Everybody Wants To Rule The World 0

Prologue - The March of Pharaoh


The cold Friday night air penetrated the open windows of the cafe where John Moore sat with his coffee. He just survived a hellish week of reports and barks from his boss, and now he's rewarding himself with his favorite drink and three strawberry donuts.  Good thing there's a Dunkin' Donuts near the office, saves him time from travelling all the way to the mall just for these delectable treats. The place is half-full tonight, some are familiar faces who also worked in the same company as he did, while some are just irritating teenagers who fooled around with their cellphones and loud rap music.

John stroked his thinning gray hair while his right hand felt the folder which lay on the table in front of him. At 50 he didn't expect himself to be stuck in a cubicle while his peers climbed their way upwards to much greener pastures. He knew that he should have finished his college education instead of hitting weed and whores. Now not only he's struggling on his cubicle, he's also struggling to recover from his addiction. His wife left him, his kids refuse to accept him as their father; he's a wreck, and there's no indication on when his life will stop sinking.

After this he will go back home, kick off his shoes, toss his clothes off and sit in front of the TV with a beer in hand. Tomorrow's a Saturday, meaning rest day, meaning more time for himself, meaning no tantrums from the boss or stacks of paper. He considered getting a prostitute for tonight, since whores in this place are damn cheap. Hell they'll even blow you for a bag of freshly-caught fish. That's how desperate they are in this place.

The whirring sound of helicopter blades interrupted John's mental planning. For five days straight those helicopters flew by at the exact time of 11:00 PM. Four to six of them metal birds, painted full black, just passing around as if the people piloting them have a night-time flight exercise. The sounds became louder, indicating that the choppers have landed somewhere nearby. Then the engines stopped. Silence.

Loud footsteps were heard, metal clanking against asphalt. Vehicles passed by, pedestrians walked, then another loud metallic sound. The sound of a hammer striking a metal object to be precise.

The helicopters again whirred to life and began to fly away from the place. John found the noise absolutely irritating, making him whisper Fuck this. He hoped that the commotion is over since he needs more silence in his contemplation on whether to get two more prostitutes for tonight. He just bought a bottle of viagra the other day so there's ammunition for tonight's action.

Suddenly a loud siren-like wail ripped through the silence of the night, making John swear as he stood up in frustration. The other customers were a bit surprised at his sudden outburst while some of them went out of the cafe to check out the source of the noise. The wail resembled the sound of an air-raid warning,  absolutely loud and irritating. After ten seconds the siren stopped, the customers who went outside promptly returned to their tables as if nothing happened.

God, finally!

John sat on his chair and sipped the hot coffee. He was about to take a bite of the donut when suddenly the coffee spilled onto his pants. The hot water made him swear at the top of his lungs as it penetrated his pants and pinched his groin. He looked around to find the perpetrator and saw one of the teenagers standing behind him. The wide-eyed kid said nothing, he just stared at John.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" John locked eyes with the kid, the veins on his neck bulged as his rage reached its boiling point.

"Sorry sir, I didn't noti---"

"DIDN'T WHAT?! YOU BLIND OR SOMETHING, KID? YOUR GODDAMN EYES BETTER WATCH THERE THEY'RE GOING!"

His rage is interrupted by the sound of gunshots which erupted outside. Repeated gunshots as if fired by an automatic rifle. John and the customers rushed out of the cafe to see for themselves what is happening.


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Armand Kane woke up to the noise of his chirping cellphone. His hands fumbled for the device which is resting underneath his pillow. Three messages received.

Who would text me at this ungodly hour? Armand thought to himself as he waited for the messages to open. At 3:30 A.M. it is indeed not a good thing to be awoken when you're in the middle of a good slumber.

The messages came from his best-friend, Paul Pangborn. Two of them were double sent, saying something about an e-mail in Armand's inbox. The third one reminded Armand of his meeting with Paul at 8 A.M.

He's too tired to get up and check the e-mail. Armand thought that this can wait in the morning. That jerk must've sent him another batch of compressed porno.

Or it must be an update. An update. Something Armand's looking forward to since last week. But still he's too lazy to get up.

He buried his phone under the pillow and went back to sleep. These things can wait.

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John found himself lying on the ground, his clothes were torn off and his face pulsed with pain. He felt the streak of blood rush down his cheeks, his legs felt numb. He tried to stand up but a shockwave of pain emanating from his spine threw him back to his original position.

The sky seemed to look crimson while pillars of thick black smoke rose from the nearby houses. He turned to his left and saw the Dunkin' Donuts completely obliterated, corpses littered the streets and the ruins of the other nearby buildings. His nostrils were invaded by the scent of charred flesh, his head tried to make sense of what just happened here.

The last thing he remembered is that he and the other Dunkin' Donuts customers rushed out to see why there were gunshots fired. Suddenly the world became black, a sharp jolt of pain smacked the back of his head, then now he's on the ground and the place looks like hell.

He heard footsteps drawing closer, then the sound of what seems to be military-issue walkie-talkies. He feigned unconsciousness as he heard the sound draw closer.

*Static* "Look at this," a male voice said.

Another man whistled then said, "Yeah."

Silence, then the walkie-talkie again buzzed, then silence again.

Then another male voice, "Understood. Clearing out."

John opened his eyes into narrow slits and tried to see who they are. He saw only thin air.

What the?!

Then a sharp pain penetrated his cranium, quickly ending his miserable life.