Stay Awake, Stay Alive

I’ve been awake now for 48 hours and I know I won’t be able to stay this way for much longer. Who wants to die at 31—I know I don’t, but I’ll have to sleep sometime. Maybe the end will be painless, however judging by what I’ve observed, it will be anything but. This all started innocently enough.

What I thought was the crown jewel of my life at this point is this penthouse on the 22nd floor of a newly renovated high-rise. The neighborhood had been run down but, because of gentrification, it’s now a great place to call home. Some might say the price was over the top, but it’s hard to put a price on a view like this. A 360-degree glass-walled panorama of the ocean on one side and cityscape on the other. The view convinced me to purchase this place, and it’s the view that may cause my demise.

I first witnessed the ghoulish scene a couple of weeks ago. My neighbors had thrown me a welcome to the building party, which ended just before midnight. Reflecting on the night’s events, I believe it was meant to last a little past midnight; however, having had a long day and facing a full schedule tomorrow, I left earlier than expected. Reveling in my phenomenal view one last time before bed, my attention came to rest on the rooftop directly across the street. The structure, a 12-floor former office building, was surrounded by a chain-link fence. There were refuse chutes running from several windows on various floors and one leading down from the roof. They all ended up in a large trash compactor.

I was about to turn away when the rooftop access door banged open briefly, flooding the doorway with an eerie blue/green light. A spindly appendaged creature with a head resembling an enlarged emoji struggled through the doorway. It was alternately pulling, then pushing a wheelchair. Riding in the chair was the head and torso of Ms. Alexander, a neighbor I had met recently. She was missing both arms and both legs. The thing wheeled her to the chute and tipped her into it; then returned to the doorway with the empty chair. Before closing the door, it looked up in my direction, shook its head in a disapproving manner, and retreated into the building.

The evening’s drinks and hors d’oeuvres rushed from my stomach to the toilet bowl as I tried to make sense of what I had just witnessed. Torn between calling the police and trying not to sound like a stoner on a bad acid trip, and going to bed, I chose the bed. The next morning, still shaken by the evening’s events, I rode the elevator to the basement garage. It made one stop before mine and Ms. Alexander stepped in. We smiled, exchanged pleasantries, and went our separate ways. Her speech seemed a little stilted, and I noticed an odd hitch in her gait as she walked away, but not knowing the lady well, I ignored it. I never saw her again.

Several uneventful days passed before I was once again the unwilling spectator to ghastly events on the rooftop across the street. Three trips were made with the wheelchair and three more of my neighbors rode the chute to oblivion. This time I decided to investigate first before calling the police. Target shooting has always been a hobby of mine, which is why I own a 9mm Berretta semi-automatic pistol. Feeling a little foolish strapping it on, I kept reminding myself that whatever these things might be; they were dangerous and I needed to protect myself.

The gate through the perimeter fence was unlocked, so I let myself in. The air had a faint odor of putrefied flesh and the light was dim but adequate. Proceeding cautiously, my senses on full alert, I entered a stairway leading to the second floor. Approximately halfway to the top, something the size of a large dog descended onto the steps just below me, brandishing a club in each claw. Without hesitation, I withdrew my weapon and placed two rounds directly into its emoji head. A voice from the landing above cut through the echo of the shots.

“It’s regrettable that you did that. There are so few of us left on the planet that even the loss of one is a tragedy.”

“What did you think I was going to do, let him club me to death?”

“Unfortunately, Human, we don’t possess the physical strength to do you much harm. Our strengths are in other areas, primarily telekinetic and shape-shifting. I see you’ve just realized I’m speaking to you directly into your mind. If you don’t like my “emoji head” maybe you’d prefer this face.”

The creature’s head turned cloudy, then the face of a neighbor appeared.

“We have been on earth since the beginning, but as food sources have become extinct and new sources of nutrition harder to find, our numbers have dwindled. Our colony is all that’s left. Over the last fifty years, we’ve discovered that human limbs are compatible with our metabolism. We only need one more donor to fill our stores for the next 100 years. This task needs to be completed before the next hibernation period, which starts in a few days. We’ve chosen you.”

I bolted down the stairs, through the gate, and back to my home. In my mind, I kept hearing his words, “You are in control now, but as soon as you sleep, your mind is ours to command. You will return to us.”

This all occurred 48 hours ago. I haven’t slept since then. Its voice is constantly in my mind, begging, cajoling, commanding me to sleep, but I resist. It’s a battle of wills, and I shall prevail.