What’s for supper? Jack thought, wandering aimlessly down the aisles. 

He didn’t really have a destination in mind, as usual. Though he was self conscious of the time he’d been spending in the grocery stores as of late. Not for any bad reason, mind. It was just a fact he was aware of. Last time he’d gone shopping, he was in and out of the store with a hundred and fifty dollars worth of groceries in fifteen minutes. The time before that, it only took ten minutes. This time, he was determined to break his record and stay in the store for longer than twenty.

“Han! Darling! Is that you!?” An old lady cooed to an asian man nearby.

Han turned around, a box of rice in either hand. His smile grew at the sight of the elderly lady across the aisle. “Hey Mrs. Baker! How’s it going?”

“Oh my dear, you’ve grown so strong!” The woman giggled, parking her cart. “I always knew you were a man after your father!”

The bastards stood on either side of the aisle. Jack was taught as a kid that you never walked between two people who were talking to each other. That was rude. He just couldn’t believe that people were mindless enough to stand at opposite ends of the aisle, forcing Jack to walk between them! It always felt so wrong, to cut between two good friends.

He imagined pulling a knife out of nowhere, swiping it across Han’s throat. He’d have to go first, since he was the bigger man. Jack could deal with the old lady whenever he wanted. But what if Han blocked? He couldn’t dodge in too many directions, his back was to the shelving after all. Should Jack go for the legs instead? No, the cart was in the way.

“I gotta go. The wife’s making spaghetti for supper, and I don’t like it cold!”

Jack walked between the two of them, deep in thought.

Spaghetti. Not a bad idea.

----------------------------------------

Jack shimmied the pan over the burner, mixing the ground pork with the sauce. He had ground beef, but that was useful in other recipes. Ground pork was cheaper, and it worked with spaghetti just fine. His phone buzzed on the counter next to him. It’d been going off constantly, a consequence of being in his family's group chat. After deciding that the meat was mixed enough, Jack let go of the pan and picked up the phone.

‘All done!’ His sister texted.

‘Good for you!’ His mother texted back. ‘Let’s see the little guy!’

‘One sec!’

Oh no. Jack thought. His sister was a vet, and this latest call was her first ever live birth for a local farm horse. Well, local for her, since she lived in a town outside the big city nearly two hours away. 

Just as he had dreaded, she posted a ‘cute’ selfie of herself next to the little foal. Quickly followed by a picture of the foal’s ‘hooves’.

Jack calmly put the phone face down. The chat was quiet for a few seconds. Without even looking at it, he knew that his mother would soon barrage her poor daughter with worries over the amount of blood and odd protrusions, followed by his sister excitedly explaining what the purpose the malformed hooves served. Thankfully, Jack was internet savvy, so he knew this information in advance. He had no interest in learning it again.

So instead, Jack just resumed shimmying his meal.

Clack.

Jack heard the sounds of claws touching wood. He lived alone, with no pets. Not that that detail was pertinent, because whatever made that sound was definitely heavier than some cat or dog.

He turned around to find a goblin standing in his kitchen, on the far side of the island. 

Jack quirked his head.

A goblin? A little green fantasy creature with pointed teeth, tribal tattoos, and teeth necklaces. Its pure yellow eyes found Jack’s own quickly. Grinning literally from pointed ear to pointed ear, the little creature vaulted over the chair in front of it and dove over the counter for Jack, knife first.

Well I may as well, since I’m holding it anyways.

Jack spun to put his back to the creature. He rolled along the counter, picking up speed. The saucepan in his hand whipped in a precise arc for the goblin, striking true against its temple. Brain matter and spaghetti sauce splattered in equal measure against the microwave. The goblin’s body was thrown off course, crashing into the fridge with a solid thunk.

Jack regarded the corpse for a while. He sniffed.

Damn. There goes supper.

He turned off the burners and grabbed his phone. Calmly, he walked over to the window, looking through the blinds into the backyard. He didn’t see anything there, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. After all, goblins didn’t exist outside of fiction. And he’d certainly know how one got inside his house, much less his kitchen without his knowing. Was this happening everywhere else? Just to be safe, he had to assume so.

Jack walked to the stairs, phone in hand. Should he call his family? Calling his sister wouldn’t do anything, since she was so far away. And his parents might not be in as lucky of a position as he was. If they were hiding, they might not want to make any noise. A text then. To his mother, since his father was losing his hearing, and text messages made a loud ding on his phone.

No service…

Oh well. Jack stuffed the phone in his pocket and opened the door to his room. He paused in the doorway.

