Mnh..."
Jeremy doesn't open his eyes until late afternoon the next day. His body aches everywhere like he's been beaten to a pulp. His throat is so cracked it feels like he's got salt on it.
"..."
He looks down at his body for a moment and lets out a small sigh. There are crimson handprints all over his body—his chest, his wrists, everywhere. Jeremy has never thought of himself as fragile, but he sure is nothing compared to that monster.
'This is real...it's real.'
A tingling sensation creeps up from his gaping assh0le. Last night is as clear as a sunny day. It was indeed not a dream. Jeremy suddenly feels a flicker of fire. Everything around him is too familiar.
Right now, he is laying on the bed in his house's master bedroom.
Thankfully, the jackal isn't here. However, instead of relief, a sense of loneliness soon washes over him. Jeremy is now alone in this large bed. The space he had shared with Max is now empty. The realization that he'd fallen asleep alone makes him feel uncomfortable.
Jeremy drags the covers over himself and curls his big body into a ball.
"..."
Would it have been less painful if this isn't Nawatuwa? He doesn't want to believe it. Jeremy is afraid to go out the door. He doesn't dare to face the deserted beaches and streets again.
"...I'm hungry."
But despite his despair, Jeremy is starting to feel hungry. Dawning on him that he is alive, Jeremy stretches out of bed.
"Ugh..."
His legs are shaky, but thankfully, walking doesn't sting his chest. The wetness that had filled him felt like it had been squeezed out of him last night, and he isn't sure if he should love it or hate it.
Jeremy pulls on his clothes. He needs to cover himself because the barcode tattoo below his navel is unsightly.
"...Hmm."
At least he feels a little better in his everyday clothes. It may not be perfect, but it makes him feel a little bit like he's back to his old self.
Feeling awkward in his clothes, but figuring he'd get used to it, Jeremy moves on to the living room. It is also empty, eerily silent with not a bird in sight.
Jeremy opens the refrigerator door and is greeted by his old food. Luckily, all stays the same. Leftover milk, vegetables, and the meat he had saved for some big feast. There are even a few unopened cans of beer.
At the thought of the coolness of a beer, Jeremy is tempted to drink, but then reminded that reaching for a drink first thing in the morning is a fool's man doing, so he grabs a carton of milk instead.
As he pours cereal and milk into the bowl, Jeremy's mind raced. It's past morning now, yet he doesn't have to go to work like he used to. He's got food, so he does not need to worry about hunger, but...Jeremy is not sure what to do now. Alone on an empty island.
Is there really no one here?
Probably not. Right, no one. Jeremy slurps his cereal and sighs sadly.
As much as he wants to yell out loud to the damn jackal, he knows that he better just shut up than risking his life by calling him out. Jeremy is actually very scared of the monster. With his beast's head, staring at Jeremy with yellow eyes and speaking in an authoritative tone sends a shiver down his spine.
"Max..."
His small voice hovers miserably in the air. The call goes unanswered.
Jeremy begins to shovel more cereal into his mouth, feeling the tip of his nose twitch involuntarily. He hates this infernal silence. He is miserable, feeling truly abandoned.
"..."
The depressed middle-aged man gets up from his seat, goes to the sink, and fills his empty bowl with water. He wonders what he should do now, should he go outside and look for signs of life? Whatever that might be.
A whisper in the back of his mind tells him that that's only going to be a waste of time, but he doesn't want to give up. Maybe...just maybe...if he looks around just hard enough, he may find a small animal, if not a human...
"Yeah, it's not always telling the truth anyway."
Jeremy mutters to himself. And perhaps the evil black creature could have been trying to trick him.
So, with his mind made up, Jeremy leaves the house. The afternoon sun is hot but dry enough that a cool breeze tickles his cheeks as he stands in the shade.
"Ugh..."
Jeremy is irritated, so out of character for him. Suddenly feeling that this beautiful natural world is mocking him.
Everything in front of Jeremy is whispering that he is now standing in Nawatuwa, yet he is annoyed. He misses the real Nawatuwa.
Jeremy Rogers starts walking along the road with a deep sense of nostalgia.
"..."
The leaves of the large palm trees rustle in the breeze, as do the shorter bushes that grow beneath them. Pausing to look at the trees and grass, Jeremy bends down and plucks a wild little flower. The pop, the crackle, the faint smell of grass, are all real.
"...That's weird."
Isn't a plant also a living being? Ha! The damn jackal must be lying about not being able to create a life. There are grass and trees everywhere, and in the distance, mountains are covered in vegetation.
Yet still, there is not a single ant on these plants. Knowing that without insects, there could be no plants, Jeremy hesitates and continues his walking. He doesn't know the law of nature here.
"..."
Jeremy has barely gotten far enough when then, he realizes that his shadow slowly lengthens.
Jeremy scans the horizon with a bitter face. At this time of day, the beach is supposed to be crowded with surfers and sunset watchers. Now, there is nothing but a large expanse of sand, deserted.
'Will I go into heat again tonight?'
A disturbing thought suddenly flashes through Jeremy's mind. He shakes his head to clear his mind of the ominous thoughts, then he spots a familiar convenience store. That is where he used to always bought his beer.
Ding-ding—
The store is deserted, too. The lights are on and everything is in its place, except that there isn't a soul in sight.
Jeremy glances around the store and lets out a small sigh. Forget about the restaurant, at least he'd put his mind at rest about what to eat.
"...Damn."
He walks out of the store with a can of beer in his hand. His hopes of finding the owner of the convenience store have been dashed. Jeremy walks down to the beach in despair and flops his plump ass down on the sand. In silence, the gentle lapping of the waves assaults his ears.
A click.
Jeremy opens the can of beer and raises it to his mouth, the distinctive aroma tickling his nose. And with a pitiful expression, the middle-aged man downs half the can in one gulp. He doesn't want to think about anything.
"Ha..."
By now, the sun is half hidden by the horizon. As dusk slowly descends, the wind grows colder and colder, and finally, it's here again—the numbing sensation that once again, begins to creep into Jeremy's lower abdomen.
"..."
He doesn't have the energy to fight the disgusting feeling. So Jeremy strokes his hand over his shirt and bites his lip. He is terrified that if he gives in to his urges here and now, the monster will show up again. Jeremy may as well just die, rather than have a dirty copulation in an open public space like yesterday.
Swoosh—