckin' knew it—"
"—'s the rapture! Oh my gawd, it's the rapture we're all gonna—"
"— die! Shit, we're under attack—"
The voices are drowned out by a violent crashing when one of the balls of fire careens towards the ground only a few blocks away. It tears through a skyscraper then hits the street with an impact hard enough to knock them all off of their feet and send a plume of thick smoke in their direction.
Eric goes down hard to a ruckus of screaming and car alarms as blinded vehicles suddenly slam into one another. Utter chaos erupts around him while Eric chokes and gasps, unable to even cough to clear his lungs in his panic. He has just enough sense to scoot himself backwards until his back is pressed against a solid brick wall right before a stampede of feet tramples blindly over where he'd fallen.
He can't see more than right in front of him through the foggy haze, but he can hear all too clearly when the screams turn more blood curdling than bewildered. A shrill cry directly in front of Eric is cut off to a strangled gurgling, followed by clicking and a shriek that Eric can only think of as inhuman. He can just make out a shadowed, impossibly tall figure through the smoke as it stands before him, rising like some lanky demon from the fiery pits of hell. Eric stares up at the thing, frozen in terrified disbelief and unable to utter a sound.
Screaming from further down the street draws the creature away and it goes barreling violently through the fleeing crowd, leaving Eric hyperventilating where he sits.
Eric does the only thing he can think of in his shock—he scrambles to his feet, turns away from the cacophony and vaults over the low wall he'd been cowering against. He sprints into the slightly clearer air of Central Park as fast as his father's shiny, ill fitting dress shoes can carry him.
But he's not the only one. Everyone in the overpopulated isle of Manhattan is suddenly running for their lives, scrambling over one another in a desperate attempt to escape whatever is attacking them in the streets. The long limbed creature follows the crowd into the park with incredible speed just as another of its kind leaps forward from the trees to land in a spray of blood and dismembered limbs.
Eric pivots away from the slaughter and is shoved aggressively aside as the frantic horde of New Yorkers rushes around him. He barely manages to catch himself on a sturdy row of park benches while he struggles to catch his breath. His chest is painfully tight and the panicked ringing in his ears is almost loud enough to drown out the sounds of carnage going on all around him.
But before he can even collect himself enough to move on his own he's being swept forward again by a surge of running people. The Central Park Zoo appears in front of him as the noisy crowd spills through the gates in an attempt to hide from their pursuers amongst the animal enclosures. Eric rounds the zoo's main brick building just as one of the predators crashes into the barking sea lions' pool.
The monster makes quick work of the noisy animals, thrashing violently in the shallow water that has turned deep red before it resumes its attack on the horrified crowd. The sound of desperate screaming reaches an even higher volume as individuals are picked off one by one by more creatures that approach from all directions.
They come from the street, through the trees, from the very sky itself. Running seems fruitless so Eric has no choice but to duck between the zoo's few buildings until he finds an alcove outside of a locked maintenance entrance. He cowers down in his hiding spot but still can't seem to take in any oxygen even once he's stopped and out of sight. His panic literally steals his breath away until his vision becomes crowded with blackness while the screaming continues all around him, screaming that is now interspersed by poor helpless zoo animals as they roar and shriek and are cruelly cut down in their cages.
Another deafening collision suddenly rocks the ground Eric is crouching on, followed by another and another as fireballs continue to streak through the sky overhead. A stampede of agile, merciless figures making otherworldly clicks and screeches tears through everything and everyone in their path as they charge down nearby Fifth Avenue.
Eric couldn't move to get away from the chaos even if he wanted to. All he can do is curl up as tight as he can in his lame hiding spot while the city is literally torn apart around him. He claps his numb, trembling hands over his ears and bites his lip to stifle his terrified whimpering. He squeezes his tearing eyes shut and wishes it would all just stop.
After a long, long while it finally does, but the unnatural silence is somehow even worse than the screaming.
-_-
"…Shelter in place," an announcement booms, startling Eric from his panicked daze. "Remain silent…attacking sound…"
He hears a distant rush of movement as the creatures are drawn to a helicopter that is playing the message overhead.
Eric has no idea how long he was cowering while the horrors passed but he can tell he's lost at least a few hours when he realizes that the sun overhead is significantly lower in the sky than he remembers it being.
It's almost unfathomable to think of how much death and destruction was caused in such a short period of time. Manhattan never stood a chance—the overcrowded, noisy city had been easy pickings for the swarm of otherworldly predators.
