1/0: Entries from the End Times

<Log date = 9-4-Movement>

<message id =1>

<participant id = 0></participant>

If you’re seeing this, the sun’s gone. :((

Specifically, the fifth.

That’s right, according to my dad, there were four before this one. 4-Tiger, 4-Wind, 4-Rain, and 4-Water. Tezcatlipoca looked after 4-Tiger, Quetzalcoatl looked after 4-Wind, Tlaloc looked after 4-Rain, and Chalchiutlicue looked after 4-Water.

Quetzalcoatl took the throne from Tezcatlipoca. That pissed off Tezcatlipoca, so he sent jaguars to eat all the acorn-eating giants. O_0 Only jaguars were left. I have no idea why they’d name it Tiger-4 if there were only jaguars left.

Then, Tezcatlipoca turned into a tiger.

Right, that’s why it’s named 4-Tiger!

Yeah, Tezcatlipoca turned into a tiger and threw Quetzalcoatl off the throne. That pissed off Quetzalcoatl, so he unleashed a whole lotta hurricanes. Only monkeys were left.

The conquistadors may have called my ancestors barbarians, and maybe they were, but they also knew where we came from long before they did. >:)

While Tezcatlipoca and Quetzalcoatl were beating the shit out of each other, Tlaloc took over. Then, Tezcatlipoca kidnapped Tlaloc’s wife. That pissed off Tlaloc, so he sent a storm of ashes upon us. He should’ve sent it to Tezcatlipoca if you ask me. Only turkeys, butterflies, and dogs were left.

Tlaloc’s second wife Chalchatlicue took over, but of course, Tezcatlipoca had to fuck it up again. He basically accused her of only being nice to humans because she liked their sacrifices. She cried so much that her tears swamped the world, and only fish were left.

At least, that’s how my father told it. I don’t believe in God. I don’t believe in any gods. And if there were gods, they left us long ago, just like this sun, 4-Movement, left us with a total shitshow.

Then again, there’s only an ‘us’ if you see this.

<message id = 2>

<participant id = 0></participant>

Can you see this?

If you can see this, send me a sign.

<message id = 3>

<participant id = 0></participant>

Please tell me you can see this.

<message id = 4>

<participant id = 1></participant>

Yes, I can see that the sun’s gone.

I don’t like this Tezcatlipoca person, making so much of a mess.

<message id = 5>

<participant id = 0></participant>

HOLY SHIT :D

I’M NOT ALONE!!

WE’RE NOT ALONE!!

I GOT YOUR SIGNAL I’M HEADED RIGHT THERE

DON’T MOVE A MUSCLE DON’T MOVE A MUSCLE

The invisible eagle had its talons in my temples, and it tore at the nape of my neck and its wings were bludgeoning my head, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t tell if my nose ran because of the blow or because of the fact that I finally had a fucking response from someone. Anyone.

I kicked my threadbare blanket off my legs, literally rolled out of bed, dropped my pager, and picked up my pager. I dropped the pager again. I picked it up again. I kissed it. I kissed it again. Two years of total radio silence and someone picked up their pager, too. I got a signal. Two years of total radio silence and I got a signal. I got a signal. I got a signal.

I fumbled for my boxers, fastened the bulletproof vest I’d permanently borrowed from a cop currently resting in literal pieces, jumped into my jeans, threw on my tattered t-shirt, slung my leather jacket over my shoulder, stomped into my steel-toed boots, tugged on my fingerless gloves, slipped on my brass knuckles, and loaded a new clip into the magazine of my MP5 submachine gun.

I checked the location of the transmission. Within walking distance. To think that they were within walking distance this entire time. I chuckled incredulously as I stumbled through my bunker and reached for the reinforced steel doors.

The starlight obliterated my eyeballs. I grasped for my sunglasses. The light obliterated my eyeballs a little less. I glanced at the fiery sliver between the tarnished gates, the only barrier between me and the incomprehensible mess of a world that awaited me on the other side. But it would be worth it. For <participant id=1>, whoever they were. I drew in a deep breath, batted at the screeching eagle, and strode straight into what I thought would be a fresh hell.

Instead, I found fresh, bright green grass under my feet. A cool, crystalline, substance soaked through the holes in my boots and between my toes, soothing the blisters there. Lilies, lotuses, and orchids dotted the rich, dark banks around the golden lake.

