text: [Themes: fantasy]
  
  One more day. After a millennium of meticulous planning, his plot was finally bearing fruit. Penthos looked out at the peaceful citizens roaming around the city, smiling. He couldn't wait to bring them to tears. He couldn't wait to see those smiles reduced to agonizing tears of grief, pain, and sadness. Oh, he could barely wait another day. The last thousand years almost felt shorter than the day before him.
  
  Penthos, being the daimon of grief, had always longed for more lamentation in the world. In a few hours, he would make his wish come true. But he couldn't do it alone. There cannot be grief without other elements. Penthos needed the help of discord, misery, doom, violence, fear, and death. He smiled at the thought of it all, then shut his eyes, dreaming of a happy tomorrow. For today was the final day of peace before he rained terror upon humanity.
  
  [Author's Note: Penthos, the Greek daimon of grief, begins destroying Seattle, forcing people to feel more grief than ever. There are three true endings, each clearly labeled 'epilogue.' This is my entry for the 2017 Chaos contest. Warning: rated 7/8 for a reason. It's about the apocalypse, so naturally, there is gore. Not excessively detailed gore, but it is still present.]
  
  > The end of the world
  Wilson sat on the couch in his cozy studio apartment, watching reruns of Man Vs Bears With Water Balloons. His right hand hovered inches from his mouth, grasping chopsticks carrying a piece of gas station sushi. He was truly living the life. Sometimes he wondered if there was more to life than being a lonely bachelor with three day old bed head, but thinking about it just depressed him.
  
  He stuck the sushi in his mouth, marveling at how bad sushi could taste if it was cheap enough. Wilson then wiped his mouth with a napkin and checked his phone for the sixteenth time in three minutes. Yup, still no messages. He sighed, wondering why none of his friends were messaging him back. "It's not like it's my 23rd birthday or anything." he grumbled, then turned his attention back to the tv.
  
  To Wilson's amusement, the man in the bear costume had gained the upper hand and began throwing water balloons at his opponent with impressive speed. Without warning, the screen went black and a loud foghorn-like sound played. Then, a popular local news anchorman appeared. The look on his face was one of pure horror.
  
  "This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. I-I-I don't know what's going on but," he took a long pause, "this is not a drill." It seemed he really didn't know what else to say.
  
  A woman walked into view, her face pulled into one of determination. She spoke, "There have been reports flying in about winged women violently killing people and feasting on their corpses. Wars have broken out in the streets. Civilians are going on murderous rampages. The death toll is uncountable, but we presume it to be over a hundred thousand. Though it is undoubtably much higher and growing by the minute. We are experiencing trouble connecting outside the city of Seattle, so we don't know how the rest of the world is responding or if they are experiencing similar circumstances. We will keep you posted as long as tv works and we stay alive. Until then, please stay indoors and don't open the door for anyone. Friends are killing friends out there. The whole city is a war zone."
  
  Wilson took another bite of sushi. "What kind of lame dystopian movie are they making now?"
  
  As he was chewing, an unrelenting knock rang through the apartment, nearly scaring him half to death. Nobody ever came to his door. Wilson stood up, stretched, and headed over to the door. The banging never stopped, even as he unlocked the door and opened it. Standing before him was a skinny blonde.
  
  "Oh...Mariah." He said disappointedly as he looked at his little sister.
  
  "What kind of hello is that?!" She paused, "anyway, let us in, we're kind of desperate."
  
  "We...?" Wilson looked passed Mariah to see a tall, muscular black man.
  
  "Laszlo!" He exclaimed, excited to see his best friend.
  
  Laszlo and Wilson had been best friends since kindergarten and had been inseparable ever since. The friends were so close, everyone thought they were a gay couple. That is until a few weeks ago when he learned what Laszlo had been hiding from him for two years: Laszlo was dating Mariah, Wilson's little sister. He had been outraged by the news. Not only were his little sister and best friend in a serious relationship, but they had hid it from him for two years! Wilson opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Mariah shoved him into his apartment and walked in herself. Laszlo followed and shut the door behind him.
  
  "Why'd you shove me so hard? Geez..."
  
  Mariah snapped, "Look, Wilson. Why are you acting so casual? It's the damn apocalypse! Do you know what I had to go through just to get to your apartment?"
  
  "You live right next door... wait. Apocalypse?"
  
  Laszlo tagged in, "yeah, the world's gone to shit. Nobody really knows why or how, but-"
  
  Mariah cut in, "how did you not know about this? Do you have blackout curtains or somethi- oh wait, you actually do have all your windows covered in blackout curtains."
  
  Wilson hid his shame as best he could. Those curtains hadn't been opened in months. "Wait, what? Apocalypse?" He laughed.
  