"…Shelter in place…"
The message from above repeats as it moves further uptown, taking all of the monsters with it. Eric decides to heed the disembodied voice's suggestion, knowing that he'll need something better than a doorway to take shelter in.
He eventually gathers enough courage to stand on his tingling legs and peer out from his hiding place. He swallows back bile when he sees the sheer amount of blood and viscera that now covers the zoo's courtyard. The stench alone is unbearable.
Eric stumbles away from the massacre's remains into an eerily deserted Central Park. He realizes that he finally has the peace and quiet he'd wanted, though it's anything but comforting in the moment. He takes care to stay on the soft grassy fields lest the tapping of his shoes on pavement attracts the terrifying creatures to him.
The very notion of it all is mind boggling—monsters that attack sound?! But where did they come from, why are they here now, what could they possibly want…
Eric exhausts himself while his thoughts run circles around unanswerable questions. He doesn't get very far before he collapses onto a bench with his throbbing head in his hands and his labored breaths hitching painfully in his chest. He has half a mind to settle in where he sits and re-acquaint himself with the drama going on in Middle Earth until the real world finds a way to right itself again.
But the shadows are growing longer around him as the sun dips towards the horizon. He knows he needs to leave the too open park and seek shelter before nightfall if he wants to live to see another day.
And he does—more than anything Eric doesn't want to die here, all alone and scared in a foreign city that has been so awful to him from the start.
If only he had somewhere to go. Certainly not back to his tiny apartment, even if he could find it again without the address mapped on his phone. He's so turned around by the park that he has no idea where he is, not to mention that the ash still raining lightly through the air makes it difficult to see. He doesn't think he'd manage to find his way regardless of the smoky sky—he'd barely succeeded in locating the law office on time that morning.
Christ, he thinks, that was only this morning?!
And he never did get his lunch his stomach suddenly reminds him when it lets out a growl that seems to echo through the still park. He hugs his torso tight and wills his body to shut up. His stomach might be begging for food but he doesn't think he'll have much of an appetite for anything, not after the horrors he's seen that day.
Eric eventually pushes himself to his feet and tiptoes along a paved trail that cuts through the park just as the clouds become streaked with the beautiful red and purple hues of sunset. He shuffles further along in the direction of what he hopes is some remains of civilization where he might find somewhere to hide, or maybe someone who can help him and give him direction in how to cope with the world suddenly coming to an end.
An elaborate archway appears ahead of him, long enough that the path becomes an eerie shadowed tunnel. He freezes, debating whether or not he wants to chance traversing through the dark, enclosed space when he spies the silhouette of a hunched figure already taking refuge on the opposite side.
Eric has never been so happy to see another living, breathing person in his life. Eric almost calls out to them on instinct but bites his tongue. He waves in an attempt to get their attention as he steps close enough to see that the figure is an older man. The stranger barely spares Eric a side eyed glance before going right back to staring down at what Eric can see is a saxophone in his lap.
At the man's feet is a row of open instrument cases lined with a handful of change and a few scattered bills. Even in the shadows of the setting sun Eric can see that the instrument in the man's hands is splattered with blood.
Eric quickly deduces that the man is a street performer who normally plays under the park's bridges and in tunnels for the acoustics, and he likely hadn't been playing alone at the start of his day.
"It's no use."
Eric startles violently at the unexpected sound of the old man's gruff voice, echoing loudly through the tunnel.
"No use in livin' at all," the man continues. "This is end times, kid. We went and fucked up the planet so now the universe is fuckin' us right back."
Eric just stares at him.
"Best we go quick while we can," the man mutters. "'Cause I for one ain't interested in seein' what fresh hell comes for us next."
Eric processes the statement as if it's on a delay, like he hears the actual words well after the man's mouth has moved. By the time Eric understands what the musician is getting at it he's already brought the saxophone to his lips.
"No wait," Eric whispers frantically. "Please don't—"
He's cut off by the blaring of the woodwind instrument. The man barely gets a melody out before a creature leaps from above into the mouth of the tunnel, silhouetted ominously in the light of dusk. Eric barely blinks and the man is cleaved in two mid song right in front of him.
Eric remains frozen in horror in the short tunnel that suddenly seems to be closing in on him. But by some miracle the monster doesn't notice him in the shadows of the overpass. Instead the thing leaps impossibly fast back up the way it came, clearly satisfied with its kill and the ensuing quiet before it's drawn again by the sound of a siren suddenly wailing in the distance.
Eric doesn't even look at what remains of the musician, just turns heel and runs back the way he came, heedless of the loud tapping his shoes make as he goes. His feet move of their own accord in the opposite direction of the creature, going back the way he'd come before turning down a another park path.