A gargantuan iguana emerged from it. The liquid sparkled as it streamed off its conical scales, as black as the porous rocks on which it perched. Salt encrusted its snout. Its fat, pink tongue darted out to catch the slimy algae hanging from its mouth. It blinked at me with its beady eyes. Then, it descended into the muck, its spines the only sign of it, welcoming me to use it as a bridge. It didn’t have to invite me twice. I shuffled across its dorsal stripe, gripping its spines for support.

The invisible eagle tugged harder at my temples. I swatted at it. The iguana shifted under me. My heart danced clumsily. I hunkered down to my knees and crawled across the rest of it.

Then, an obsidian owl swooped down from the cotton candy clouds and snatched me into the starry sky.

Now, the gargantuan iguana looked like a regular iguana.

And it looked like a hairless dog seemed to be bounding after me.

The invisible eagle had disappeared, but every time it barked, the macuahuitls in my head beat my brain harder.

And then, a thatched roof fashioned from slate tiles broke through the haze. A cottage built of rubble stone. A telephone wire stretched between its chimneys. No, not any cottage. <participant id = 1>’s cottage.

The iguana vanished into the molten lake. The dog barked louder. The owl hooted at me in a rhythm infuriatingly reminiscent of laughter.

I slammed my hip into the owl’s belly, clawed into its fluffy collar, and tried to throw it over me. Its hold only hardened. I grit my teeth, anchored my nails into the flesh next to its tertiary feathers, twisted my torso and pulled it toward me. It wrenched its wing away. This time, my right fingers gripped the owl’s neck and my left grasped the bend of its wing. I drew it forward. The back of my right leg swept behind me, the momentum yanking its talons off my jacket. I seized my MP5 submachine gun, pointed it at the owl’s round glare, and braced for the recoil.

“Suck my MP5 dick!”

I fired with the last of my will.

Petalite. Indicolite. Petalite. Indicolite. Petalite. The cotton candy clouds disappeared into the distance. My heart pushed against my Adam’s apple. At first, it beat in time with my avian assailant’s wings, but then all semblance of rhythm vanished. The mottled patterns on its broad, heart-shaped visage resembled a human skull. Its head rotated three-hundred and sixty degrees, which would’ve been normal for an owl, but instead of spinning horizontally, it spun vertically. It wore a necklace of eyeballs.

My father told me they were servants of Mictlantecuhtli, the god of the dead. But what if all gods were dead? What if these gods never lived at all?

I crashed into the cottage.

My feet hit the floor, then my knees. Miraculously, my ankles remained unharmed. I tucked my arm under my armpit. I rolled over it and through my spine. Diagonally. Not vertically. I had to learn that the hard way.

Good Zero!

I puked all over the carpet.

Bad Zero!

Last night’s memories shot through my system like a hit, only instead of giving me a high, it made me sick to my stinging stomach. Sweat streamed down my skin. I remembered myself crouching before my overturned couch cushion. Stabbing my kitchen scissors into a plastic bag packed with ivory, previously hidden in the heel of my boot. How my heart inflated and clapped approvingly inside my chest before I even started to snort it. The invisible eagle lying in wait.

Of course I had to have too much crack. Of course I had to die from an overdose right when I tracked down a better reason to live. Of course I had to die when I couldn’t die now when I had come so close. How low could I go? How much lower could I go? Much lower. So much lower.

Blood and bile dripped from my lips. The eagle returned to torment me in full force. The macuahuitls swung again and again and again and again. My tendons twitched. My limbs, which now seemed ten times larger, flapped limply on the floor. Where the hell was my submachine gun? Colored lights shot through my cracked sunglasses.

And in the midst of it all, a perfectly set table. And behind the table, sat my utterly disgusted guardian angel. Her hands were in prayer position over her plate, her halo of half-up half-down ink-black hair, draped in a button-up, short-sleeved, vintage blue dress, her narrow, dark brown, stunned stare that seemed amber in the ephemeral, multicolored flames engulfing my body.

<message id = 3>

<participant id = 0></participant>

Please tell me you can see this.

<message id = 4>

<participant id = 1></participant>

Yes, I can see that the sun’s gone.

I don’t like this Tezcatlipoca person, making so much of a mess.

“Sorry,” I half-choked and half-chuckled incredulously, “for making a mess.”

The lights went out.