1 The End of The World

I sat bruised, bloody and beaten amid my enemies, their predatory grins dug into my pride as I knew that they only waited for a single word to tear into me. Luckily, the one to give the order wasn't present and I only suffered a periodic smack to the back of my head.

My jailors were kind enough to let me have access to a television, more for their entertainment and less of mine, of course, but it gave me all the information I needed and even more.

"Just last night, the Russian government finally confirms that it is under attack from a neighbouring country."

"Yeah, I don't think there's any need at this point for confirmation, we've got clear footage of the battlefield a full aerial and ground view too."

"Ah, yes George, let's have the clip played," she pauses to look to the camera, "Viewers, please be warned, what you are about to witness can only be described as deeply disturbing."

The station slides over to play the clip and it is truly disturbing. A screech pierces through the rumble of the battlefield, with an aerial view it is easy to see the Russian forces being pushed back into their own territory as their abominable enemies encroach. Enemies that felt no pain, enemies that held no weapons, enemies that crawled, walked, ran and jumped to their prey, devouring them whole the moment their rotting teeth sink in.

Enemies that could only be described as Zombies.

I'd seen the footage many times during my imprisonment. The first time I'd seen it I immediately knew that my Russian allies would offer no help to me in my captivity. I knew that they would be devoured whole by the unending horde of zombies that marched into their lands. I also knew who was responsible for such a bizarre happening.

Being X.

The extra-dimensional being that had deprived me of permanent death and thrown me into a seat of power, given me magical powers and control over my country. The extra-dimensional being that tasked me to take over the world. It was the only thing I knew to be powerful enough to bring about such a phenomenon in the modern world.

"You know the President intends on fighting that." One of my three captors speak.

"Seriously? How the hell does he want to do that?"

"Yeah dude, you haven't heard? It's the entire reason we're at war with this bitch." This one smacks my shoulder to make his point, "Apparently, Mister President here has a dangerously powerful weapon that can make you feel anything and everything."

"Oh really? Well, how come he hasn't ordered its use yet? The war would be over with us just feeling super sad or depressed or some shit like that."

"Huh. Good question," this one squats in front of me, staring me in the eye, "Well Mister President? Why haven't you used your superweapon?"

I put on a grin myself and answer, "Well that's information only your dear leader is privy to, you wouldn't want to bear the responsibility of knowing your country is about to be overrun by the people you've been attempting to invade."

The man's face lost its smile, only staring dead at me like I hadn't said anything at all.

"So, what you mean to say is," he stands to his full height, scratching the back of his ear as he looked down to me and spoke, "Schelar, that half-baked, poverty-stricken country of yours, is going to conquer Madagascar?"

"Yes."

I don't fail to catch the flash of anger that runs through his eyes, but he restrains himself, his grip tightening around his baton. "You're lucky the President wants you clean."

"Like I'm so proper right now," I roll my eyes at the three, "Yeah, thanks for the concussion."

Before their growls could turn into bites, the door swings open and a man of rather average height walks in. His dark tanned skin is aged and his walking step resonates the fatigue of a man at work.

I recognize this man, his face has been burned into my mind as the face of the man who set me in this position, this presidential position. He was the man whose actions or rather, inaction gave way to the birth of the Nation I rule, the Nation I represent, the Nation he was once again at war with.

He strained to take his seat, old age no doubt wearing on his muscles and joints. With a wave of his hand he dismisses his goons, they bow and troop out of the room, leaving him and I in silence.

"I didn't think our first meeting would be like this, Fatah."

Fatah, my last name, my father's name. I knew well enough that this man had much familiarity with my family, he spared my father's life and my father betrayed him for it.

"Please, call me President Fatah."

The man snorts, holding his hand to his mouth, pushing back the laughter that threatened to burst out of him. "Enough theatrics dear boy, your fathers little Nation has gone rogue long enough, it is time to wear the collar, you are President of nothing."

I'd told myself that very same line several times throughout this damnable war, but at this moment I didn't believe it. "What do you want? A surrender? You'll have to lead by example if that's the case."

This time he doesn't hold back, he laughs and laughs, his flabby cheeks bounce around as he trembles in his seat, slapping his knee and wiping a tear of his eyes like the villainous scum he is, "You think your men will save you? Your men are too busy retreating the lines they sacrificed so many to take," he smirks cruelly at me, "Under your orders no doubt."

"On their pride as citizens of Schelar, the Nation you struggle to stifle," I return his cruel smirk, "Your first mistake was letting us gain independence, Marofo!"

Marofo unbuttons his suit, seemingly unfazed by my words, his face is stiff, thoroughly unamused at me, "You know what my first mistake was?" he asks, getting comfortable in his seat, "It was believing your bullshit threats. Superweapon? What was I thinking? Believing a child playing politics in an oversized suit, sitting in a chair too big for his form. What was I thinking, trusting my damnable advisors over my gut instinct?"

He shakes his head in anger and disbelief, "But I'll give you credit for it all. That video with that man? Thwarting my men in your territory? Being goddamn ballsy enough to lie straight-faced to me. Getting in bed with the Russians? And all to protect what you believe is yours…I respect that."

He nods and in his eyes, I truly saw respect.

"I'd be very flattered if it wasn't for the fact that you're keeping me, hostage, here."