By the time he finally finds the edge of Central Park it's dark out and most of the street lights have been struck down and rendered useless. Enough buildings still have electricity for Eric to see by, and he startles when he realizes that he actually recognizes where he is.
It's the very same intersection where he'd been at the start of this mess, only a few short blocks away from the law office he never wanted to return to in the first place.
He can't help but choke out a laugh at the sheer irony of it. Then he clamps his jaw shut and freezes at the sound of crashing in a building not far away from where he stands. Apparently not all of the creatures were called downtown by the earlier siren song. He sees one leaping from above in his direction so Eric runs.
He races down the street and skids around cars as the creature crashes through them like they're nothing, spraying glass and setting off distracting car alarms as it goes. Eric is so focused on running for his life that he doesn't even realize when he rounds a corner that the sidewalk has unexpectedly opened up beneath him.
He misses the first step into the subway station entrance and goes tumbling downward, the wind knocked out of him abruptly when he hits the first landing with a dull thud. That sound is followed by louder, abrupt movement from above and a clicking that has Eric panicking all over again.
He bites his lip to stifle his pained whimpers. He doesn't even look up to the street he fell from, just rolls himself over as silently as he can and scooches carefully down the remaining set of stairs into the dark subway, moving as quickly and quietly as he possibly can. It's a miracle that nothing is broken after his fall, but he's certain he'll be bruised and sore once the adrenaline has worn off, provided he survives long enough to feel anything.
He stays close to the dirty tiled wall with wide eyes locked to the top of the stairs the entire time. There's only one short staircase separating him from the street above, which is not nearly enough cover from the creature hunting him.
The clicking and slow shuffling continues as a long, clawed hand eases down the first half a dozen stairs in one step. Eric blindly tiptoes along the wall at his back. He doesn't even breathe when the creature descends to the landing Eric had just fallen on.
The head seems to fracture into pieces attached only by thin tendons of muscle to what must be its brain. The monster is making that strange pulsing click sound, and after a moment Eric realizes that it's in tune to the slow trickling of water echoing from further down the subway tunnel. The thing is listening but it can't see Eric directly below it in the subway entrance. In fact it doesn't look like it has eyes to see with at all.
Eric assures himself that as long as he stays quiet the creature won't even know he's there.
But then the thing tilts its head down in Eric's direction and he panics, thinking, oh shit, it can read minds too?!
He lets out a gasp that's stifled when a hand suddenly grabs him from behind and smothers his mouth. The soft muffled sound that follows is just enough to make the creature bare its sharp rows of teeth that part with a wet hiss.
Eric whimpers in utter terror and the fingers dig further into his cheeks to shut him up. The monster's maw opens wide but whatever sound it might have made is suddenly drowned out by the perfect timing of jets screaming overhead as they streak across the dark sky.
The pieces of skull snap back into place and the creature abruptly leaps up out of the subway towards its new prey just as an explosion goes off in the distance.
Eric is forced to huff a shaky breath of relief through his nose when the hand over his mouth doesn't ease up.
At first Eric is grateful—the stranger must be just as afraid as he is of the creature returning and is wise to stifle even the smallest of sounds. But the hand refuses to let him go, not even when another distant explosion calls all of the monsters further away.
Instead Eric is dragged stumbling backwards into the eerie glow of the subway station's red emergency lights. Eric is whirled around and slammed hard against the cold tiled wall, the hand clamped over his mouth the entire time.
The man before him grins but Eric sees nothing kind in his dark, wild eyes while his free hand points an open box cutter in Eric's direction.
Eric's eyes widen and follow the blade as it slowly moves to point down at Eric's bag, then rises again to press lightly against Eric's throat. It's only then that Eric notices the many overstuffed purses the man already has draped over his shoulders, none of which remotely match his dark hoodie and ragged jeans.
"Your wallet," the man whispers, and Eric can barely hear the words when they're said right in front of him. "Now."
Eric finally realizes what is happening and feels a bubble of hysteria rising in his chest. He always knew there was a possibility of being mugged at some point while he was living in New York City, he just can't believe it's actually happening to him at the end of the world. What exactly the ruffian intends to do with Eric's limited funds now that all the shops above are rubble is beyond him.
The blade presses harder against his neck, forcing Eric out of his thoughts and back into reality. His mugger suddenly looks angry and impatient but Eric can't seem to coordinate his trembling hands enough to blindly open his messenger bag. Not while there's a knife at his throat and a hand still smothering his mouth to the point of suffocation.
