The Thirteenth Hour

He approached the temple slowly; as it was the only speed he was able to muster. All of his appendages trembled and ached in pain, as the pains of these last few days were too much on his small, plump frame. He had been through hell and back, and he had the scorch marks to prove it. He looked behind him at the only friend he had ever known. With eyes that had carried the weight of a thousand sorrows, he gave a slight smile, knowing that what he was about to do must be done.

For years, he had shown nothing but abuse, apathy, and neglect for his friends. The pain he had caused them gave him not one single drop of conviction inside; he chased the feelings of superiority up until the end. The sensation of power and the administration of pain and hardship onto others were the only things that could bring feeling into his aged, jaded soul. He was a god and he knew it. He was the master and he lavished in it. But now, at the end of his days, at the thirteenth hour when all hope was lost, it was only now that decades of guilt and shame crept into his body like a virus. Looking back at the bottom of the hill where his friend now stood, tidal waves of sorrow and regret crashed into his body, wracking his chest with a weight he had never quite felt before. At least now, he could finally make it up to him. At least now, he could show his friend one final act of kindness.

The deity had come into this world with no explanation. Ravaging the earth with apocalyptic fury, halting the creature was impossible. Prayer was the only answer to a question that was not fully understood: why was this unholy creature here? What was his purpose? After 40 days and 40 nights of reigning terror over the fields of the earth, leaving cities to dust and dooming entire civilizations without losing a single breath, the deity made its request. Time and space were not strong enough to contain the beast, and yet it found comfort in time loops. To spend an eternity within the same day, to repeat life over again a million times over was the only solace that came to the unholy entity. A sacrifice; that is what it needed. A companion to live in this eternal loop with; with that, the deity would be pleased, and humanity could be spared at the edge of extinction. But who would make such a noble sacrifice? A demon with unnatural strength and evil coursing through its veins needed an eternal sacrifice. No man could exhibit so much bravery as that. For days, the creature laid down in the great hall of the temple, waiting for its forever companion. It was patient, but that patience was beginning to grow thin.

But this was what he had to do. He knew that after decades of abuse and wrongdoings, he must be the one to lay down his life as a sacrifice. He turned his back to his friend; he could not dare to look at him any longer, the pain in his heart was too mighty to bear. He walked further up the hill, his time had come. He could feel the stench of the beast; he could smell the putrid odor of the deity before he could even see it. He knew he was close, he knew that the end was closer now than it had ever been. How did he feel this calm? Perhaps it was because he knew that this act of nobility might finally pay for his endless sins? He knew the beast wanted a companion, but why did it have to be an endless Monday? Why that day over any other? It did not matter; he would suffer ten thousand Mondays to cover over the sins that he had committed.

He reached the edge of the temple of the beast. Soon the unholy creature would overtake him, and deliver him into damnation. He deserved it. He deserved nothing else. An eternal Monday. Eternal suffering. As the deliverer of death approached him, its arms wide open to enclose him in an everlasting embrace, thus saving the human race, Garfield the cat looked down at his chubby feet, and as a single tear rolled down his cheek, a quiet whisper escaped his lips. “I’m sorry, Jon” was his final cry before he was enveloped in darkness.