Worse Than Alone

20251001

Prompt from Bradley Ramsey's "First Indulgence" event.

If Kelly had known the world was about to end she wouldn’t have gone to work. She’d have spent the day going wild.
Then again, if everyone had known the world was going to end, all the good places to go wild would’ve been packed and possibly dangerous. So maybe it was for the best that the end just… happened. She went to bed Wednesday night like usual, and woke up Friday morning. Her initial panic about unscheduled absence quickly replaced with confusion as she found the internet down and the world… empty.
Kelly shivered and pulled her hood snug against her neck. This dreary grey mist suffusing the city carried a pervasive, creeping chill that no garment or brisk movement could hold back. After wandering the streets for hours she felt she should be damp but not this cold. Yet she was dry as a linen cupboard and shivering.
It was all so surreal.
Windows shone light into the street. Shops were open whenever she tried the door. And the buildings were thankfully warm inside.
Time still seemed to be passing; clocks ticked as they should, her phone was in sync, and hunger and thirst maintained their familiar cadence. Entirely unlike a dream. Which was deeply upsetting. At lunchtime Kelly helped herself to a supermarket sarnie selection and left her emergency taxi tenner next to the till. Not sure what she was going to do for dinner.
She peered into every building and vehicle. Searching for someone, anyone. Kept checking her phone in case connection had returned. Kept begging the world that she wasn’t alone.
What had happened?
Maybe the Rapture had finally hit?? One of those raving loonies had to be right eventually. Though surely she wouldn’t be the only person who didn’t qualify? And wasn’t that meant to be just humans? She hadn’t seen or heard a single animal all day. There’d be abandoned pets, and the pigeons and stuff would still be around, right?
Just in case she started trying homes. To her shock, they were all unlocked too. Why? The shops being open… sort of… except no, if the world ended with everyone in bed…
When had it happened? There were cars and trucks in the middle of the road, like people had been driving. No crashes or anything though. The shops likewise looked open for business. As if the staff had simply stepped out back for a moment.
Kelly stopped to peer into a Number 9 bus, which was sitting a few car’s back from an intersection. There were newspapers abandoned inside. No clothes or bags or anything, no definitive proof of passengers, but…
Wrangling the door open was fairly easy. Kelly climbed inside and examined the driver’s compartment.
The key was in the ignition. When she tried turning it the bus obediently sputtered to life, the thrumming under her feet making the hushed world outside feel more unnatural. Kelly shivered and turned it off again. Not like she could drive a bus anyway, even without the the roads being full.
Maybe if she could find a bicycle…
Then again, where would she be going?
Outside the city. See if… whatever this was… had affected everywhere.
Was it a bomb?? Some kind of, of bio attack??? No, that’s absurd. There’d be bodies.
Admittedly, a bomb that could destroy all living things without a trace wasn’t more absurd than this nightmare she found herself in…
The newspapers. Were there any clues there?
Each was from Wednesday. So it wasn’t just that she’d slept through Thursday, it was like that day never happened. Kelly scanned each page, hunting for anything amiss.
Sports… celebrity gossip… there was the political debate about improving the city’s drainage, but any action would’ve taken months, right? She supposed they could’ve angered some… ancient sewer-deity. Or something. Not like she had a better explanation.
She heaved a sigh and left the papers piled on the front seat.
Alright. Time to properly search a home. See if… there was anyone in bed.
Kelly steeled herself and tried the nearest door. It opened without resistance. Not just unlocked - it had one of those auto-locks on the door, set to unlatched. Surely nobody in the city centre would ever put their door off-latch? Certainly not overnight.
It was exactly the kind of pokey flat you’d expect for the area. Just… immaculately tidy. Not showroom empty, there was normal lived-in clutter on the sides and all, but everything was lined up square and carefully stacked. And not a speck of dust.
Ok. Well… neat freaks were a thing. At least, they had been.
That thought shook loose a crazed giggle which bounced around Kelly’s throat before escaping into the deathly quiet. She clamped a hand over her mouth.
The bedroom. Terrifying though it was, she had to check the bedroom.
Her trembling hand felt distant, dislocated, as she fumbled the door open.
The bed was empty. She deflated in relief.
Empty and made. The room felt like a hotel’s, waiting for guests. Just as clean and tidy as the rest of the flat.
Hm. What about the next?
Different furnishing and decorations and clutter. Same obsessive neatness.
What were the odds of two unconnected people using hospital corners on their beds? She’d never met anyone who did that.
Frowning, Kelly walked out into the street - and paused. Something tickling at her mind.
The bus. She’d left the bus door open. Yet it was closed.
She looked at the front. Number 9.
She peered in the windows. The papers were there… scattered in the exact spots they’d been before she moved them.
She looked up and down the street. There was no other bus. There was nobody at all. Just the silence. And the chill. And the endlessly swirling fog.
Behind her, the flat door swung shut.
Kelly bolted. Painfully aware she had no destination and no idea what she was running from.
Despite what she’d been thinking all day, there was something worse than being alone.

Prompt was “You wake up 24 hours after the world has ended. You can’t find anyone, but something tells you you’re not alone.”