Conspiracy Theory

Mario's Pizzeria might have been reduced to a crater of twisted metal and charred dough, but Little Tony's was still standing on the corner of Maple and Huntington, its faded red awning and blinking "OPEN" sign a beacon of normalcy in an increasingly abnormal town. The bell jingled as Axel pushed through the door, immediately hit by the warm, yeasty scent that once would have made his mouth water. Now, it just smelled... processed. Wrong. Like someone had described pizza to an alien who'd never tasted food.

The place was nearly empty - just two tables occupied in what should have been the Sunday lunch rush. At the counter, a lanky teenager with a patchy attempt at a goatee looked up from his comic book, seeming almost surprised to see a customer.

"Hey," he said, straightening up. "You picking up or ordering?"

"Ordering," Axel replied, scanning the menu board out of habit rather than interest. "Large pepperoni, medium veggie, and..." he thought of the twins' negotiation skills, "an order of those brownie bites things you guys do."

"Cool," the clerk nodded, punching buttons on the ancient register. "That'll be twenty-two fifty. About thirty minutes."

Axel handed over the crumpled bills from his pocket and took a seat at a small table near the window. From here, he could watch the street - still unnaturally quiet for a Sunday noon. No kids on bikes, no dog-walkers, barely any cars. Just the occasional patrol car cruising slowly, officers scanning sidewalks for... what? Bears? Zombies? Him?

If only they knew.

Behind the counter, the teenage clerk had retreated to the kitchen, where hushed voices now carried across the empty restaurant. Axel's enhanced hearing picked up the conversation with perfect clarity. Sometimes, too perfect.

"...told you I'm not going back out there, Tony," said a voice that must have belonged to the cook. "I don't care if we get orders. Something's wrong out there."

"You're being paranoid, Nick," the older voice - presumably Little Tony himself - replied with exasperation. "It's just some rabid animals. The news is blowing it way out of proportion."

"Rabid animals?" Nick's voice rose slightly. "That doesn't explain what happened to Mario's! A gas explosion doesn't just—"

"Keep your voice down!" Tony hissed. "You want to start a panic? Mario's building was old. The gas lines were probably corroded. These things happen."

"These things happen?" Nick's voice dripped with skepticism. "The whole place is flattened, man. Like, not just burned - flattened. And what about the flies?"

"What flies?" Tony sounded increasingly irritated.

"Those huge-ass flies that have been showing up everywhere! Ricky from the bowling alley got bit by one at dawn. Said it was big as a wasp and black as oil. His arm swelled up like a balloon."

"So what? Maybe it was a wasp!"

"Tony, I've lived here thirty years. I know what a wasp looks like," Nick's voice dropped into a frustrated whisper. "This was something else. And it ain't just Ricky. Maria at the drugstore said they're sold out of calamine lotion. In March!"

Axel tilted his head, listening more intently as the kitchen conversation continued.

"Alright, alright," Tony conceded with a heavy sigh. "So we've got weird bugs. Still doesn't mean it's connected to Mario's or these supposed 'bear attacks.' Christ, Nick, you sound like my mother with her conspiracy theories about the water supply."

"Your mother was right about the chemical plant dumping, wasn't she?"

A long pause followed, then the sound of dough being slapped onto a counter.

"Just make the pizzas, Nick. Kid's waiting."

The sound of dough hitting the counter resumed, accompanied by the rhythmic chopping of vegetables. Axel shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with his enhanced eavesdropping abilities. These were just normal people, trying to make sense of increasingly abnormal circumstances. He knew the truth, or at least more of it than they did, but that knowledge was a burden he couldn't share.

Axel drummed his fingers on the scuffed tabletop, trying to ignore the overhead fluorescent lights that hummed at a frequency probably imperceptible to normal human hearing. Unfortunately for him, everything was perceptible now - from the mildew growing behind the refrigerator in the kitchen to the fact that Nick the cook had eaten garlic bread for breakfast. The sensory overload was exhausting.

The bell above the door jingled as an elderly woman shuffled in, clutching her purse like it contained state secrets. She approached the counter where the teenage clerk had reappeared, comic book now hastily stashed beneath the register.

"Hello, Jeffrey," she greeted him, her voice wavering slightly. "Is Tony in today?"

"Uh, yeah, he's in the back, Mrs. Petrowski." The clerk - Jeffrey, apparently - shifted uncomfortably. "Did you want to place an order?"

