Kimmy Hell, Chapter 2

Kimmy Hell – An

Apocalypse

By Mzyra

Young, single and doomed

Chapter 2

“Kiiiimmmyyy… Kiiiimmmyyy…?”

Kimmy frowned and tried to ignore the voice in her head.

“Oi, you - up!”

“Get lost… How are you even in my head?” Kimmy wondered whether you could get a restraining order on your creator-person.

“Because I can and it’s a universal fact that you need direction. So get up; you have work to do.”

“And what if I just choose to lie here forever instead?”

“You’ll freeze to death: it’s permanent Winter.”

“Ugh.” And then Kimmy thought about that for a second. “So… Hell’s frozen over?”

“Yes. Enjoy that joke: you won’t find the reality funny.”

“So how do I not freeze to death?”

“Observe your house to your right.”

“That’s supposed to be a house? It looks ridiculous!”

“You don’t want your stuff out on the ground here, hence the stilts. Also, your house can’t be any longer or wider than that.”

“Why not?”

“Because somebody else said so.”

Kimmy rolled her eyes and went to look inside – maybe it would be better in there.

Nope. A battered fridge, a counter, a toilet, a sink, a bed, a chess set, a bookcase, a phone and the barbecue outside. It was rather depressing and made her want a grilled cheese sandwich, except stupid Mzyra had taken away her ability to even have those.

“This sucks.”

“Yup. Your mission, which you have no choice in accepting: get a job – in the Military – and reach the top of it without missing a single day of work, and before you get too old to have kids. Then you can move in and marry someone and have a kid to take over from where you leave off.”

“I hate you.”

“Thanks, that warms my heart. Be good – I’ll be watching you!”

That – rather creepy – exchange out of the way, Kimmy tested out her new – but apparently rubbish – bed and stopped to think about the situation.

She didn’t know where exactly Hell was, or how she could leave, and Mzyra probably wouldn’t let her if she tried. All she’d seen was miles of desert, and in permanent Winter she would probably freeze to death before she got anywhere. She guessed she had no option but to go along with it all until an opportunity turned up. And heck, she was Kimmy Ryman, she could do anything…

Having discovered that the phone didn’t even work, Kimmy lowered herself to actually greeting the paperboy. She supposed he could be useful, and he did bring the only way to get jobs, so scaring him into never returning probably wouldn’t be the best move anyway.

Not that he didn’t prove to be every bit as annoying as she’d expected.

“Wait, you mean you actually cook those sandwiches to make them? But wouldn’t they just get charred to a crisp on the barbecue?”

“No, you fry them over the hob!”

He blinked at her. “…Hob?”

“On an oven!” He blinked at her again. “Arrrrrgh, forget it! Just know that they exist and they’re amazing!”

“Okay, whatever you say…”

He didn’t even believe her. Ugh, if she didn’t need those newspapers…

Apparently befriending the paper boy wouldn’t work – and honestly, why would she want it to? – but there were other people around. People with rather too much make-up. Seriously, this woman’s was like an inch thick.

“Oh, this snow’ll stop any day now, I’m sure, and then we’ll get flowers again.”

“Really? When did the snowing start?”

“Err, maybe a few years ago? Or more…?”

Maybe that was lead-based make-up making this woman delusional…

But at least there were even more people to talk to, who would hopefully be saner. Although one looked like a non-vampire version of her dead husband, which did him no favours at all. Still, jobs did require friends, even though she’d never needed them before…

But then there were also rather more interesting passers-by. Like somebody who looked like a blue version of Kimmy’s sister Marina, but with even less in the way of brains – she seemed to be fixed with a glazed but kind of happy look on her face.

Well Kimmy couldn’t pass that up.

And she actually quite liked brain-dead undead Marina more than actual Marina – who would have guessed?

And it was just as well she wasn’t interested in marrying the Christian lookalike, because apparently her two new ‘friends’ might already be occupied. Silly people and their relationships.

Kimmy’s new acquaintances weren’t so bad as far as people-she’d-been-forced-to-interact-with went, but she felt like maybe she needed someone with a brain to deal with instead. Like a cat!