What am I, stupid? What if there were more!?

Immediately after chastising himself, Jack closed the door quietly and wandered around the rest of the upstairs. Luckily, not a thing was out of place. Just in case though, Jack grabbed the nearest weapon, in this case, a plunger, and opened his bedroom door once more.

Still nothing. 

But he did hear some glass shatter outside, and a scream.

Sticking to the wall, Jack wandered over to the window, looking out into the street. The crackhouse- sorry. The house with many roommates had their window broken open. Half of the occupants were running into the street, eyes wide and on the house, where a giant lizard beast stood in their window. It wore tribal clothes, distinctly more civilized than the goblin’s. It also wore human blood around its maw. It fell to the unkempt grass below the window, immediately taking off after the occupants.

One of them was blindsided by a bear the size of a car. More screams sounded out, scattered about the neighborhood. Jack eyed dozens of wildly different monsters prowling the streets, each of them attracted to the noises people created. Windows broke, doors were busted down, and blood spilled. Somewhere in the distance, tires screeched.

Jack left the blinds open. No need to attract attention with movement.

What’s wrong with you? The voice in his head asked.

What? Jack asked it back. 

Look at yourself! Jack was taking off his shorts to put on some jeans. Look at your hands!

Jack sat on his bed and looked at his hand. Rock steady, save for the rhythmic tremors of his heartbeat.

That’s not normal! You saw those people outside! You should be panicking! Running around and-

That’s stupid. Jack argued, buttoning up his jeans. He reached for a second pair. I’m alive, ain’t I?

You killed something! You’ve never killed something before! This isn’t a normal reaction!

Self defense. Jack shut down the voice. 

Listening to it was helpful a lot of times, especially when he was younger and getting used to how things worked in the real world. It rationally walked him through his parents' lessons. Don’t hit people. Don’t shout. Don’t talk to strangers. Go to school. Eat healthy. Get a job. These were the things that normal people did. And that’s what Jack was. Just any other normal person.

But Jack wasn’t stupid. That was one thing that made him stand out.

Well, that and his strength.

He wasn’t impressively large for a 20 year old, but his muscles weren’t made by working out. They were made by working. Construction, concrete, metalwork, you name it, Jack’s probably done it. He wasn’t an expert in any of these aspects, due to the fact that he didn’t stick with any job longer than a year, but that was besides the point.

Wait, does this mean I don’t have to go to work tomorrow? 

He mentally shook his head. That wasn’t important. Ensuring his family was safe was. And that meant getting to them. His sister was obviously out of the question, but his parents just lived two subdivisions away. With cell service down, getting there in person was the next best bet, and Jack wasn’t going to risk injury.

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That meant no vehicles. Nothing that could make noise to attract the monsters. It also meant no biking. Though it would be faster, if he got off balance it could easily spell disaster. Walking would be the smartest choice.

Jack donned a ratty jean jacket atop his usual letterman jacket. All told, it was way too hot for spring weather, but the extra padding would come in handy, and most importantly, it was quiet. He rooted through his effects, looking for other items he should take along.

A pocket knife went in his pocket. Jack never used the thing before, it used to belong to his grandpa. But it might come in handy. He also collected several belts. Not leather ones, because the buckles on those ones clinked with movement. Cloth belts, with two D shaped rings to loop through. The belts were wrapped around Jack’s arms and torso, to keep loose clothing down and internals inside, should he ever get injured. Finally, there was a paintball mask that he had to buy for his friend's birthday party. He’d kept it next to his bed in case of an intruder, along with the pocket knife. This would be the first time he’d use them.

Now all Jack needed was a proper weapon. He walked back down the stairs into the kitchen, wary of intruders. Thankfully, none had broken in during his absence.

He stepped over the pooling blood of the goblin. It held a knife, but Jack didn’t like the make of it. He opted for his frying pan instead. It was longer, heavier, and clearly it was effective enough to kill.

The keys to the house were too loud for Jack’s liking. But he needed them to unlock the garage. His tools were in there, meaning he could get an actual weapon instead of a frying pan. A hammer would do. 

After donning his steel toed work shoes and gripping his keys tightly, Jack unlocked the back door and left the safety of his house. He closed it quietly behind himself, leaving it unlocked. After peering around the corner for enemies but finding none, Jack set down his frying pan. Next to the door was a metal garbage can. The lid would work as a nice shield.

A creature growled in the neighboring back yard.

Jack looked between the slats of the fence to see a large black dog with red eyes staring back at him. Quill-like spines rose off its back, quivering in anticipation.