  Mariah rolled her eyes then walked up to a blackout curtain, pulling it open. The light should've burned Wilson's eyes, but it was Seattle, so of course it was overcast. However, instead of the usual grey sky, this sky was red. Peering through the window, he could see over a hundred dead bodies strewn about on the street below.
  
  "What the-" he was too stunned to continue.
  
  Mariah sighed, obviously already adjusted to the fact that it was the end of the world. "Look, I have a plan-"
  
  Laszlo cut her off. "Wilson, can we please stay here? My apartment is across the block and," he glanced outside, "I wouldn't survive an instant out there. Mariah's studio had the lock broken. We don't know who, or why, or how..." Laszlo started breathing heavily and rocking back and forth.
  
  Mariah paid his nervous breakdown no heed. "We're not going to stay in here waiting to be picked off by whatever is happening. If we want to survive, we have to end this ourselves." She pointed out the window, "see that castle?"
  
  Sure enough, a giant stone castle stood on top of First Hill, visible from the apartment, but still miles away.
  
  Mariah continued, "that castle sprung up right when this all started. It has to be the secret to ending this. I say we all head over there and beat up whoever's responsible!" She made fists and climbed on top of a table.
  
  Laszlo yelled out from the couch, "that's suicide and I want no part in it!"
  
  "Well I'm going, whether you come along with me or not! I'm going to bring an end to the end of the world! Come on, Wilson."
  
  Wilson froze. He was still trying to comprehend the fact that he was in the middle of the apocalypse.
  
  Laszlo barked at Mariah, "yeah, okay, you go. Go and die! This is the apocalypse we're talking about. There's probably zombies and shit out there. Is that what you want? To be a walking corpse? I'm staying right here, where I'm safe."
  
  "More like staying right here where you'll be killed off within hours."
  
  "Well when I live and you die, come talk to me."
  
  "Fine!"
  
  Mariah turned to Wilson again, "are you coming or not?"
  
  > stay with Laszlo
  Wilson glanced out the window again at all the dismembered corpses on the ground below. There was no way he was going out there. He turned to Mariah, "I'm absolutely not going out there and neither are you."
  
  She rolled her eyes, "you want me to sit in this crappy apartment and get killed off by whatever is out there? No thank you. We're sitting ducks in here, at least out there we'd stand a chance."
  
  Laszlo turned to her, "look, I've said it once and I'll say it again: going out there is suicide."
  
  Wilson agreed, "Mariah, this is the apocalypse we're talking about. Rushing into things would just be..." he trailed off.
  
  She rolled her eyes, "if you two are done being so high and mighty, I'm going to go out there alone!"
  
  Wilson stood up, "absolutely not! I forbid it! You'll get yourself killed!"
  
  Mariah huffed, "well I guess I have no choice, I'll have to go alone. Don't even THINK about stopping me!"
  
  She stormed out the door, slamming it behind her. Wilson started to go after her, but Laszlo grabbed his arm, giving him a look that told Wilson going after her was pointless. Deep down, he knew that he never could control Mariah, she's a force of nature when she has her eyes set on something.
  
  "Maybe we should go after her," started Wilson, terrified for his little sister.
  
  "You said it yourself: that's asking for death. I ain't goin' out there."
  
  Wilson agreed, following Mariah would surely only be met by death. The old friends sat in stunned silence for a while, stressing about Mariah. Laszlo ran his fingers through his kinky hair, "do you think she's okay?"
  
  Wilson stayed silent, not daring to say what he knew in his heart to be true: there was no doubt that she was dead. His heart beat against his ribcage with crying fury as he tried to think about how she could be alive after all.
  
  Suddenly, someone rattled at the door that Mariah had been cautious enough to lock behind her. The rattling stopped, then was followed by a knock. Wilson's heart froze. It was the signature knock that he and Mariah always used to signal each other as children. He jumped up, "It's Mariah!" He ran to the door, so happy that she had decided to turn around. He leapt with joy as he unlocked the door, opened it, and-
  
  Sure enough it was Mariah, but she obviously wasn't the one who knocked at the door. She laid haplessly on the now bloodstained welcome mat. Her blue eyes stared back at him from the other side of the hall. With horror, Wilson realized Mariah's head was no longer connected to her body. He screamed as the pool of blood seeped into the carpet in his apartment and he screamed as Laszlo fainted in horror.
  
  Minutes later, both Wilson and Laszlo sat on the couch, eyes staring straight ahead and backs to the doorway, to the horror. They didn't even notice as someone entered the room and surveyed the damages. They barely heard him speak, "do you feel it yet?"
  
  Neither Wilson nor Laszlo answered. The male voice spoke again, "do you fucking feel the grief yet?"
  
