When Man Has Fallen

JAN. 7, 2020

Silas stared deep into the well, down, down into the darkness, reminiscing about the past few years. How it all went to hell.

He pulled slowly on the rope, attempting to keep quiet. He choked slightly on the dust filled night air as he looked up at the glistening stars and all their coldness, and he cursed them for bringing this upon humanity. They sparkled and shone in the cold crystalline atmosphere, taunting him and his sorrows. He had once admired their frail light, as a young child, reaching for them, wondering what it was like out there, amongst the twinkling lights. But now, even as he begrudgingly admitted their beauty to himself, he remembered the night that the stars had come to them.

It was the year 2012 and everyone had been living in fear, waiting for that fateful day in December when the world was going to end. Silas had scoffed at the idea... then. In a way, he still justified himself, thinking everyone and all their theories were just a bunch of bullshit. Because they had been. Nobody had come close to predicting what occurred that fateful day, 8 years prior...

They infected our water supply. Attacked our military bases. Our world seats of power. They knew us. They were ready. We were, are nothing compared to them. All our might. Gone in a day.

A twig snapped off to his left and he froze, turning his head slightly, keeping movement to a minimum. There was one off about fifty paces, hunched over, its oozing gray skin glistening in the moonlight. It stiffened suddenly, sniffing, as it drooled on the frosty pavement, its many eyes glowing soft yellow in the dark. Silas' eyes widened in anticipation of sudden death, but it was for nothing. It began to move off shuffling along, grunting in the night, huffing the cold air.

Silas kept quiet, not moving, wishing for nothing more than to rush out and kill the monster from behind. He could win, he was sure of it. He resisted the suicidal urge. It passed, and Silas turned his attention back to the well, to survival. He continued pulling slowly on the rope, his thoughts turning, again, back to that fateful week. The last week of humanity.

DEC. 15, 2012

Silas strolled down the Miami street, avoiding passerby's, his hair blowing slightly in the cool breeze. He stopped in front of a store featuring the newest and latest of the Sony Entertainment Systems. Had to hand it to the big corporations. At least they didn't get caught up in all the end of the world fuck-waste. Just another Y2K. He whistled at the price tag... On second thought, maybe they did. 1200 Euros. A bit outside his price range, and a little outrageous. He only had 6 Euros in his pocket.

A man on television caught his eye. Some raving idiot at a pulpit it looked like. Seen plenty of those recently. Religious Pastors calling people to arms, to repentance... Silas himself was religious, but he still didn't buy into the Mayan calendar crap, and found it kind of insulting that many 'Christian' Religions would worry about something from a people who's highest god ate his denizens.

He took a closer look. It actually seemed to be something from NASA. Still, just some raving idiot at a pulpit. He caught the words; 'Coming our way,' and 'Within the week.' 'Yeah, yeah, whatever,' he thought to himself.

He walked away from the glass planed store front, avoiding a beggar coming out of the alley, bleary eyed, hands outstretched. Disgusting filth, why should he do anything for him? He hoped he would never end up like that.

JAN. 7. 2020

Silas pulled the bucket from the well, icy water spilling slightly onto his hands. He untied the rope from it, set it down carefully, next to another several buckets, and a few feet from six similar buckets. Picking up a curious notched stick that was leaning up against the well, he stood between the buckets, sliding the pole underneath the buckets handles, which fit neatly into the notches on the stick.

Heaving silently in the dark, Silas lifted the stick above his head and lowered it gently down onto his shoulders. It was lighter than usual, which was bad, as it meant the well was running dry, but it was also a bit of a relief for Silas. The trek home was far from easy. Not only did he have to avoid the treacherously icy footing and pitfalls that led down into the old sewer system, but he also had to avoid the nocturnal creatures which man kind had come to fear and loathe.

As the one of groups oldest and most experienced, he had been chosen as a gatherer, one who kept the people provided for. There were other reasons as well, but they were known to a very select few. If anyone else were to find out, he may well be killed out of fear.

He trudged slowly through the thin layer of snow, wending his way back to camp. His heightened senses lay the landscape bare before him, and he hopped easily from rock to rock following the worn path he knew by heart, and which he could have followed even without the heightened strength and senses.

As he approached the towering walls of the camp, he had another flashback.

DEC 20, 2012

Silas awoke with a grin. He looked at the clock. Nearly noon. His grin widened. Nearly 12 hours into the end of the world, and the world was still here. Let the I told you so's begin...

He bounded down his dorm stairs after breakfast, proclaiming, "OH SAVE ME GOD, FOR THE END IS HERE."

Several people huddled in the corner of the room crossed themselves in fear, and several others who shared Silas' mindset snickered. He went over to the latter group, and exchanged high fives. He chitchatted for awhile, then got up and wandered outside...

It was a beautiful day out with blue skies and few clouds. The temperature was around 80 degrees, with low humidity. A perfect day in Miami.

He'd been standing there for some time, when one of his buddies, Luke, who was currently stressing out over the date, came up behind him, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Uh... hey man, you might wanna come check out the t.v. dude."

