Apocalypse Rebirth: Reclaiming My Infinite Space

Ellery's eyes snapped open.

She sucked in a violent, ragged breath, her upper body launching off the mattress. Her hands flew to her throat, her fingers digging frantically into the flesh. She expected to feel the jagged, torn edges of her own windpipe. She expected the hot, thick spray of her own blood. She could still feel the phantom teeth of the mutated creature sinking into her cartilage, tearing her life away in the freezing snow.

But her skin was smooth. Intact. Warm.

Her chest heaved. She dragged her trembling hands down her neck, over her collarbones, feeling the steady, rapid thumping of her own heart.

She blinked through the dim light. The peeling wallpaper. The water stain shaped like a skull on the ceiling. The cheap, rattling window unit. This was her crappy studio apartment in downtown Seattle.

She scrambled to the edge of the bed. Her bare feet hit the freezing hardwood floor. Her legs gave out instantly, but she caught herself on the edge of the nightstand, dragging her body toward the tiny bathroom.

She slammed her palms against the edges of the porcelain sink. She stared into the mirror.

The face looking back at her was young. Her cheeks were full. The horrific, purple frostbite scars that had webbed across her jawline in her past life were completely gone.

She grabbed the faucet handle and cranked it to the left. Freezing tap water gushed out. She cupped her hands, splashing the icy water violently against her face. She did it again. And again. The biting cold stung her cheeks, shocking her nervous system.

This wasn't a dying hallucination. The cold was too real.

Her breathing began to slow. The frantic pounding in her ears faded into a dull roar.

She spun around and lunged for the nightstand. She snatched her smartphone off the charging cable. The screen illuminated her pale face.

November 12th.

Exactly three days before the global deep freeze would hit. Three days before the apocalypse.

Her knees finally buckled. She slid down the side of the mattress, hitting the floor hard. A sound ripped from her throat-a choked gasp that twisted into a low, terrifying laugh.

She was back.

The memory of her final moments flashed behind her eyes. The heavy steel door of the underground bunker slamming shut. The smug, disgustingly satisfied faces of the Burch family looking at her through the reinforced glass as they kicked her out into the negative-fifty-degree wasteland. They had drained her bank accounts, used her blood for transfusions, and then threw her to the monsters when she was no longer useful.

Her laugh died. Pure, unadulterated hatred flooded her veins, making her fingertips go numb.

She spent a full minute digging her nails into her palms, forcing the all-consuming, violent urge to kill back down into the depths of her mind. Revenge wasn't a momentary impulse; it was a precise, calculated execution. She took a slow, deep breath, forcing her facial muscles to relax. She unclenched her jaw. She had to play the part.

Suddenly, the phone in her palm vibrated violently. The default ringtone shattered the silence of the apartment.

Ellery stared at the screen.

Sharon Burch - Mom.

A wave of nausea hit Ellery's stomach. Her knuckles turned stark white as she gripped the phone. She wanted to smash it against the wall. She wanted to drive to their house and burn it to the ground.

She pressed the green accept button and brought the phone to her ear.

"Ellery?"

Sharon's voice came through the speaker, accompanied by a pathetic, exaggerated wheeze.

"Mom? What's wrong?" Ellery asked, injecting a sickening amount of panic into her tone.

"It's my gallbladder, sweetie," Sharon groaned, her voice trembling with fake agony. "The stones... they're blocking the duct. The doctor says I need emergency surgery today. But the insurance... they're refusing to cover the out-of-pocket deductible. It's thirty thousand dollars, Ellery. They won't even prep me for the OR without it."

Ellery's stomach churned. The memories overlapped perfectly. In her past life, she had panicked. She had emptied her life savings-every single penny she had scraped together from working sixty-hour weeks-to save the woman who had adopted her.

She knew exactly where that thirty thousand dollars had gone. It bought her sister, Kendal, a limited-edition designer handbag, and her brother, Cody, a down payment on a used sports car.

Ellery swallowed the bile in her throat.

"Oh my god, Mom. That's terrible," Ellery said, her voice dripping with fake concern.

As she spoke, she pulled the phone away from her ear for a fraction of a second. Her thumb swiped down on the screen, tapping the background call-recording app. A tiny red dot appeared at the top of her screen.

"Which hospital are you at?" Ellery demanded, her voice rising in urgency. "I'm calling out of work right now. I'll drive straight there. I can stay with you in the pre-op room."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. Sharon stammered, the fake wheezing momentarily forgotten.

"No! No, honey, you can't," Sharon rushed out. "The... the pre-op area is strictly no-visitors. COVID protocols, you know? They won't let you past the lobby."

Ellery stayed completely silent. She let the dead air stretch. She let the awkwardness and guilt fester on the other end of the line.

"Ellery, please," Sharon's voice shifted, the tone turning sharp, laced with emotional blackmail. "We took you in when you had nothing. We gave you a home when you were just a piece of trash left at the orphanage. I'm in agony here. Are you really going to let me suffer?"

The corner of Ellery's mouth twitched upward into a cold, terrifying smirk.

"Of course not, Mom," Ellery said softly into the microphone. "I'll wire the money right now. Just text me the account details."

"Oh, thank god," Sharon breathed out.

She didn't even say thank you. The line went dead instantly.

Ellery lowered the phone. Her eyes were as cold as the arctic ice that would soon cover the city.

She opened her mobile banking app. The screen loaded, displaying her hard-earned savings. Thirty thousand, two hundred and twelve dollars.

She stared at the numbers. She wasn't going to give them a single dime. Instead, she was going to use this exact lie to drain every last drop of blood from the Burch family before the world ended.