Another, closer explosion rocks the city street above and the mugger decides to take advantage of the cover sound. He tightens his grip on Eric's face then slams his head back against the wall, hard enough that Eric sees stars. Eric is left in a daze when the box cutter slices easily through the strap of his bag and takes the entire thing off of him. Then his attacker is gone, leaving a shell shocked Eric to slump boneless to the dirty subway floor.
What few belongings Eric actually had in America are now gone, including the fantasy novel that he'd kept close to him for comfort for so many years. He laments the loss of his book more than anything else.
It's only when he pushes himself up to sit with a barely stifled sob that he realizes he's not alone in the subway. A handful of figures cower near the turnstiles, and Eric wouldn't be surprised if they too had been forced to pay for the underground shelter with their purses and wallets. They all know better than to speak, but none of them even look at him. In fact they seem to be pointedly ignoring him, like they hadn't just bore witness to his fall and senseless, brutal mugging.
All Eric wants is a sympathetic glance and a comforting hand, but it seems he can't even have that when he needs it most.
Eric is left scared, aching, and humiliated. He turns his back on the uncaring crowd and decides that he can't hold in his breakdown any longer. He stumbles dizzily in the direction of the softly dripping water which leads him down another set of stairs to the desolate subway tracks.
He makes a beeline for the darkest, furthest corner of the subway platform and leans heavily against the wall that's closest to the sound of trickling water. It's there that he curls himself into a little ball and cries as quietly as he can until he falls into a fitful sleep.
-_-
Eric has been ridiculed and ignored at his new place of work, knocked over by strangers in the street, senselessly mugged, and terrorized by monsters who literally fell from the sky, but it's his parents' easy dismissal that haunts his nightmares.
"It's time for you to become a proper adult with a respectable profession, Eric," his mother says in that no nonsense tone of hers, the same tone she had used when his parents told him of their plans for him without once considering what he might want to do. "Those childish fantasies and silly tricks of yours will get you nowhere in this life, you know that."
He's always felt small next to his successful, arrogant parents, and suddenly he feels like a young child once again being told he needs to grow up before his time. "B-but I don't—"
"Eric," his father sighs heavily. "Why are you always such a disappointment to us?"
"We remain under attack…"
Eric startles at the sound of the disembodied voice. He searches his dark and empty surroundings but only sees his larger than life parents looming over him. "Wait, did you hear that, what did they say?"
His parents look at each other and shake their heads. "You need to focus for once, Eric," his mother says. "This is why we had to send you away, so you could finally learn to mature on your own."
"I could have done that from Kent, or London," he insists. "I…I don't want to be here!"
"…seek shelter on water…"
A light slosh of liquid hits Eric's ankles and steadily rises.
"You can come home anytime you like, Eric," his father's voice says, "but you'll have to swim all the way here."
"Surely you know how, Eric," his mother adds. "We've certainly paid enough for lessons over the years."
The water rushes upwards and quickly passes Eric's midsection.
"…boat evacuations are beginning now at the South Street—"
"There are no ships waiting for you, Eric," his father tells him. "Nothing to save you from the rising tide."
"Mum, dad, please," he sputters just before the water rises over his mouth. "Please, I-I'm scared!"
His parents look down on him while he drowns with indifference on their faces, faces that become indistinct as their bodies morph into dark, long limbed creatures hell bent on destroying him.
"…travel south with extreme caution…"
The faceless, weirdly fractured heads with rows of teeth bear down on him while Eric wades frantically in the water. But he can't manage to stay afloat when the liquid covers his head and he is submerged in heavy, suffocating blackness.
He wakes with a gasp for the air he was deprived of in his nightmare, then chokes when foul tasting liquid fills his mouth and slides down his throat. He coughs and sputters and flails then finally manages to push himself up.
Eric rises shakily to his feet, wincing as all the aches and pains from his fall and mugging make themselves known. He puts a hand to his head to steady the dizzying disorientation of being upright. His other hand juts out to catch himself on the wall but slips on the damp tile. He stumbles a step, splashing as he goes.
He'd been lying in a shallow pool of dirty, cold water that has spilled onto the platform from the now completely submerged subway track. He can still hear the slow trickle of water further on in the tunnel but can't tell where it's coming from in the darkness. Only a handful of flickering emergency lights are still working in the main station over his head, leaving the lower level tunnel looking more ominous than ever.
