The End Foreseen

chapter two

I wake hours later, sunlight streaming through the curtains. My alarm clock reads 12:03 P.M. Groaning, I force myself out of bed and stumble to the bathroom. Cold water splashes against my face as I try to scrub away the exhaustion clinging to me.

I glance at the mirror. My reflection looks as wrecked as I feel—dark circles under my blue eyes make them look dull and gray, and my dirty blonde hair a tangled mess from the restless night. Sighing, I brush my teeth, pull my hair back into a loose ponytail, and head for the living room.

Ana must have left to go to work because the house is dark and empty. Outside, thick, black storm clouds have gathered, casting the room in dim shadows despite the large bay windows. I grab the TV remote off the kitchen island and turn on our 72-inch flat screen, mounted to the wall, as I flop onto the oversized brown sectional. Curling my knees to my chest, I tune into the news.

A sharp dressed news anchor appears, her voice calm despite the chaos she describes. "Hospitals are seeing a sudden surge in emergency cases tied to a new strain of COVID. Unlike previous mutations, this strain appears to attack the brain, causing violent seizures, fever, and extreme disorientation.”

The information barely registers—I’m too distracted by the gnawing hunger in my stomach. Casting a glance at the kitchen, I debate whether it’s worth the effort to cook. The answer is a solid no.

PB&J it is.

I throw together the sandwich in record time, toss everything back in the fridge, and settle back onto the couch with my meal. I take a big bite and continue to listen to the news. The gentle patter of rain beating against the window distracts me.

I watch as the storm grows, obscuring the world in a gray cascading curtain, drumming down steady and hard. The sound of the TV droning on in the background about a series of recent disappearances.

Thunder growls, shaking the house, and, as if on cue, The wind begins howling and rain begins cascading down violently against the window. A c***k of lightning flashes, illuminating the yard for a split second. That's when I see it. A figure, looming motionless in the rain, just beyond the window.

A transformer explodes somewhere up the street. The sound makes me jump and a small shriek escapes me, as the power suddenly cuts out, enveloping the house in darkness. I sit frozen, every nerve on edge. Another streak of lightning flashes across the sky an instant later revealing… nothing. Whatever- whoever it was disappeared in a matter of moments.

A chill creeps up my spine, I abandon my sandwich and hurry toward my bedroom to grab my phone. The sound of the creaking house increasing my unease as I go. Increasing my need to call Ana and make sure she's ok, as well as ease my sudden anxiety. Just as I reach the hallway, the sound of glass shattering behind me, cuts through the house like a gunshot.

'What the hell was that?', I think as I whip around and look toward the kitchen where the noise came from. The drying rack on the black marble countertop is empty, its dishes now shattered across the floor. Shards of glass glinting like jagged teeth.

I take a cautious step closer, my socks slipping slightly on the smooth tile. Just as I reach the other side of the island, I hear it—a soft scrape, like something shifting across the glass-strewn floor. A flick of movement catches my eye. A long, black, possibly feline tail disappears behind the counter.

“What the hell?” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the storm.

I edge around the counter, following the strange sight, every muscle in my body tensed. And then I see her.

A woman reclined lazily on the chaise part of the sectional, her head turned to the raging storm outside. She looks ethereal—wild, dark red hair cascading over milky white skin that seems to glow in the dim light. Beside her, a panther-sized Maine Coon stretches languidly, its green eyes fixed on me. Another identical cat pads into view, its movements fluid and deliberate, before curling up beside her.

The stranger turns her head slowly, her glowing green eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, I forget how to breathe, taking in the sight.

“Am I still dreaming?” I murmur uncertainty, as she gets up from the couch, graceful as the felines that accompany her. I blink and she appears before me, grabbing my forearm, causing me to jump and snap out of my stupor. I try to scream but no sound comes out.

“Völva,” she says, her voice reverberating in my mind rather than my ears, her mouth never actually moving. “Beware of the signs.”

Pain flares where her hand grips my arm, a searing, burning sensation that makes my eyes water as it intensifies. My heart pounds as panic surges through me, but I can’t move. It’s as if I’m paralyzed.

I hear the front door open and the jingling of keys. "Izzy! I'm home early.", my cousin announces as she walks in. Allowing me to break eye contact with this strange woman for a moment. When my eyes flick back she's gone and so are the cats. All that remains is the shattered glass and the burn on my arm—a strange, intricate symbol etched into my skin. Which I look at bewildered and confused.