  Laszlo slowly turned around, wide dark eyes unable to comprehend what was going on. The mysterious man was graying and was dressed in black, flowing fabric. The man smiled creepily, "you're in denial, aren't you? How'd you like me to help you out with that?"
  
  Wilson questioned slowly, "wh-who...are you..?"
  
  "Who am I? I'm the most universal and personal feeling in the world. I show up when a loved one dies or when you're terminally ill. I'm there every time you lose someone or something you value. I am Penthos, the daemon of grief. Let's get started shall we, assholes?" he mused a moment, "let's go outside."
  
  Penthos snapped his fingers and with that, the three of them appeared outside. He turned to Laszlo, "I can easily see you're in denial about the death of your lover. Let's magnify that to a level more suitable for the apocalypse."
  
  The next moment, Laszlo was holding a shield on his left arm. He looked down at the elaborately designed, 40 inch long shield. He thanked his past self for working out so much as he held up the shield that was way too heavy for its size. A leather strap connected his to the hunk of metal that felt well over 20 pounds.
  
  "Huh?" Laszlo questioned, more confused than ever.
  
  Penthos smiled sadly, "by being in denial, you're shielding yourself." Without so much as a goodbye, Penthos snapped his fingers and disappeared.
  
  Laszlo held his shield, gripping and ungripping his hand on the leather strap.
  
  Wilson turned to his friend, "just put that down, don't let...whatever's happening confuse you even more. Mariah...I just can't believe she's gone."
  
  Laszlo's face went completely blank, "gone? She's not gone."
  
  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a second identical shield appeared on his right arm. Rather than showing fear, his face showed no emotion. No anger, sadness, confusion, just completely and utterly blank. Wilson watched him with terror in his eyes, not knowing what to say or do. Then, Laszlo turned on his heel and walked away, towards downtown Seattle. As he turned, another identical shield attached itself to his left leg. Without warning, he took a brisk pace, walking at a speed Wilson could only reach by running.
  
  Wilson though a moment about childhood memories of Laszlo rescuing him from schoolyard bullies. Then he looked around at the corpses sprawled out on the ground around him, then glanced at the blood red light. He had two choices: follow Laszlo into the heart of the apocalypse to try to save him or let him be and try to hide.
  
  > let Laszlo be
  "Yeah, right," Wilson thought to himself, "I'm just going to run TOWARDS all the dead bodies. AS IF!"
  
  He took one last look at Laszlo stomping away, then turned around to go back to his apartment, but stopped himself once he got to the door of the building. He knew he couldn't handle what was awaiting him in there. For Wilson, seeing Mariah's corpse again was worse than dying in the apocalypse. He sighed as he started to walk, trying to find the nearest building that wasn't completely destroyed. The corner store next to his apartment building was just random bits of rubble. Wilson faintly wondered how he hadn't heard the sounds of the apocalypse, then remembered how much he pays for sound proof walls. After being forced to listen to his old neighbors almost every night, he was willing to pay whatever it took.
  
  Wilson walked on, trying to find someplace to hide and cry in terror. He walked around the block, shocked at the fact that his apartment building had survived. He thought to himself, "must be protagonists luck." He continued wandering on, considering biting the bullet and going back to his apartment building and just hiding out in a different studio.
  
  Before he knew it, he was at the local Starbucks, the only building within site still completely intact. It was one of those large coffee shops with plenty of tables and chairs. He snubbed up his nose, "HA! Makes sense that not even the apocalypse touches this building! Any true Seattleite would never stoop so low as to go to," he spat out the name, "Starbucks."
  
  Despite his inner coffee critic, he entered the building with a skip in his step, believing that he'd survive if he hid there. Once inside, he realized his grave error. Inside the building, all the tables and chairs were pushed aside, leaving a large central area. There were five people that appeared to be fighting and upon looking down, Wilson noted that there were three others on the ground, unmoving and bleeding profusely. For a moment, he his terror take hold of him, but then, another feeling seemed to creep in. He suddenly had the strongest urge in his life to fight, maim, and kill everyone in that building.
  
  > resist urge to fight
  Wilson knew he couldn't fight random strangers in a Starbucks. The feeling of bloodlust kept trying to take him, but each time, he would force it to go away, thinking happy thoughts about his childhood. Finally, he managed to completely block out the need to fight altogether.
  
  He almost smiled, feeling victorious, then turned away from the fighting. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his back and lurched forward, "AAAUUGGGHH," he cried out as he looked behind him and saw a young woman with fiery eyes. Wilson fell to his hands and knees, breathing hard. He felt another sharp pain as whatever object that entered his back was then taken out. A knife painted red with blood entered his field of vision, then quickly disappeared. Moments later, everything went black....