For those of you who knew me from the begining, you'll remember this story. My fourth story after 'The Shy the Bold and The Dead', 'The Twisted Tales of Phineas and Ferb Friends', and 'Cold'. Now it is my 50th, finishing of a year of horrid writing from me.
This is a one shot about Cub's Post-Apocalyptic Birthday.
Cub wakes up one morning to a luxurious sunrise. "Happy Birthday, Me!" he applauds loudly, hands flailing. He stretches, yawns, and climbs from his crib and crawls down stairs.
The air is still and cold.
No one was at the kitchen table.
Where's Pop , he thought anxiously.
He walked outside to see no one there either. Mime's cat and the killer turtle were out but their owners wer nowhere to be seen. He cautiously climbed out onto the porch and looked around.
Nobody.
He grinned happily. He went to the park to play in the sandbox. He ate as much coffee as he wanted. He rode a firetruck.
Still there was an odd sort of void in his heart. He, by this time of day, would of expected someone to have killed him by now. Pop should have been standing there to cause his death. It didn't feel the same without death. Cub walked to the hospital and decided to die and see wher it leads him.
With a knife against his throat, he pressed down and waited. After a couple of minutes he looked down to inspect the damage, he saw that he had bleeded copious amounts and was pale as a peice of paper. He still wasn't dead!
Cub positioned himself at the top of the cliff ready to jump. One step and ... he waits quietly as the wind rushes up his face. A 'THUD!' accompanies the extreme pain at the bottom.
He looks around and sees his body, crushed incalculably as it leans over to the ground, but still alive.
Poison is the answer, he thinks as he looks around his bathroom. He spots his mother's old hair dye lying down under her picture. Cub swallows the bottle whole. He quickly begins to choke as the bottle clogs his throat. He looks in the mirror, blood, dye, and cerebral fluid are all coming out his mouth. Miraculously as it is annoyingly, he still lives on.
He walks down the stairs.
The livingroom is dark, butit has a small T.V. he could watch. The lights flick on and every body pops out. "Happy Birthday Cub!" It was a suprise party! Pop walked over to Cub and told him,
"Don't matter you die a lot, what matters is your happiness!" Cub looked on. He was overflowing with happiness, and something else. His chest swelled rapidly, untill his heart, a knife, and the dye bottle came roaring out of his mouth.
Cub died finally, the guests are covered in blood, and he needs to clean up a dead body.
"Cake anyone?!"
Happy Post-Apocalypse!