Kimmy could respect cats – they looked after themselves and used who they could. It was a sensible way to live.

In fact it was a shame that Kimmy had gotten the impression she couldn’t move any living creatures in before she ‘lifted’ a career, or Moonshine could have kept her company.

Although at least living alone meant Kimmy didn’t have to share her food. Didn’t look like she’d be getting much of a varied diet – or any grilled cheese – with just a counter and a barbecue though. She wondered where all these hamburgers and hot dogs were coming from without any farms and animals around…*

(Except cats and dogs…. Mr Fluffers, nooooo!)

But with this level of boredom it was only a matter of time before Kimmy would go insane, she was certain. Although, as it turned out, paper aeroplanes were surprisingly fun.

And then there was nothing to do but sleep. In an uncomfortable bed. In a cold house. Apocalypses sucked.

The next day things didn’t look much brighter, but there was a new paper at least.

No sign of military – and Kimmy wasn’t sure why Mzyra thought so much of that, although being a general in charge of an army and stacks of weaponry sounded fun – but there was law enforcement, and that was close enough, right?

With work not starting until the evening, Kimmy resorted to greeting her ‘friend’ out of boredom when she passed by. But what was one supposed to do with people you couldn’t entirely stand but needed anyway…?

Pelt them with balls of snow, of course!

“Ow! Are you sure there aren’t any stones in these, Kimmy?”

“No no, just snow…” *Feels around for stones under the snow*

Snowball fights were great.

And actually this woman wasn’t too bad, Kimmy supposed. She would happily listen to Kimmy’s bitching about her old university acquaintances…

And she seemed to take Kimmy’s borderline bullying as friendly banter, which made a change from her wussy family members and their ~hurt feelings~.

Kimmy had never really considered becoming popular before, but she began to decide that she actually might like it. Naturally she deserved to be worshipped, but she’d never been popular with anyone who hadn’t been family, crazy or thinking with their genitals before. So she thought she might meet some more people. Maybe she could set up a cult.

She could even almost get along with people if she tried. She practically had people lining up to talk to her! This cult idea could be easy…

Although not if she couldn’t shower or bathe and continued to smell this bad, it wouldn’t be.

Nor if her cult members froze to death. She really had to fix this place. Make it her own. That would be good. Though she got the impression that she was expected to die before that could happen… She’d look into it.

In the meantime she had to settle for repeatedly washing her hands, which was hardly any help, but: spongebathing, really? She couldn’t see taking her clothes off being a good idea when it was this cold, as disgustingly unhygienic as staying in them and not bathing was.

And she hadn’t fixed the problem by the time she went to work, but it was a little better. Maybe the smell would help her in her job, warn off criminals.

Or maybe she’d get fired. Well screw them and that suspicious-looking guy with his fancy laptop. Who the hell had a laptop during the apocalypse anyway? He was asking to get it smashed.

And like she wanted to stop criminals, maybe she should become one herself, just to spite the jerks.

Like all things, post-firing stress could be easily solved with obsessive cleaning. Kimmy didn’t have much, but what she had would be CLEAN, goddammit.

Not everything was bad. Apparently she was still attractive to men, despite the outfit she wasn’t such a fan of, and her inability to bathe. Not that she was interested in the guy, but she’d take praise and worship wherever she could find it.

So she stood around listening to how great she was until she was too cold to stand anymore. They definitely needed to end the Winter. Also, hot baths. Hot baths and jacuzzis everywhere.

Once she was warm enough to venture out again, she came across a wolf with big, glowy eyes. She tried befriending it, because getting a pet with a ‘Hound of the Baskervilles’ vibe would be great, but it left too quickly. She just hoped it would come back and scare off people who displeased her.

But she had nobody to fix her bloody sink for her. Though it was cathartic, beating the crap out of something with a wrench.

Eventually she got bored of waiting for Military to show up and settled for Science in the meantime. After all, she’d already built a fair bit of logic at university and was all over the cooking and cleaning, so it was simple enough to skill for. Also, chemical explosions: what’s not to like?

