Purple is the Face of Death

CHAPTER 1: ONE MAN

SOUL FEVERS & THE PURPLE HORIZON: MARKERS OF THE APOCALYPSE?

Thousands of victims across the globe are experiencing soul fevers---violent, unexplained convulsions characterized by a purple glow from the victim's' eyes and an extremely high probability of death once the seventh-hour mark is reached, with a case fatality rate of 90%. According to Vivian Clark, one of the famed few survivors of soul fevers, the experience was "an absolutely painful torture of the mind, body, and soul," and that these events are mere "warnings of the upcoming end times," a conclusion she based from the visions she and every other survivor described. Doctors are still baffled as to what causes them, but research is already on its way.

Meanwhile, scientists still cannot explain the faint purple glow present in the horizon all throughout the globe. Dubbed as "The Purple Horizon" by social media, people are starting to speculate that this is another sign of the approaching "apocalypse" and that it is connected to the soul fevers somehow. But until the scientific community confirms that there are no possible explanations for it aside from supernatural causes, we should probably keep our tinfoil hats off for now.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

I can understand why the media still insists on covering up this entire pre-apocalyptic situation. It's basically what they do: they try to calm down the public while the government (and we, the military) work behind the smokescreen to fix the problem. However, in this situation...is there still a point in doing so? I mean...I have never seen suicide rates skyrocket this high. Whatever panic the media is trying to control is already uncontrollable.

The whole world is on fire already.

"Soldiers, I believe all of you are already aware why we gathered here today."

The attention of every soldier filed and gathered within the open grounds of the underground military testing facility (myself included) is captured by the familiar voice emanating from the speakers. "We"? Huh. Even the general is so ashamed of showing his face that he talks to us like this. I used to be his right-hand man and now I'm part of his glorious plate of sacrificial lambs. (Well, to be fair, all soldiers are sacrificial lambs in a sense, regardless of context. But I digress.) I guess this truly is the start of the end times. Making us fight these unknown supernatural forces is basically suicide.

"Typically, I invite people like astrophysicists or pathologists to educate all of you about whatever global threat we are fighting. But as you all know, desperate times call for...desperate measures. We have to work with what we got. Now head out to the surface and meet your trainer."

The men (and a few women---hurray for equal representation) inside the facility are already showing signs of dread. Who could possibly guide us through a battle with forces from the other side?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

A typical sunrise usually paints the horizon with a warm, hopeful glow ranging between orange and yellow. Times are changing, of course. Because of this omnipresent "Purple Horizon", mornings will never have the same refreshing vibe to it. When we finally arrive at the grassy open fields in front of the facility entrance, we immediately assemble into platoons like earlier, as trained.

We stood there for a while, stationary but attentive and ready for orders. When the sun finally rose above the horizon, an unfamiliar male voice suddenly speaks.

"It's amazing, isn't it? It's a morbid reminder of what's about to come, yet it's still beautiful in a way."

The source of the voice gradually sounded closer and closer until finally, it's in front of us. "Don't even dare greet me with a salute. No need to be too formal when you're dealing with me. And please, look at my face. Stop looking straight ahead."