He hears a thundering sound coming from even higher up in the street above the station. He doesn't know what's happening but there's no mistaking the muffled, desperate screaming that seems too much like a horrifying repeat of when this all began. Eric is frozen in terror where he stands staring at the stairway that will lead him above ground and back into the fray. He's not so sure that he wants to move at all until an especially loud crash sounds first from the street above him, then from the tunnel behind him. The crash is followed by the sudden roar of rushing water headed in Eric's direction.
In the moment Eric can't think of where all the water could have come from so fast. It could've been caused by suddenly ruptured pipes, or the river finally breaking free of its barriers, or maybe the entire island has sunk under the weight of the violent attack—any explanation is more than plausible.
All Eric knows is that he doesn't want to stay trapped in the subway to drown like his subconscious had feared when a wall of water suddenly comes hurtling down through the tunnel towards him.
He lurches frantically to the stairs in his already water logged suit. He's only taken a handful of steps when the water surges up to his waist with enough force that he's nearly knocked off of his feet. He hangs on to the handrail for dear life as he pulls himself desperately upwards but the water moves just as quickly. By the time he's on the subway's main floor the water has caught up to his ankles again. But at least here he can see sunlight streaming from above just on the other end of the long station.
The stairway he'd fallen into and been mugged at the bottom of now looks like a safe haven. The sidewalk is only another level above him though he barely manages to pass through the broken turnstiles before another gush of water bubbles up from the tunnel behind him. He can't stay on his feet when a polluted wave hurls water heavy with debris in his direction.
He kicks himself upright when the water suddenly becomes too deep for him to stand in. He has only a second to gasp and catch his breath near the ceiling when the water swiftly rises above his head and plunges him into darkness. He flails and swims even when he can no longer see where he's going.
He comes to the startling realization that he's going to die. He's going to drown in the dirty flooded subway station of a city he hadn't even wanted to go to in the first place. He's going to die terrified and alone all because some monsters from who knows where in space decided that Earth was too noisy for them. Eric would almost think it was funny if he wasn't so frightened.
A sudden flash of light cuts through the darkness and Eric instinctively moves towards it. He kicks blindly just as his burning lungs give up and his mouth opens for air, sending bubbles of the breath he'd been holding into the depths.
Then he miraculously breaches the surface with a gasp. He grapples for the railing next to him with shaking hands and hauls himself out of what was almost his watery grave, still struggling to catch his breath while he trembles and tries desperately to not make a sound.
The world around him is unnervingly quiet, but he gets the distinct feeling he's being watched. He startles and is surprised when all he sees is furry little black and white head peering at him through the subway entrance's iron railing. The feline's green eyes are bright and mesmerizing enough that Eric can't look away even while he shivers with only his head above the flooded subway station.
The cat hops closer to him, never breaking eye contact, then tilts its gaze to the side before looking intensely at Eric again. The message is clear—follow me, I can help you.
"O-okay," he whispers under his heaving breaths to the cat, who doesn't reply.
He crawls onto the sidewalk on his hands and knees then vomits up all the foul water his otherwise empty stomach had ingested. His retches sound deafening in his own ears and he can only hope that the monsters are preoccupied with noise elsewhere, otherwise he'll have survived drowning only to be cut down where he stands.
Still the cat stares, waiting patiently while Eric finds his feet and struggles to stand on wobbly legs. When he does the cat cocks its head at him and turns to trot down the street. It only goes a few yards before stopping to glance back at Eric again. He coughs into his sodden sleeve to cover the sound as he shuffles numbly ahead. The cat doesn't move again until he's caught up, at which point the furry little black and white head butts his shin then continues onward with a soft whip of its tail.
Eric follows willingly after the cat, grateful to have any sort of direction. Though he's sure if wasn't still in a daze from his near death experience he might've thought twice about trailing after some random cat he met in the street.
Luckily the feline doesn't go very far. It stops partway down the block then glances back at Eric before darting into an alleyway.
When Eric reaches the mouth of the alley he is surprised to see a woman garbed in a bright yellow sweater sitting there, looking just as lost and terrified and defeated as he feels. Her eyes are huge in her gaunt face when she stares up at him in surprise. Then she gestures him along ahead, to where he has no idea.
He looks in the direction she's pointing and sees nothing but more destruction. He swallows hard and knows that whatever she's pointing to is not where he wants to be.
He turns back to her just as she's struggling to get to her feet. He automatically moves to help her but she shrugs out of reach and rights herself on her own. She gestures again the same direction she had before, looking at him as if she's afraid for him.