Jack bolted for the garage, shoving his key in on the first try. The dog monster barked, running in a circle to give itself enough space to leap over the fence in a single graceful leap. Jack threw the door open, leaving the key in the lock so his hand remained free. With calculated movements, he rounded his bicycle and grabbed the hammer on his toolbox. Without pause, he pivoted in place, lunging for the open door behind him just as the dog bolted through.

Skull met blade. The backside of the hammer pierced the dog’s forehead. Its momentum wrenched the tool from Jack’s grip, and the corpse slid along the concrete floor, only stopping when it hit the barrel of shovels and rakes.

Jack sighed, and went to retrieve his hammer. Suddenly, the dog burst into black smoke, with fiery embers dispersed throughout. They drifted upwards, dissipating as they went. In the place of the corpse was three little dog teeth, as well as a spine piece. The hammer clanked softly to the ground where the head used to be.

While interesting, and definitely something Jack should be considering, he didn’t want to be without his hammer for much longer. He walked through the empty air where the dog was and picked up his weapon, clean of blood. Still thinking of his family, Jack went to move on. He hesitated by the monster drops though, thinking.

With an eye on the door, Jack stepped on the end of the quill and pushed at it with his other foot. The quill bent flexibly. Not viable for a weapon, unfortunately.

Time to move on.

The streets were crawling with monsters. People were screaming and shouting for their own families to ‘get in the car’, clearly not understanding the nightmare that would be traffic in a few minutes. Jack was grateful for their stupidity, because it afforded him the distraction he needed to vault the fences of sequential backyards, heading in the direction of his parents.

When he was forced to cross the road, Jack only did so when a few conditions were met. He either crossed when the street was so chaotic that he was nearly invisible, or when the majority of the monsters were distracted. A few times, there were moments where he couldn’t avoid attention, or was unlucky and got spotted. For those moments, Jack ran three houses deep, vaulting fences every time, before settling down for a fight in the middle of the open space of the backyard.

Each monster he killed turned to black smoke and embers upon death. Lizardfolk, goblins, the monkey-pterodactyl, everything. And just like a video game, they dropped stuff relating to their existence. Only once did a monster drop something other than body parts. A lizardfolk dropped a feather hat, like one an Indian would wear. Sorry, first nation. Or was it aboriginal now? Jack had a hard time remembering.

He got to his parents subdivision intact, if a bit roughed up. His idea of wrapping the belts along his torso and arms had come in handy, as they took the majority of the damage Jack had no choice but to receive. 

There weren’t many houses between Jack and his parent’s house. The rows the houses sat in went perpendicular to his, and that meant he had many more streets to cross. Thankfully, three hours after he’d started this journey, the situation had entered a sort of equilibrium. The humans, what little Jack had seen, were all dead. Without exception. That wasn’t to say that there was no hope for his parents, because surely that just meant that only the humans he couldn’t see were still alive.

Without human targets, the monsters turned to each other. In most cases, they left the others alone, content to enable their own self interests. Building nests, collecting bodies, or just fucking off to go be somewhere else. In the case of the more ‘civilized’ monsters, like the lizardfolk, ratfolk, and goblins, they conglomerated within their respective species, attacking or running away from the other tribes depending on their confidence. Fights over resources, IE human flesh, were common. So too were fires, and distant explosions. The gunshots had quieted some time ago.

Jack checked both ways before crossing the street. Clear. He slowly ran across, trying to conserve what little energy he had left. He vaulted one last fence, entering the backyard of the neighbors across the street from his parents. After peering through the window to check for any surprises, Jack slinked along the wall, heading to the gate near the front of the house. He looked through the wood boards.

His father’s construction company truck was half flattened. What little Jack could see of the windshield was covered in blood enough for two bodies. But still, assuming wouldn’t help. He had to know.

No monsters patrolled the street, so Jack felt confident in walking through. He opened the gate, leaving it open when he walked through. The tires of the truck were flattened, squished to the asphalt. Likewise, the cab was crushed, flattened by something with six huge paws. Jack could see the tracks leading off into a nearby house, where the wall was broken in.

His mothers skeletal arm hung outside a gap in the door. Her watch was in her blood on the ground. Father was in the driver's seat. His stomach was carved out post-mortem from whatever entrepreneurial creature reached through the steering wheel. Though neither of their faces were visible beneath the metal roof, Jack knew these were his parents.

I thought that guts were more colorful than that. Jack quirked his head, staring into his fathers chest. But what do I know. Guess I’ve seen too many movies.