So, when not at work, there was chess playing (Kimmy liked games she always won, even against invisible opponents)…

Studying (which she wouldn’t like so much, were it not about cooking or cleaning, both of which she loved)…

Fixing the crappy plumbing in the place again…

And meeting her adoring fans, because she was the awesome.

Though sometimes she was too busy to meet all of them.

But others of them had somehow got her phone number and would not stop calling. Given that this was the woman who set her up with that elderly butler, Kimmy really would have thought she’d have realised she should have kept her distance, but no, she just kept calling…

Well, might as well make the best of a bad situation. Maybe she could get a discount if she wanted another date one day.

And then it was back to work again, having had a promotion so she now got a less hideous car to pick her up. Though how they were maintaining that in an apocalypse, she did not know.

She also began to gather followers at work, sufficiently good that she could let them in her house, if only so they wouldn’t freeze to death before they could be of use.

She was aware that this loyal follower was male, and therefore potential husband material, but he was too old to help with fixing the place, and also: old people, ew.

Also he was an idiot. If she was going to be forced to stay with someone until she died, she would quite like him to have a brain. Walking all over people could get a little dull eventually.

Though none of the men around the place were exactly brain surgeons. Maybe the nuclear explosion or whatever had killed their brain cells. It would explain a lot.

Still unable to move anyone in yet anyway – and military still hadn’t come up – Kimmy remained basically alone. And without grilled cheese sandwiches, the greatest tragedy of all.

She did enjoy her chess board – though she didn’t have much alternative of things to do otherwise, so ‘enjoy’ should probably have been an overstatement – but it really wasn’t hitting the spot. But the next day was a Tuesday, so she could invite somebody over, if they liked her enough to brave the weather. But there were probably two people who would do that, so which one should she choose…?

Kimmy was tired of people without brains or backbones – and she would never forgive Professor what’s-his-face-whose-name-she’d-totally-already-forgotten for dropping her that time – so she hesitantly called up Justus the cow mascot. At least he had some balls, and she could break him eventually, she was sure.

Unfortunately he couldn’t stay for long, but a girl had needs seeing to, which he was at least competent at dealing with…

And her less intimate social needs could be dealt with by the old man who kept following her home. Maybe he hoped he was going to be able to marry her, but that just meant he was even thicker than she thought.

Though there was one man about town really pushing his luck.

Luckily for him, Kimmy was asleep when he entered, or he would have severely regretted having even been born.

“SOME BASTARD’S STOLEN MY FUCKING CHESS BOARD THE MOTHERFUCKING BASTARD! FUCK!”

It had taken Kimmy weeks to learn how to pronounce swearwords in Wingdings, and this seemed like an opportune moment to use it.

Although there was no tragedy large enough that it would allow Kimmy to leave her bed unmade. She had standards, dammit.

And then, to cap her day, she continued to be stalked by the matchmaker.

“No, I don’t need a date. I’m a lot more capable of finding myself a man than you are, apparently. … Um, yeah, I guess I could try to set you up with that guy from work, but it’s gonna cost you… How does that $5000 I wasted on that date sound?”

Kimmy wasn’t sure how to feel about money really. Her house was terrible, the ceiling only half finished, but that wasn’t due to lack of money so much as lack of supply of everything that could be bought with money.

At least nobody could judge the hideousness that was her house since nobody else actually had a house full stop, which she would happily point out to them. And this would certainly do for her, at least until…

She got her final promotion! Because she was awesome, of course. It wasn’t military, but at the rate things were going she would have died by the time she could have got and raised that, so screw Mzyra, she would do what she wanted.

She briefly tried to recall what this accomplishment actually meant…

YOU HAVE UNLOCKED SCIENCE!

“Hi, I’m Kimmy Ryman, lord and saviour of Hell.

Now, as we all know, science is awesome, and doing things for it is great fun, but what actual good does lifting it do in an apocalypse? Because we sure as hell still can’t use showers or cook grilled cheese!”