Silas waved his hand in dismiss.

"What interest could a t.v. possibly hold for me on a day like this? I'm gonna go hit the surf man."

"Dude seriously, come look. Please."

"Fine..."

Silas got up, finally looking at Luke, whom was pale and trembling, sweat beads popping out all over his face.

"Luke, dude, chill. You look like shit my friend."

Luke looked Silas in the eyes, and said very calmly:

"Silas, we are all going to die."

Those words sent a chill through Silas' soul that day, even as he scoffed and patted his friend on the back; a chill that had never quite left him, and one that had reverberated through his mind as he leaned over his dying friend later that evening, his face twisted in agony.

JAN. 7, 2020

As he approached the gates, he touched his ear, activating the commlink with the guards.

"Alpha. Piotous. Caesar. Lycan. Pi."

The gate slowly came down in front of him, crossing the moat. The gate itself was composed of old billboards, welded together and covered in massive amounts of duct tape and .

'How far we have fallen...' He thought to himself.

He crossed the gate quickly, spilling some water, which he was sure he would be reprimanded for, but not as much as if he were to let one of those Infected, or Zombies as some called them, in. That was punishable by death.

He reflected on the name zombie. Growing up, Zombie had been a fictional, slow moving, dead creature that could only be killed if its nervous system were destroyed. Today's fell creatures were far worse, and much harder to kill.

In the movies, zombies were pale, rotting heaps of flesh, easy to look at as dead, inconsequential, if a threat. Easy to laugh at, you were gleeful when the main character made a kill... The true demons of this world were not. For a time, they were your friends. Your family. They could talk to you. Appeal to you. Bring up old memories of being together, only to kill you as soon as you let ur guard down, or worse, make you one of them. Only the merciless in this world could survive.

Some speculated that perhaps our friends and family members fallen to this curse are still alive in there somewhere, controlled by the plague that destroyed our world. Either way, they have no control over their actions.

After some time, they began to change. Grow, distort. Change into something else. Stronger. Faster. They spoke a different language, built strange machines, strange weapons, that could kill a man with a single, untraceable round. Upon capture the creatures die instantly and their technologies, while we can use them, we cannot reproduce them.

DECEMBER 20, 2012

Silas hurriedly followed Luke inside, where a group had gathered around the dorm television. It appeared to be a news station. The image behind the anchorman appeared to be some sort of massive floating object, floating over the ocean. Instinctively, Silas threw a glance out the window at the water. Nothing.

He looked back, and it had gone to a new scene, with a reporter in a city in turmoil.

"NEWS at 10 on FOX"

"Hello, this is Nathan Coswell reporting from Tampa Bay, Florida! As you can see, there is widespread panic through the city ooof! sorry chuck, people are everywhere! Just got a little side swiped! But as you see here, there seems to be some sort of stationary object floating over the water, about a mile or so offshore! It has been here about 45 minutes, and we have seen absolutely no activity from the object since its sudden appearance!"

"Any idea what it is, Nathan?"

"No idea Chuck. If you look closely, this thing seems really to be a giant rock! It's irregular in shape, dark and mottled looking, full of craters really. Wasn't NASA saying something about spacial anomalies earlier this week Chuck?"

"Why, yes, I think so Nathan, but I can't quite remember the particulars... Well, folks, this is simply astounding! You say its just floating Nathan?"

"Well, that's the way it appears Chuck... just a giant floating rock."

"Hold on Nathan. We've --"

"Ok"

"We've just received report of one over, Miami! D.C.! Phoenix! Niagara! St. Louis! Salt Lake City! And many other major cities!"

"I don't mean to cast a bad light on this, but considering the day, this seems a bit coincidental don't you think?"

"Er... Well, lets not draw conclusions shall we? Oh my god, did it just move?"

"I think so sir!"

And with that, the rocks fell from the sky, and the world would never be the same.

JAN. 8 2020

Silas awoke, bleary eyed. He stood up shakily, dusting his filthy rags off, trying to at least look somewhat like he cared about his appearance. He stretched, then retched at the smell emanating from his underarms. Deodorant had disappeared probably ten years ago. You never really got used to it.

He stumbled to the washbasin, careful to avoid others sleeping in their bags, or cots. Splashing water carefully on his face, he attempted to wash away some of the bleariness and dirt, to no avail.

He turned and picked his way through the room, to the door, and then proceeded to fall down the stairs. He picked himself up at the bottom, cursing and wincing. The guards at the doorway rushed in, weapons raised, faces alarmed, and then, realizing what had occurred began to laugh uproariously at him. "Yeah, go fuck yourselves," he muttered, then stomped off, which only made them laugh harder.

Really, he couldn't be angry at them for laughing. He was glad he could make them do so. There just wasn't much around for humor these days...

Suddenly, red lights, and an ear splitting screech sounded throughout the camp.

"BREACH, BREACH, BREACH. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. BREACH. BREACH. BREACH."

He flung himself in the direction of the gate.

THEY WERE IN. THEY WERE FUCKING IN.

His eyes flashed yellow and he grinned with pointed teeth.