"Oh, no, dear," Mrs. Petrowski waved a gnarled hand dismissively. "I need to warn Tony about what's really happening. The bears are just a cover story."

Jeffrey's shoulders slumped visibly. Axel could practically feel the young clerk's resignation from across the room.

"Mrs. Petrowski, maybe you should—"

"It's the government," she continued, voice dropping to a stage whisper that was easily audible throughout the small restaurant. "They're testing something at that abandoned mall. That's why they don't want anyone going near it."

Axel froze, his attention suddenly razor-sharp. The abandoned mall – where he'd first experimented his portal ability. Where the remain of the monster from the other side had been left behind.

"Mrs. P, we've talked about this," Jeffrey said gently. "Remember what Dr. Levine said about–"

"Dr. Levine is in on it!" she insisted, thumping her purse on the counter for emphasis. "My neighbor's nephew works security at the clinic. He saw men in hazmat suits going in the back entrance Friday night. After the football field incident!"

Jeffrey's eyes flicked nervously to Axel, then back to Mrs. Petrowski. "Why don't I get Tony for you?" he offered, clearly hoping to pass this conversation to someone else.

As Jeffrey disappeared into the kitchen, Mrs. Petrowski finally seemed to notice Axel sitting by the window. She studied him with surprising intensity, her rheumy eyes narrowing behind thick bifocals.

"You're the Wilson boy, aren't you?" she called across the restaurant. "Teresa's son?"

Axel hesitated. When did he became his sister's son? "Teresa is my sister..."

She shuffled over to his table uninvited, the scent of mothballs and lilac perfume preceding her. "Your mother works at the clinic. Has she mentioned anything unusual? Any special patients?"

"Uh, no. Mum is pretty busy with regular patients," Axel said, avoiding eye contact with Mrs. Petrowski. "She doesn't really talk about work much when she gets home."

The elderly woman leaned closer, her arthritis-gnarled fingers gripping the edge of his table with surprising strength. "They never do, dear. That's how you know they're hiding something."

Her breath smelled of denture adhesive and peppermint tea as she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've been keeping a journal, you know. Documenting all the strange happenings. The birds flying in unusual patterns. The way the streetlights on Monroe Avenue flicker every night at precisely 10:17. And now these so-called 'bear attacks'..."

She made quotation marks in the air with trembling fingers, nearly poking Axel in the eye in the process.

"Mrs. Petrowski!" Little Tony emerged from the kitchen, wiping flour-covered hands on his apron. He was a stocky man in his fifties with a receding hairline and perpetually flushed cheeks. "What did we talk about last week?"

The old woman straightened up, clutching her purse defensively. "I'm just having a conversation with Teresa's boy."

"You're scaring my customers with your theories again," Tony sighed, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Come on, I'll fix you a nice cup of tea in the back, and you can tell me all about it where it's more private."

Mrs. Petrowski harrumphed but allowed herself to be steered toward the kitchen. "Mark my words," she called back to Axel. "Check the abandoned mall! That's where it all started!"

As Tony guided her away, Axel caught the man's apologetic glance. "Sorry about that, kid. Mrs. P's been a little... excitable since her husband passed. Pizza's coming up in ten."

After they disappeared into the kitchen, Jeffrey emerged with a weary expression. "She comes in every Sunday," he explained, even though Axel hadn't asked. "Usually it's about aliens or government mind control. This bear thing has really given her new material."

"Yeah, I bet," Axel muttered, wondering how much of Mrs. Petrowski's ramblings were coincidental and how much might be uncomfortably close to reality. The abandoned mall. The remains of that creature. His transformation.

Jeffrey retreated behind the counter, returning to his comic book with the air of someone escaping an awkward situation. The restaurant fell into silence, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator case and the occasional shout from the kitchen.

Axel found himself staring out the window at the quiet street, his mind oddly at ease. The explosion at Mario's. The strange insects Mrs. Petrowski and the cook had mentioned. Giant rats and more. It had originated all from him, most likely. Yet, he felt calm.

"Order up!" Tony's voice called from the kitchen, and Jeffrey scrambled to collect the pizzas.

The teenager emerged with two boxes and a smaller paper bag balanced precariously in his arms. "Large pepperoni, medium veggie, and brownie bites," he announced, setting them on the counter. "Need any plates or napkins?"

"No thanks," Axel replied, already rising from his seat. The smell of the pizzas – once so appetizing – now struck him as vaguely nauseating, like sniffing cardboard sprayed with artificial food scent.

