I guessed I'd be flattered if Gainax wrote me to say that their lawyers would be having a word with me for my impertinence, but let's just hope that doesn't happen. I mean, I'm not making any money here or anything.
Do excuse the shameless self-promotion, but I'd like to think another story of mine - 'The Last Man' - forms a nice contrast to this piece. It's a suspense-horror, but do give it a chance. It's got such nice spelling and stuffz! Though the grammar's a bit all-over-the-place. So yes. Enjoy!
Many thanks to EJ for his help with the grammar and the 'feel' of this one-shot.
He awoke just before his alarm went off, as usual.
Sleepy, he nuzzled the pillow and waited.
He awoke again, later. Though there was a strange ringing in his ears, he didn't remember hearing his alarm, or turning it off...
He frowned, blinking hard as he fumbled for the clock. He brought it close to his face and inspected it. It was five...
He blinked again.
Five forty-three. He looked out the window.
The skies were a dark, uniform grey but it was definitely daytime.
He lay there - for a minute? - looking at his clock.
He fumbled around with the battery, hoping the second-hand would start working again - but no. He couldn't remember when he'd last changed it. Today was...
Monday.
He leapt out of bed, then regretted the sudden movement as he stopped to hunch over on his desk for a moment. He waited out the dizziness, and the faint ringing sensation. It was a dark day; the ground was still dry but that would probably change soon.
He flew down the hallway to check the kitchen-clock and see if his room-mates were up yet. Asuka wouldn't have just left him, would she? She probably would've smashed through his door and hauled him out of bed, standing him before the hob and putting a knife to his back...
He almost stopped to blink and reflect upon how crazy that last thought was when he remembered: Monday. He bustled into the kitchen, seeking out the clock he always used-
He didn't freeze, but he went very still for a moment.
Five forty-five. Give or take a couple of minutes.
He frowned, checking the battery. It was in, but neither of the thing's hands were moving.
This wasn't a very good prank. It had made him late. Very late, maybe. And it wasn't even funny.
He moved a little faster now as he searched for the TV remote. Asuka kept moving it, no matter how many times he had politely avoided bringing the issue up and made a point of always putting it in exactly the same place. Finding it, he turned the TV on and tried to think of a news channel.
He pressed the big red button again after a few seconds.
A bit more forcefully, the third time.
He went up to the television and pressed the 'on' button.
And again.
He stepped back, eyes narrowed. The little light wasn't on, either.
Still not funny.
He went to check the power cable - it was in, the switch was flicked. Everything was on.
Or was it? He went to a lamp and flicked its switch. It remained off. He didn't hear the refrigerator's usual hum, now that he listened for it. But there was a sound he couldn't quite make out, so faint he wasn't sure he'd really heard it at all...
He put his hands on his hips. The power was out. Or maybe they'd turned off the power. Or maybe the power had gone out, then they'd decided to make it a prank.
Putting the remote back in its place, he went and knocked on Misato's door.
A little louder, the second time.
So loud it was rude, the time after that.
After a long pause, he slid the door open a finger's-width.
Looking through, he opened it to a hand's-width.
She wasn't in.
He slid it shut again. Then headed to Asuka's room and did the same thing.
She wasn't in either. On a whim he slid her door all the way open... and shut it again, heading instead for Misato's room. Muttering a hushed apology to her in her absence, he entered and soon found Misato's clock by her futon.
Five forty.
It wasn't working either, though it had a battery. Feeling as unamused as ever, he decided to get dressed and get to school. Somehow. There were buses and things. He'd find a way.
He was almost out the door when he remembered his SDAT player. Dashing back to his room, he soon stood by his bed with it in hand.
It didn't work.
More disappointed than angry, he took it anyway.
Walking down the empty street, he realised he'd never appreciated just how empty the city looked at mid-morning, or whenever it was. Perhaps it was because of the SDAT; now it was broken, he was forced to truly be a part of the world he normally just passed through as a visitor, or an observer. But it really was quiet today. Very quiet.
In fact, he hadn't seen anyone yet.
The lingering sound, or shadow of a sound, made him pinch his nose and pop his ears. But it was still there. Maybe. It was like the high whine of a television or computer screen, the kind older people couldn't hear - he couldn't really hear it, and yet he could...
He checked his thoughts there, again. Today was a bad day for weird thoughts. Then again, today was a pretty weird day, too. No thanks to his room-mates.
Or at least, he hoped it had been them. The thought of his father being behind all of this came to mind surprisingly quickly. Or unsurprisingly, maybe, given... but he wouldn't do this, would he?
Would he?
He was starting to get a bit spooked, now. It was mid-morning, maybe, and there was no-one. No-one at all. The city was empty, and dark. It was far too quiet. No cars, no trains, no construction work... just wind, and branches and leaves.
And the sound.
He came across a convenience store and he ran up to it, wanting nothing more than to burst inside and demand the time from the counter-guy or girl or whatever, just to talk to someone for a moment. Anyone.
It was shut.
He kept walking. Why hadn't he seen a bus stop? He saw them all the time, on the way to school. And to Nerv. This was the right way to school, they always passed that store...
A little, unsettling while later he came across more shops. They were closed, too. All were dark inside. The cloud cover had gotten just that bit thicker as well, the street itself a touch darker - shouldn't the street-lights be coming on? He kept going.
Someone had left their front door open. It creaked open and shut in the breeze.
Realising he'd stopped to stare, he hurried on.
Not long afterwards, he stopped in front of the all-night convenience store. It had been out of the way and he'd be even later now, and this was stupid...
It was dark inside, but the door was ajar. Just glad to find a place that was open, he pushed his way in and the door-bells tinkled.
"Hullo?"
Inside all was quiet, and still.
Outside there was the breeze, and the whisper of the wind between the branches and through the alleyways and under the cars and around and about the swirling leaves...
And the sound. The humming, buzzing, rasping, shrieking, whispering, disparate and concordant sound on and below the edge of hearing.
It seemed louder.
Closer.
He looked back into the shop. Suddenly, its darkness terrified him. He fled into the dim light of the street.
He walked fast, now, very fast. He started power-walking the way to school, or what he hoped was the way, he didn't recognise this street. Or the next. Or the one after that. But it'd be fine. He knew the way, right? He was late, but that was okay. He'd find a bus, yeah, there was always a bus. He just had to keep walking, and stay ahead of...
For the third time he stopped himself thinking, even as he broke out into a jog. He didn't look back, didn't look around him. The day was dark, now, very dark. He'd thought it had been mid-morning, but it seemed more like mid- or late-afternoon now and it was cold. The icy wind raised goosebumps on his skin.
The wind whistled, rustled, and howled. But over and below it, and all around him...
The city sang with the sound.
He ran.
Finally he came across a bus-stop. Panting and wiping cold sweat from his eyes he struggled to remember the name of the school's suburb, then tried to match it up with the lines and their destinations, checking the map... he found a line. He checked the times – the service was fairly regular, twice an hour every hour during daytime - then looked to the clock.
With the sound ringing in his ears, he froze.
He made himself turn around.
Nothing.
The street was empty, and silent.
He remained tense–
End.