“Well, for one thing, you can have electric lights! Okay, that’s not that amazing, but have you considered how hard it is to skill over books at night?! Your sims are damaging their eyes, you heartless bas-! er, simmers.”

“And there’s other stuff too! You can buy TVs!”

“But you can only watch the cooking channel, work out channel and news until you’ve lifted Entertainment.”

“Oi, get out of my celebration!”

“I’m here to qualify your statements, now get on with it.”

“Ugh, fine. You can only watch the cooking channel and whatever, but that’s better than nothing, right?”

“And you can use your computer for stuff other than writing novels!”

“But only between midday and midnight on a Tuesday, until you’ve lifted Gamer.”

“What?! Seriously? Ugh, fine… You can only use it like that between midday and midnight on a Tuesday. But, like I say, better than nothing!

“Oh, and not to mention the fact that you can pick an aspiration reward that you can use and get more of forever!”

“So long as it’s not elixir of life or smart milk, until Oceanography is lifted. …What have you picked, anyway…?”

“SO ANYWAY, in summary, what you should know is: lifts are awesome, Science is awesome, and I am especially awesome for lifting science. We now return you to your regularly scheduled programme.”

‘Course the other thing she could now do was move somebody in and start a family. Yaaaaaaaaay. Because that had worked so well before.

Still, if she ever wanted to see her beloved grilled cheese sandwiches and personal hygiene again, she supposed it couldn’t hurt.

And Justus Oates wasn’t too bad as far as people who were not Kimmy went. Plus, intimate needs were a’calling.

Luckily he did what he was told and moved in – or moo-ved in, heh – which involved a massive transition from a white trenchcoat…

To a grey trenchcoat. To be entirely honest, she had hoped that he might take off that bloody mascot head, but apparently not. As a matter of fact, she’d never seen him with it off, so maybe he would turn out to be so hideous the mascot head would be best for everyone.

Still, he liked her.

“You ought to feel damn privileged that I picked you. You have a lot to make up for.”

He snorted. “Please, like you really would have picked that professor, or any of the Hellish simpletons. You’re lucky that I was willing to go through this crap with you. Probably any other partner and one or other of you would have wound up in a hidden grave beneath the snow.”

“Ha, don’t discount it now.”

To be completely honest, she kind of liked him too.

He also had a pretty good everyday outfit otherwise, which showed off some rather nice arms, which didn’t hurt his case, however his face turned out.

So with job and relationship sorted out, Kimmy really needed some extra time. Luckily she’d managed to acquire some elixir back in college that she could now drink. She didn’t know why they didn’t have the stuff in Simfield, it was fantastic.

Since lifting science, there were a few small additions to the house, mostly by way of lights, not all of which were connected to the slowly expanding ceiling yet. Kimmy thought that maybe the mascot head prevented Justus noticing this, because he had yet to complain or question it.

Or maybe he just didn’t care, because when he finally did remove the mascot head, he didn’t say much different.

And what did Kimmy think of his face? Well, at least he didn’t look like Christian, or a girl. And his crew cut was kind of dorky looking, but apparently that was the only way guys could wear the mascot head. Big nose too, but she didn’t mind that really, she’d just use it as an insult if she needed one.

Only issues might have been over personality, since Justus turned out rather more slobby than she would have liked, and more outgoing than she was used to. But that meant he sponge-bathed when he smelled, which had good effects, and was more often naked, about which she wouldn’t necessarily complain. And apparently neither would the repairman.

“Er, do you mind?”

“No, no, I’ll just stand here and wait for you to finish…”

Kimmy could have quit her job right then, but she quite liked being a mad scientist. It gave her a reputation for being a dangerous genius, both of which she appreciated. Also she got a limo and a robotic hand. How were they maintained? Still no idea.

But there was a toll to be taken from this whole relationship and intimate bonding malarkey. Initially being that she could never be too far from a toilet…

And then being larger than grilled cheese had ever made her, whatever dieticians would have said. This kid had better be bloody worth it, she decided.