He collected the order and headed for the door, eager to escape the uncomfortable closeness of the small restaurant with its too-bright lights and lingering scent of Mrs. Petrowski's lilac perfume.

"Hey," Jeffrey called after him, "be careful out there, man. My sister works at the hospital, and she says they've got like eight people in with weird bites so far."

Axel nodded without turning around. "Thanks. I'll watch out."

The cool spring air hit Axel's face as he shouldered his way through the door, pizza boxes balanced carefully in his hands. The bell jingled a farewell, its cheerful tone at odds with the hollow feeling spreading through his chest.

"Watch out," Axel muttered to himself, the irony not lost on him. "For what? Me?"

The street was eerily quiet for a Sunday afternoon. Normally, the sidewalks would be bustling with families heading to lunch after church, teenagers loitering outside the arcade, and old-timers occupying the benches in front of the courthouse. Today, only a few brave souls hurried between destinations, eyes darting nervously, as if expecting a bear to come barreling around every corner.

Axel kept his head down as he walked, the aroma of the pizzas drifting up to assault his enhanced senses. What once would have made his stomach growl in anticipation now triggered a vague sense of revulsion. The greasy, processed smell reminded him of chemicals rather than food.

When he reached the corner of Elm and Cedar, where an alleyway cut between the hardware store and the defunct video rental place, Axel ducked inside. His enhanced hearing focused outward, scanning for any sign of observers – the shuffle of feet, breathing, heartbeats. Nothing. The world around him was empty of witnesses.

Balancing the pizza boxes against the brick wall, he carefully opened the top one. Steam escaped, carrying the scent of pepperoni and melted cheese into the air. He tentatively lifted a slice, the cheese stretching and then snapping back as he separated it from the whole.

Once more, he focused on that peculiar sensation – not quite desire, not quite command – that allowed him to open the void. The air shimmered before him, darkness spreading into a perfect circle. The void opened, revealing its absolute nothingness.

"Let's see how you like pepperoni," Axel said to the emptiness, and tossed the pizza slice through the portal.

The slice drifted lazily in the blackness, maintaining the gentle arc of his throw. It tumbled end over end, a greasy spinning galaxy in miniature, neither falling nor rising. Just... existing. Suspended. But the rock he'd tossed earlier was nowhere to be seen.

Axel frowned, scanning the darkness. Somehow, he knew where the rock was – far to what his mind interpreted as "the left," though directions felt meaningless in the void. He focused on that knowledge, and the portal shifted, as though tracking through the nothingness until the rock came into view, still hanging motionless where he'd left it.

"Interesting," he murmured. With another thought, he moved the portal again, seeking the pizza slice. The darkness shifted obediently, and there it was, still drifting exactly as he'd thrown it.

He reached toward it, but the slice was just beyond his grasp. Without really thinking about it, he mentally pulled the void closer, like adjusting a camera lens, until the pizza slice drifted within reach. He plucked it from the nothingness, surprised to find it still warm.

"Well, that's handy," Axel commented, studying the retrieved slice. It appeared completely unchanged by its journey through the void. No discoloration, no strange effects. Just regular pepperoni pizza.

He sniffed it experimentally, then grimaced. The same repulsive processed smell. His new dietary restrictions would make this lunch date with Laura tricky. How was he supposed to eat pizza in front of her when the very thought made his stomach turn?

But then, just thinking of Laura – the way sunlight caught in her honey-blonde hair, how her smile created that tiny dimple in her left cheek – sent a different kind of feeling through him. Something warm and human and very much at odds with the monster he'd become. The gnawing hunger that had been his constant companion since the transformation receded slightly, like a tide pulling back from shore.

"Huh," Axel said softly, realizing the pattern. Every time he thought of Laura, the hunger diminished. Was it some psychological thing? Or was there something more to it? Either way, it was a welcome respite.

He closed the portal with a thought and carefully repackaged the pizza, making sure the missing slice wasn't obvious. The twins always expected him to sneak a piece or two on the way home anyway.

As he emerged from the alley and continued his journey home, Axel found himself wondering if there was a way to control his condition beyond the temporary relief Laura's memory provided. Could he eat normal food if he tried hard enough? Or was he destined to hunt forever, always hiding, always hungry?

The problem of having Laura over now loomed large in his mind. He couldn't exactly tell her, "Sorry, I can't eat pizza anymore because I'm actually the monster that killed your boyfriend." But pretending to eat would be suspicious too. He'd need some kind of excuse...