"But all that changes today. I respect you, young man but you've gotten in my way for far too long and the world isn't in the right place for me to tolerate your presence in territory that belongs to the Federal Republic of Madagascar any longer." He shakes his head fervently, "As its President-"

"Dictator."

"-I have a responsibility to secure the interests of all Malagasy people, so sign the papers already and maybe I won't kill everyone in your so-called military."

"That's not what you did though."

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me," I look up to him, my head tired of hanging over, "You neglected the duties you swore an oath to uphold, there were two plagues, running across Madagascar and you did nothing to stop it! What did you think we would just roll over and die? You failed to protect us, you put your personal interests, your greed for power, above the very people that give you that power. You turned our democracy into…into nothing."

He looked at me shaken, shaken that I would slap the truths that had been haunting him for over ten years, over a decade. "You should be grateful my father revolted against you, he saved you the stress of looking out the window and watching all your countrymen suffer because of your selfishness."

"I should have put a bullet in your father the moment he knelt at my feet, begging to be left alive!" his outburst had him kick off his chair, fists balled up ready to strike, "That's what I should have done…that's what I should have done."

For a minute, the only sound that could be heard was Marofo's heavy breaths and my fast-beating heart. But soon came relief, in the form of a glass shattering explosion.

Now my ears rang and the room was darker than before, Marofo flung to the ground and I still bound to the metal chair the guards had put me in with my cheek pressing against the cold floor.

'Finally.'

At last, the Calvary, in the form of the Schelarian airforce had arrived.

"Ooh…uh…urgh."

I hear Marofo groaning on the floor in front of me, his eyes were shut closed and he was bleeding from the side of his head. He was most definitely unconscious. But I needed him not to be, someone had to untie me before the guards gathered themselves and realized their President should be their prior concern.

I set my eyes on him and focus my will as I'd done many times before, inflicting unto my target the feelings I desire them to feel. And in this case, the feeling is an adrenaline rush.

"Woooaahh!" Marofo shoots up, holding his head, eyes just about ready to pop out. "What just happened?"

Ignoring Marofo's confusion and wriggling violently on the floor, against my bonds, "Hey! Come untie me. This place is going to blow up!"

He looks around, getting his bearings a bit and finally his eyes land on me. He smiles.

"Looks like you did have something up your sleeve," He walks toward one of the large shattered glasses of the windows and picks it up.

"What do you think you're doing? Marofo? What do you think you're doing!"

His grin widens and he licks the blood dripping down the side of his face, "Well, it seems many of my plans have gone awry haven't they? It was your forces that made that attack wasn't it." He shakes his head bitterly, "No wonder you didn't break, you knew…"

He stalked closer and as he did I knew he had no intention of cutting my ropes with the jagged shard in his hands.

"Marofo, if you come any closer, I'm going to paralyze your legs."

He doesn't stop and I doubt he is listening. The look on his face had turned murderous.

I let out a sigh and as he takes one more step closer I fulfil my promise.

"Ar-ahgh!"

He drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes, the shard in drops and clatters away.

"What, what did you do to me!?"

"I did exactly what I told you I would."

Suddenly, there's a banging at the door, my head whips to the intrusion and soon I hear voices calling out for Marofo behind the door. The guards had woken up.

"Help!! I'm in here!! I'm Alive!"

Fuck. I'd meant to be out of my bonds before help came for Marofo. My last resort was to break my thumb and slip out. But I didn't want to do that! I'd just rebirthed into this body barely six months ago and the worst it had gone through was being forced into a coma.

Plus, I had supernatural powers, I'd much rather use those than subject myself to pain.

"Marofo," I call out under his screams for help and the banging on the door, "Remember the secret weapon I used on that man…I am that weapon."

His screams stop and he looks at me with a look filled with doubt, surprise and fear.

"I'll prove it to you again, just in case you think it's your blood sugar that took out your legs. I'm going to blind you."

"Wait what?"

After much practice with rather unwilling volunteers, I'd gotten a grip on my power to inflict sensations and it only takes me a second to render the President of Madagascar blind.

"AHAAHH!!! Stop! I'll untie you!"

I let his blindness settle in for a few seconds before relieving him. He stumbles a bit, thanking and praying to God under his breath. I can only scoff, I was the closest to God he'd ever be.

I jump to my feet and stretch, excitedly cracking all the joints I'd been too tied up to get to.

"Thank you, Marofo. I'm sure you'll be making yourself scarce."

At that moment the doors burst open and men troop in and within moments notice they're all pointing their weapons at me.

Despite the reckless actions with my powers that got me imprisoned, I forced my powers to incapacitate over a thousand people. But when I'm not running insane, five is the suitable max.

"Shoot him quick you buffoons!" Marofo's panicked screams jolt the three men into action but with a wave of my hand, each of them falls asleep, dropping to the ground the same way Marofo did.

I step over their bodies and collect a pistol and an extra magazine. There were bound to be more than five men out there and I couldn't afford to stress my powers lest I enter another coma.

With my newly acquired gun loaded and the trigger pulled I take aim.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three kill shots. I turn around and face Marofo who'd fallen to the floor and was crawling away from me.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance. Same mistake, different Fatah."

Bang!