Just Getting By: With Chainsaws

The second I clicked "Y" everything electronic in my room went dark. I stood up from my desk to see what was going on with the breaker.

"Fuck is the breaker box bad again? I just fucking replaced it last month! What a shitty apartment!"

I loudly stomped off to go grab a box of spare fuses to put into the breaker box. I was walking down the hallway when all of a sudden the door in front of me creaked open.

"Heh!"

I made a little squeal. I coughed, blushed, and loudly proclaimed. "The fuck is this run down place trying to do to me give me a heart attack."

I skirted by the door and continued on my adventure to replace the fuse. As I was moving down the hallway I could hear a quiet squeaking noise echoing from behind the bathroom door that just opened. I stopped walking, and tilted my head behind me to find the source of the noise. I had a slight fluttering in my chest as I felt the flight or fight mechanism within my body start chugging away at full cylinders.

"If those fucking roaches are trying to turn on my faucet again I swear I'll get this place condemned!"

I stomped off to go shew away the bugs that were most likely trying to waste my hot water again. I loudly barged into the bathroom.

Nothing.

The bathroom was just as I had last left it. The bath mat roughly strewn about the bathroom floor. Always failing to catch the falling water off my body. The clothes that I wore to work last night littering the floor, and my issued box knife haphazardly placed on the lid of the toilet.

"Hmph little fuckers wanna play hide and seek eh? I swear tomorrow when I go to work I'm going to buy bug traps and get you all fucking killed."

I grumbled some more to myself. Contemplated cleaning the floor but thought it better to get my bedroom electricity fixed first. I turned around and continued back on my daunting journey to replace my fuse. I was making my way down the hallway rummaging around my pockets to pull out my phone. For whatever reason whenever I get a little spooked at some random shit holding my phone would make me feel slightly better.

I was almost at the end of the hallway when something in the corner of the living room that lay in front of me caught my eye. It was a small hunched looking figure that was squatting in the dark.

"The fuck...?"

I could feel my breath coming in short gasps. I mean who the fuck would just be chilling in my living room staring at a corner. I live alone and in a shitty run down apartment. What if they're on drugs. I stopped haphazardly fumbling for my phone and deliberately and slowly pulled it out. I hit the power button so that I could call the police, and sheer terror struck me for the first time in my twenty two years of living. The fucker was dead. Oh my fucking god how dense could I have been to not have plugged it in? What if the dude chilling in the corner is a goddamn serial killer!? I'm gonna have to hide and plug my phone back in. If I just wait till I can call the police they'll remove him from my apartment and I'd have a valid excuse to call off from my work. I slinked backwards trying to quietly make it back to my room so I could plug my phone in. I didn't want to disturb the nut job hiding in my apartment. My eyes never left the hunched figure.

Who the fuck breaks into a house and just sits there? I still didn't trust whatever was in that corner and when I was about ten feet away from the bathroom it moved. Oh shit. It's fucking moving. I stopped in my tracks. My feet were frozen in place. My breath was hissing through my clenched teeth. My mind was a blank slate. As it stood up it kept twitching and in a shuffled step started coming closer to me. I understand from where you're reading you probably think I was being a fucking idiot for not sprinting away, and using everything to obtain my safety. All I have to say is... I wanna see you get up and deal with what I was dealing with. I was just some stupid fucking kid who wasn't prepared to deal with some stranger camping out in his apartment.

I bit the inside of my cheek and felt a surging pain flash before my eyes. My ass was not about to be on some headline story, "some stupid fucking kid who died at hands of serial killer". I tripped over my feet and crawled the last nine to ten feet into my bathroom slamming the door with my foot. I could feel tears streaming down my face as the reality of what was happening set in.

"We're not gonna fucking die today ok? Let's stand back up Tony. Let's try to keep that fucker out there."

I kept just whispering random things to myself. I already knew I probably sounded like a mad man, but what else could I do. There was something scary, and the only thing I could think of doing was fill the void of silence with my own stupid voice. My eyes glued onto my box knife and I quickly clutched it hard enough in my hands to make my knuckles go white. I fumbled with the lever on the top of it, and finally pushed it hard enough to make the entire blade stick out. What the fuck am I gonna do? Stab the fucker? I've never stabbed anyone before. Can I go to jail if it was self defense? If I do go to jail wouldn't I just become somebody's bitch? Well what's worse getting fucked in the ass or dying?

The only things I could hear over the pounding of my heart and breathing was the shuffled steps down the hall. It sounded like it was a little over half way down the hall. I sat in silence. It crept closer. My breathing was full near panic mode. Then finally the shuffling stopped outside of my door. My breathing stopped. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Oh god I'm gonna fucking die!

BANG!

The door rattled on it's hinges and I started whimpering.

BANG!

There was splinter's in the door now.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

There was a hole in the door now. My back was firmly pressed against the wall of the bathroom. I was in full hysteria constantly telling myself I didn't want to die. I could make out a faint face behind the door, but there wasn't any details.

BANG! BANG! CRACK!

Fuck the door was falling apart. The only plan in my mind. Stab the fucker and sprint out of the apartment.

CRACK! CRACK!

The hole was being constantly beat against.

BOOM!

The door broke from it's hinges and I surged forward with my eyes shut. Box knife raised above my heads. I felt my hands strike something hard, then a sick squishy feeling gushed out over my hands.

BANG!

I was sent hurtling backwards. An immense pain was looming in my chest. I gasped for breath.

A loud booming voice broke through my intense pain.

"Congratulations! You, (Tony Hargrave) have completed the tutorial!" A sweet sensation permeated throughout my body. The sensation lingered in my chest and the pain started being swept away as if it was never there. I opened my eyes to see if the bastard was dead or had run off. Terror once again swept through my body. A ragged looking body lay there with a protruding bit of metal sticking out of their chest. It's skin seemed to be barely hanging on, an eye was dangling from it's socket, and worst of all was the intense stench it put off.

The loud looming voice came back.

"You have leveled up. Choose from the following options listed out on the display in front of you."

The fuck? Am I dreaming or something?

Sure enough there was a display status presenting me with three options.

1. Weapon

2. Armor

3. Skill

I mean in most videogames don't you need a better weapon in order to do more damage?

I "clicked" on option 1.

"Giving reward now."

The dead body on the floor seemed to be almost dematerializing. It's what you'd expect to see when you slay an enemy in some kind of MMO. What sort of fucked dream was I having? Once all the particles of the enemy was gone a clean, slick looking chainsaw was sitting in his place.

"A fucking chainsaw? What is this some kind of zombie flick?"