He sniffed, looking around. Now what? His parents were dead, and there was no way he was ever going to see his sister again. 

Why bother.

Jack abandoned stealth, walking down the center of the road towards the green space at the end. He stretched, cracking his neck. His body was beginning to cramp from all the crouching, so walking upright felt nice.

What are you doing? The voice in his head asked.

Jack didn’t feel like arguing. You know…

No! Why!? That’s not something normal people do! That’s wrong! You’re not supposed to do that!

Why was Jack supposed to care? His life didn’t really matter any more, now did it?

As he entered the green space, some goblins carrying sticks towards a makeshift camp spotted him. They called out to their comrades, pointing blades and clubs in his direction.

Doesn’t mean I’m just going to roll over though…

He took a breath, intending to roar out a challenge like those people in the movies. The feeling to do so was fleeting, and embarrassing. So he just released it and lifted his garbage can shield. An arrow pinged off the edge of it a second later, skipping over Jack’s ear. He didn’t flinch.

The first goblin met his hammer soon after.

Jack met each of the attackers head on, dancing around the edges of them with careful consideration. The stupid goblins never considered mob tactics, instead mindlessly charging towards Jack. That wasn’t to say that they weren’t skilled however, as no matter how hard Jack tried, he couldn’t get the archers to hit their own teammates. He hardly had to deal with them at all, since the melee goblins were just too numerous.

A new goblin emerged, carrying a staff. It barked out a few commands, raising its staff. The remaining goblins backed off, giving Jack room to breathe. 

He didn’t let them get far.

“You’re not getting off that easy.” He muttered to his next surprised victim. “Come on you bastards.”

The goblins began scurrying away, confused as to why Jack wasn’t taking the time to recover.

“COME ON!” Jack shouted, charging through the thickest part of the crowd. The archers, finally recovered, took their chances and shot at him. Jack body slammed a nearby goblin out of the way to dodge. His shield caught the arrows he intended to deflect into the crowd on the other side. 

Stupid lid. “COME ON!” Jack shouted again. 

The goblin with the fancy staff stumbled away, pointing his staff at Jack. He kept shouting the same thing, over and over, but Jack couldn’t understand it. He flipped the hammer around in his hand, piercing it through the goblins foot as it fell back. He dragged it back towards himself while punching down with his shield. The goblins neck snapped under the blow. It coughed up blood, splashing Jack’s face. Though it died on the spot, its corpse didn’t vanish.

Jack rolled, dodging a surprise attack from the next goblin. He turned to face them, vision blurring.

Blood and tears dripped off his face.

“KILL ME!”

An invisible wave passed over the goblins, as if they had understood him. All at once, they charged at him, returning to their previous reckless style. One by one, Jack beat them down, turning them to smoke and embers. When the last goblin had died, Jack stood in a circle of dropped loot, and a single monster body.

Growls came from every direction.

Jack tiredly looked around, seeing monsters of every build surrounding him. Giant trolls, carrying trees like clubs. Monstrous dogs, and cats. Ugly birds resting on the trees of the green space. In the direction of his parent’s home, a bear larger than a truck stood on hind legs, holding four arms out to its side in threat.

Jack grinned, tasting the tears drip into his mouth. He dropped his hammer, bent from overuse. A goblin had dropped a short sword during the fight. He picked that up instead, slamming it against his garbage can lid. Already, his mind was racing with thoughts on how to most effectively kill everything here.

He roared in challenge, and the monsters responded in kind.

----------------------------------------

Half an hour later, Jack stumbled back against the only standing tree left in the park, sliding down the trunk. His head was bleeding, he’d broken his shield arm and lost the lid, and more than anything, he was just tired.

But the six armed bear was finally down on the ground. It growled, crawling closer to Jack. Four of its six limbs had their essential tendons cut, and the last pair didn’t reach above its head. The giant beast scraped its head along the ground, getting closer and closer to Jack. He spread his legs, inviting the beast closer.

The bear shoved its snout between Jack’s legs, opening and snapping closed with little energy. Jack, in kind, lifted his broken sword and let it drop on the bear's skull. It did little more than pierce the skin. Strength left his arm, and the blade slid down the bear's face to its blinded eye.

With one last shove, the bear opened its mouth and pressed up against Jack’s torso. In the process, the blade slid neatly into the blinded eye, slipping past the skull behind it and into the brain hidden within. Its mouth shut, one final time, and the creature vanished into black smoke.

A ding sounded above Jack. He tilted his head, looking up at a golden text box floating above his head.

“You have achieved something Awesome.”

Jack snorted.

Awesome…