No, this isn’t about the Doctor Who episode — though I suggest that anyone interested in the show check it out. This is much more…well, you’ll see. I hope you enjoy this piece!
Charles sat in his history class, bored to death. Well, not literally bored to death, not yet. A student a couple rows in front of him had already died from boredom, and was rotting away in the seat. And yet the teacher droned on and on. Even as the dead student raised his head and began moaning, reaching for the blonde girl in front of him. Charles figured that the Apocalypse could happen, and this teacher would still keep droning on and on.
In fact, that wasn’t far from the truth. The dead student had soon converted the blonde girl, and they shuffled around the classroom, groaning “Brains! Brains!” to the terror of the students, some of whom screamed and others of whom opened fire right away.
But all this was in Charles’s peripheral. He was largely focused on the teacher, who kept droning on and on, like some bumblebee from Hell. And as Charles focused on the teacher, he realized that her beehive hairdo was really the antennae to an enormous insect, and that the droning was the buzzing of her wings masking a demonic cackle.
“You’re mine, Charles!” boomed a voice straight from the ninth circle.
The classroom door burst open and a heavily armed commando stepped into the room, unloading a machine gun into the bee’s face.
“Come on, Charles! Quick!” the soldier shouted.
Charles found he could move, and leapt to his feet, hurrying out with the commando, away from the monster, whose roars ceased as the door closed.
“So who are you? Some kind of commando?” asked Charles as the soldier led him away from the door.
“Well, I am going commando,” winked the soldier. “But I am part of the resistance.”
“Resistance against what?”
“That creature we saw in there is only a minor soldier in the war we’re fighting. We were hoping that we could find you before they did, and we were lucky to find you before they finished you off.”
Charles looked about him, realizing now that they were in a long tunnel, lit only by a string of Christmas lights hung from the ceiling. Wondering, he pointed this out to his escort, who only laughed.
“Silly me,” he said. “We forgot to take down the Christmas lights!”
At once the lights went out.
“What happened?” Charles asked, hearing some kind of strange scuffling around him.
“Oh, sorry! It’s just if you say ‘Christmas lights’, they turn off.”
The lights flickered back on, revealing just what the scuffling had been all about. Spiders of varying sizes had come up and covered the tunnel wall. With a shock, Charles realized that the soldier beside him was covered in webbing.
“Run!” he ordered.
Charles ran. And he ran, faster than the wind, so fast that he kicked up the wind behind him and sent it spiraling into the spiders, knocking them all away from their pursuit. He turned a corner, and then stopped.
He had come to the base of some gigantic tank, some enormous barrel. A bright white light shown from the very top.
“Hello?” he shouted, the sound echoing all the way up the top and fading away. There was no answer.
He walked around the edge of the wall, looking up and down to find absolutely no way up or out. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure the way he had come in here was still in existence. However, there was an odd panel, and it fell into the wall when he pushed it. There was a click. And then shuffling.
He turned around, noticing at once two things: first, that his entire history class had become zombies; second, that there was a low level of water on the floor. The zombies moaned as they splashed toward him, and he recoiled, realizing that he was unarmed.
However, he had to fight; there was no where to run, and he wasn’t going to take this sitting down. So he sloshed toward them, wondering in the back of his mind where the water had come from. He approached the first zombie, swinging at it hard, so that its head bent back with the force. But the others came on.
Charles punched them as well, packing so much power into each punch that, had this been a party and not a fight for life, he could have danced all night. He couldn’t use his legs to fight; the water was so high that all he could do was stand. In a moment though, the only way to remain on the ground was to be on his tiptoes. The zombies were slowly disappearing beneath the waters.
He tread the water, rising with it, until his feet tangled over the heads of the soaked zombies. And then he rose some more. The white light came closer and closer, till it was all he could do not to look at it, or avert his eyes from the brightness.
Then, with the sound of a cannon, he rocketed up, the water somehow propelling him away. He soared through the sky, out into the starry void, flying through space. He passed the moon, and continued in his soaring. And soon he saw his destination: the red planet, Mars, slowly growing bigger and bigger.
However, just as it grew so large that it covered his entire view, it spun. And turning toward him came the face of Hell itself. Two bright, malevolent, red eyes frowned at him, but the mouth was open in a grin, a laugh, a sound that seemed like the joy of evil torment combined with the cries of the tormented. Charles screamed in horror as he fell, fell down toward the gaping mouth, which had opened just to swallow him.
And suddenly, he awoke. Charles clutched his chest, containing his fast paced heart, realizing it had all been a dream. He sighed, laying his head back on the pillow. He really needed to stop eating Lucky Charms before bed.