Fish and liver are two things that shouldn't be left to rot. After all, the smells of these two meats when their proteins decompose is the closest stench to death. Chance, however lucky he was to even have a still beating heart, awoke to the smell of rot and ass.
In his sleep he had jostled about, in a prone and crawling position, like he was trying to run away. Unfortunately, his antics placed him halfway up a dead man's ass. A putrid green film covered the exposed viscera of the man's torn torso.
Chance, opening his eyes to the disgustingly horrific sight of Charles, blinked rapidly as if to clear his sight. He fumbled with his still injured arm, lifting it up to prod at his face, until he realized he wasn't dead.
"Ha, ha ha!" The teen laughed anxiously, "If there's really a God out there, you're a fucking sick twisted son of a bitch."
The nervous energy Chance disposed was nearly exhausted at that point. Chance felt a faint chill crawl up his back when he finished admonishing God. He broke into a cold swear. Realizing what ever out there was stronger than him, Chance decided to resign to fate. Chance reasoned that if accepting death once saved him from dying, why worry about death at all.
A deep padded sound of breaking branches came from Chances right side. Chance dared not to look at the source of the sound. Hissing breaths spread around the young man, encircling him. Realizing he was being stalked, a primal indignance kindled within his body.
Chance abruptly stood and screamed, "If you're going to fucking do it, do it!"
A low growl hummed like a one thousand decibel bass boosted engine. Chances ears began to feel uncomfortable as thick liquid leaked from them. A slight perforation was created in rhe young man's ear. Hearing became harder. Unaware of his growing disability, Chance continued to scream.
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Swiftly, as if realizing the small creature known as Chance was too feisty for it's like, the source of the disturbances left.
After screaming a while longer, Chance realized his hearing was slightly muffled. He cursed gingerly after touching the side of his face and noticing fresh blood from his ears.
Searching for a proper orientation, the young man finally spied the roof of the convenience store. He began to take unsure steps towards the building. The hopes of life were once again kindled in his form.
After several hours of walking towards the building in the distance, Chance had a revelation.
Chance realized the distance to the convenience store was no longer than a stone skip away previously. The time he had walked currently, although injured, seemed nearly three times as long as usual. Chance also compensated if he was hypersensitive towards time.
Thinking back, Chance realized that Charles' body had begun to decompose. Chance made the conjecture that Charles might just be a ball of puss and fungus in two days and by three days, bones. Chance felt a faint sense of loss. He looked at his wounded arms, legs, head, and body. His hands traced the injuries that faintly itched. Pressing further down into the inflamed masses, Charles realized he was already healing.
'What does this mean?', Chance asked himself. He then thought back on the massive shadow that came right as he lost consciousness. He thought of how Charles was extremely perturbed and completely ignored his existence. He thought of the beast that growled and ruptured his eat drums. 'Were those animals,' he asked. His thoughts raced with a clarity he had never experienced before. 'Is this still the Earth I know?'
Chances thoughts led him to walk without conscious thought. His mind was within his body but his body was without his mind. Two hours past while he was in this state, the sky was darkening once more, but Chance was now at the convenience store. The half demolished building awoke Chance from his stupor. With the sight of potential food and water before him, Chance felt his fatigue even more distinctly. His body acted as if he was an addict in withdrawls. He barely forced his hands toward the sliding doors, pressing on the weather proofed glass, when a cracking followed by a shattering sound rang out.
The glass of the door burst into fine sand allowing entrance into the building. A humid and rank smell of soured milk, mold, and ripe bodies decomposing spread with the fresh air entering the building. Chance, ignoring his sense of smell, walked into the dark of the building. Damaged goods or not, he was bound to find something useful for himself.