Although, in its defence, it had pretty good timing, only just making itself apparent as her carpool arrived on the day before her time off, so she never actually had to miss a day’s work due to pregnancy.

Although maybe she should have, given how tired she wound up. And the pervy repairman-cum-apparent-scientist was apparently never any help to anyone ever. Even pregnant ladies suffocating in snow.

Meanwhile, Justus had gone into Oceanography as a career, where he must have received very odd looks with his mascot head. But it seemed that it was both waterproof and had an oxygen supply, so really nobody could criticise it much.

And when he was at home the ‘happy couple’ mostly played chess when Kimmy was feeling too grumpy about her pregnancy to go to bed with him.

Although Kimmy didn’t know why he was so convinced that the fridge was broken. She couldn’t see anything wrong with it, so his mascot head was clearly making him deluded.

She almost began to suspect that maybe he was lying in order to get her to look away so he could cheat, but he declared himself outraged that she would accuse him of such a thing and refused to keep playing until she apologised. Though she could swear she didn’t remember losing that second rook…

Meanwhile, their newspapers started disappearing. Justus claimed that he thought he saw the cheerleader from university stealing one, but really, what kind of crazy would you have to be to sneak out to steal an old enemy’s newspaper at night during a nuclear and zombie apocalypse…? Even cheerleaders surely couldn’t be that bad.

Just so she could complain to Justus, this was now officially like 30 sim days without a grilled cheese sandwich. She would continue counting and everyone would regret it until her true love returned.

Though their future child seemed to like hamburgers enough at least. Charlatan.

And Justus apparently liked pregnant ladies. Which he bloody well ought to, given that he caused this one.

Kimmy ended up napping on a lounger before the babies were due, rather than sleeping downstairs while Justus worked out for his job. Being pregnant could really kick the crap out of her energy levels.

But finally she was awoken by pains that she unhappily recognised. This baby better bloody well be grateful that she even bothered at this point.

And not long later she was holding said baby, a little girl – her first daughter – with black hair, Kimmy’s eyes and Justus’ skin.

And then Kimmy was hit with more pain and had to put baby 1 on the floor before baby 2 could come, though now she didn’t have enough space…

But eventually came baby 2, a boy with all of Kimmy’s colouring, which she supposed was a point in his favour, so long as he didn’t turn out like Terry in personality.

After a brief argument in which it was established by Justus that they wouldn’t be naming both children after her and thereby that she didn’t care and wouldn’t remember – and she totally wasn’t throwing a tantrum – Justus transformed her child A into Aisha Ryman-Oates…

And child B into Benton Ryman-Oates, while Kimmy cursed her own being a twin as probably having caused this.

Justus took to fatherhood very quickly. Kimmy put the baby in a crib rather than the floor, then rewarded herself with a hot dog while Justus did the rest. Hey: after her first child murdered her, these kids were lucky not to be left out in the snow or thrown down the stairs.

Oblivious to his girlfriend’s past (whether that would have mattered or not), Justus proposed, as he rightly should, given that there was no way he was ditching her with the babies, so she said yes. Only later did she consider the possibility that she might have been able to say no and ditch him with the babies…

And then they married, because they might as well. She wasn’t going to let him go until she wanted him gone. And apparently he wanted to make her his, as if anyone could own or control Kimmy M.F. Ryman.

But yeah, Justus was very happy, apparently. Kimmy could never have foreseen herself marrying a bloody family sim, but there she had it. She told herself it was different because at least he wasn’t a wuss. And because he was sure as hell the one doing the childcare during this apocalypse. While she… well, did what she was supposed to do: float around being worshipped by all and sundry. She’d get there eventually.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Observational writing is hard, you guys.

I know this has taken forever to come and I can’t guarantee the next chapters will be much faster until the legacy gets further along, but there’s a reason I’m sticking with this and this will all be finished, whether it’s a 100% successful apocalypse or not, so have patience.

In the meantime, read the legacy. There will be a test. Because of reasons that would be spoilers. And I’m better at that than this, I swear.