This time Mark De Luca would do the right thing. Or at least that’s what he was expecting. 

The Crystal Lake, which was named after the town he passed last, was near the cabin, but closer was a stream. That would be the place Mark would shoot his video. He took everything from the trunk of his old Suzuki Steem and went to the cabin. 

The stench of mold was nauseating. No one had come to the cabin in ages. For a moment he had thought about sleeping there for the night, not anymore. He put his things on the ground, checked everything in the cooler and the bag, and went back to the door.

“Better get done with it while the light is good.” He muttered to himself and kept walking, cooler in one hand, and the bag on his shoulders.

When Mark reached the brook he looked for a good spot and tested his phone on the tripod near the running waters, after not so much time he had a perfect position.

He lit the wood, took another look at the camera angle, and started setting up the ingredients. Emilia would probably tear him apart for not saying he was beginning the mise en place.

Mark had everything he needed. Potatoes, two beautiful Sirloin stakes, butter, canola oil, garlic, salt, black pepper, paprika, thyme, and rosemary. All the food was in his old cooler. 

He had his pan to make the steak and his pot to fry the potatoes. His knife, forks, skimmer, and plates were also there, wrapped in newspapers and some old cloth he had found. 

The other utensils he needed were in his bag: a ring light, a charger for his phone, a tripod, a small cutting board, oak wood, and the fire starter.

If it doesn’t work out, at least I’ll eat well.

Upon reflection, he didn’t consider his idea the most genius one, but he had to take a shot. He knew he had to eat his crows, but he also knew he was a damn good cook, and he was not a layperson when technology was the matter.

 Mark was quite good at editing videos and photos, so he would lose nothing trying to farm some bucks on TikTok, or any other short video platform. Mark De Luca was optimistic, he would not let his doubts make him fall back. 

He was going to try to make some money. If it didn’t work out, he would stick with his job. He had survived worse; he would survive working under a five feet tall blond with anger issues. 

Mark just had to keep his calm and wait for his chance, soon enough he would be Station Chef. And in the end, he would become the Sous Chef, above Emilia and everyone else, except Chef Xavier, of course.

Soon the bonfire was lit, and when the flame was high enough he put the pot with the oil to heat. He would begin his video by cutting the potatoes and frying them, when he edited it that part would become the last, but he needed the time efficiency. 

He cut four potatoes into six parts, making large pieces that would take a while to cook and fry, probably the time he would finish prepping his steak. He had one extra in case something wrong happened to the first one.

He seasoned the meat and waited for the potatoes to fry. When it was finished he removed them and seasoned them with paprika and salt, his mouth was completely wet when he finished. He decided to not taste it, afraid of some error of continuity. He then proceeded to fry his stake.

A small quantity of butter was added to the pan and he allowed it to heat without it becoming brown. He placed the steak on the pan and the smell was intoxicating, this time in a good way. 

Three minutes after, he flipped the stake, seared it for one minute or so, and threw a lot of butter, one sprig of rosemary, and one of thyme, to finish up he also put a clove of garlic and proceeded to bath the steak on the flavored butter.

It was a simple meal, but it was a beautiful one. He had a good angle, a good place to shoot, and a steak that looked just like the wilderness he was now. He would definitely watch this video if it appeared on his screen. He had now one question in his mind. 

Would he appear eating at the end of the video or not? He was divided in that matter, for one he wanted to be a famous chef at some point in his life, but in a traditional way. The owner of a good restaurant. Being a TikTok star with a face attached to it was not his ideal plan, but it could help.

A tremendous, but fast noise appeared in the distance, Mark still wondered about his plans when the loud buzz came from nowhere, stopped, and started again. Being completely gone in less than five seconds. 

The noise came from the direction of the city of Crystal Lake and when Mark looked to the sky he saw hundreds of small dots, like balloons released on an Independence Day party, but these were going down and not up.

Mark could see one coming in his direction, he placed the steak and the potatoes beside the bonfire and kept watching the object’s trajectory. Maybe it’s better to run. He thought and started walking towards the cabin. 

Just as he turned his back, he felt a sharp crack on the back of his head. His vision was attacked by an immense light and then complete darkness.

-

Pain filled his head when he woke up, his face on the ground, his hands reaching out to his head searching for blood, but finding nothing. With immense difficulty he sat and adjusted his vision, eyes widening and closing as fast as he could. 

In front of him was the bonfire and the stake with the fries and above them was a little ball of metal, floating in the air. The ball had one antenna and two circles on its face, which resembled eyes, they were changing colors constantly between red, yellow, and orange.

I’m probably crazy.

As if reading his thoughts, a sound was emitted from the thing Mark was inclined to think was a robot.

“Oh! You’re awake! That’s fantastic! You lost your introductions when I arrived at your perimeter, but I can give them to you again.” The machine had a robot voice, similar to the ones humanity had created for A.I., but more articulated and with a childish tone. 

“Oh, but before I give you the apocalypse instructions… I have to say… That looks beautiful, beautiful… I can bet this is delicious, human! Oh, how I wish I could savor this beautiful meat… oh I can see the juice…” Mark could hear the desire in the voice of the robot and his mind could not take it.

“What the hell?!” Mark half asked half shouted. He was probably crazy or dead. The robot turned in Mark’s direction and flew slowly to him.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. My name is Totvs, and I’ll be your companion in the apocalypse. Let’s start?” The robot said with a high-pitched, excited voice, and its “eyes” blinked blue.

The machine was about to continue its speech when a sound came from the forest, resembling a cackle, but louder and deeper. 

Mark could hear fast footsteps breaking the leaves and twigs on the forest’s ground. The thing was coming in their direction.

The beast emerged from the forest not long ago after he first heard it. It was the stupidest and scariest thing he had ever seen. 

It was a chicken. A big one. The size of an Ostrich, maybe bigger. The creature had a metal helmet with a red lens in the place of its eyes and half of its feathers were of metal, and the other half were of various colors. 

He was facing a metal rainbow chicken.

The creature looked as if born from a child’s imagination, but her brilliant and sharp beak and claws were terrifying enough to surpass any funny thoughts he could have.

He was not going to test if he was crazy or not. He ran in the bonfire’s direction and took his pan in one hand and the knife in the other. The flying robot followed him and the enormous chicken too.