Eric can't heed her request to leave. He doesn't want to be alone, doesn't think she should be alone either, so he follows blindly after her as she limps along, hoping she knows where they can go to be safe. As much as he'd hate to admit it Eric is used to being guided and told what to do—it's almost comforting to fall into old habits once again as she leads him away from wherever she'd been trying to direct him.
She looks over her shoulder at him just as it starts to rain. She doesn't look annoyed, more confused than anything that he's still trailing after her. The downpour continues and he keeps following, until she eventually gestures for him to meet with her under the safety of a construction platform. Eric has to take a moment to remember how to use his voice before he can answer her questions.
She tells him to go to the ships, to save himself and stop following her, but he honestly can't. He's terrified to be left on his own again, and quite frankly she's the only person who's shown him even a modicum of kindness since he arrived in the city. Her and her cat, that is.
She studies him for a long moment and seems to take pity on him when she finally gives him permission to follow her.
"Okay?"
"Okay."
"…Okay. C'mon."
-_-
They finish screaming their frustrations under the rumbling thunder and flashing lightning until the worst of the storm passes. Eric sniffles and swipes the tears from his eyes, tears that he's embarrassed to be shedding in front of a woman who he knows now is so much worse off than he is.
It seems especially cruel that she should be dying at the literal end of the world, where any last hope she might have had for her last days has been viciously taken from her.
Eric's thoughts are interrupted when his furry little savior moves from its owner's lap to his with a soft purr.
"Frodo likes you," the dying woman whispers under the cover of the rain. "And he doesn't like anybody."
Eric can't help but smile while he pets the soft cat where it curls up contentedly against him. "Frodo and…" he remembers the book of poems, of the poet's beaming portrait on the back cover. Her emaciated form now is almost unrecognizable from that lively photo. "Samira."
"Sam," she softly corrects him. "Just Sam."
"Sam," he repeats in a whisper. "Frodo and Sam."
Eric beams when his weary brain puts their names together, and he realizes that it's the first real smile he's shared with anyone in a long while. She grins tentatively back and it lights up her weary face.
Suddenly he wants nothing more than to loudly and dramatically declare that he will join Sam's fellowship on her noble quest. He will eagerly follow the pair of pseudo hobbits and aid them as best he can on their venture through this modern Mordor in search of the hallowed Patsy's Pizza.
But the cover of heavy rain is petering out and he's too afraid to speak aloud. They sit in silence for a moment before Sam gingerly rises to her feet. He immediately moves to help her again but she holds up a hand and shoots him a look that has him slumping back. She gestures towards the hall and what he assumes is her own bedroom before miming that he can sleep on her sofa.
He smiles appreciatively. "Okay," he mouths.
She smirks weakly with a roll of eyes at his repeated response then walks away in slow, careful motions. Eric waits until she's out of sight before removing his soaked jacket with a wince as the day's adrenaline wears off and all of his bruises make themselves known. He does his best to find a comfortable position on her couch and only hopes that Sam manages to sleep well while she's hurting even worse than he is.
Frodo leaps onto Eric's chest as soon as he's settled and curls up under his neck with a content little rumble. Eric runs his fingers through the cat's soft white fur while he is lulled to sleep, a sleep that is blissfully nightmare free.
Eric is still terrified of what is to come but he's so grateful to have finally made a connection with someone in the city. He only thinks it's a shame they couldn't have found each other during better circumstances, before the world came to its literal end.
Epilogue
Later, much later, after Eric and Frodo have adapted to their life on an island in the Hudson Bay and Eric has finally found his place in the world, that peace is shattered once again.
When the creature attacks Eric does his best to help his fellow villagers and neighbors hide before rushing to offer whatever assistance he can. He's regretfully too late to save Henri, but he arrives just in time to witness the newcomer, a young girl, take on the terrifying monster all on her own.
He watches in awe while she strikes the thing down and is reminded in that moment of Sam's bravery at her own end, how she showed no fear when she helped him escape knowing that her own death was imminent.
Eric is unable to easily communicate with the deaf girl but the man she's with fills Eric in on their adventure while he hastily patches the stranger's injuries. Together the three make sure the broadcast is running as it should as a weapon to finally combat the invaders.
And suddenly Eric realizes that he's there in that radio station for a reason. Sam had helped him until the very end, and he knows he can pay her compassion forward now.
"I'll help you get back to your family," he tells the girl, Regan, slowly and clearly enough that his lips are readable for her. "It's going to be okay."
She smiles tentatively in return and breathes an uneven, "o-kay."
He grins right back. "Okay."
FIN.