How the Mighty Have Fallen

Prologue

Her boots pounded on the pavement as she darted for cover. The air raid sirens screamed at her, piercing her ears. This is not a drill. This is not a drill. Tears pricked her eyes--she wanted to throw herself onto the ground and scream, begging the enemy for mercy. Don’t bomb this city, please don’t bomb this city. But she knew it would do no good, the enemy couldn't hear her anyway. It was hopeless, utterly hopeless, unless she could make her way to the bomb shelter in time. 

With a new hope, she sped up her pace. As she rushed by, she noticed her church, and the grocery store she and her family had visited so often. Empty and abandoned. Everyone had left her behind it seemed, they were already at the shelter. 

A stitch in her side told her she needed to stop, but not when she was so close. 

Oh, who's stupid idea was it to have only one bomb shelter in this whole damned city? She thought anxiously, looking up at the sky in search of a bomber jet or even a bomb. Those things were always ready to blow you to bits. This is not a drill. This is not a drill. The sirens screeched, warning her, panicking her. She just had to make it, she had too! 

Suddenly, it was eerily silent. No sirens. No noise. She stopped running and looked up at the sky. Was it finally safe? Could everyone come out now? Was it just a drill? 

The low drone of a bomber plane woke her out of her reverie. Her city was finally being bombed and she hadn't made it in time. She was going to die. 

Her thoughts scattered, she ran, tears streaking down her dust-stained face. Run. Underneath that window ledge? No, that would mean certain--a horrible sound, the loudest thing she could have possibly ever imagined. The most terrible sound, like thunder to a whole new level, tore through the air. A building miles behind her had exploded and she could feel the heat of the bomb searing against her skin. Run. She wanted to just curl up and die, what was the point in running? She was going to die. 

Finally, when she thought her legs were going to give in, she curled up underneath a park bench to catch her breath, not far away from her apartment. The weather seemed to sense her sadness, the clouds were forming and a mist had set over the pond. Another loud blast, leaving her deaf for just a few moments. Another bomb. She jumped, it seemed closer this time. It wouldn't be long until they bombed this place, not long at all. 

She wondered if anyone had died in those bombings. If anyone was trying to survive like her, people who couldn't get into the bomb shelter. She wondered if she ought to find them, but no, not at a risk like this. There was a small chance of surviving, wasn't there? If she could only just keep running, then maybe she would have a chance. Or maybe, if she went to the already bombed areas--they certainly wouldn't bomb the same place twice, would they? 

She didn't have a chance to ever get up, for they had bombed the place where she lay. 

The force of the explosion knocked her body from underneath the park bench into a nearby tree, causing her to see stars for the longest time. When she tried to open her eyes to see if it was over, glass, metal and other sharp objects flew into her face, ripping into her eyes, shredding them. She couldn't open them. 

She couldn't see. 

She suffered small injuries after that, but none were as great as the one that mauled her face. What would she do now? Nothing could ever find a poor, blind girl underneath a tree. They would say she was dead and after that, she was as good as dead. 

But what she didn't know was that help was on the way. And not the help she ever could have imagined. 

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A man stepped out of the helicopter, shading his eyes and holding down his fedora as the rotors began to stop. He slipped on a pair of darkly shaded sunglasses and surveyed the damage. Blackened trees. Destroyed buildings. A hint of soot hung in the air as he kicked the ground with his foot, before waving on two women by the doors of the helicopter. 

They had work to do. 

He knelt down to take a sample of the dirt. “Take this back to the laboratory,” he ordered and handed the sample to one of the women, who nodded and hurried back to the helicopter. 

Then, he turned to the other woman and asked, “Any survivors?” 

She shook her head. “Not that I know of, sir. I had the hounds scavenge the city and there were no reports of anyone alive.” 

The man nodded. “Good, that’s good. We wouldn’t want to be the target of anyone’s blame.” 

But just as he turned to get back into the helicopter, he noticed the figure of a girl underneath the tree. Angrily, he turned back to the woman. “What about her?” he jerked his thumb back at the body. “Is she alive? Or did our precious hounds find her dead?” he added with a hint of a snarl and stalked back to the helicopter. She better not be alive. He knew the consequences of that. 

The woman sighed and went to the site of the tree, looking down at the small body. It seemed such a shame for a life this young to be taken away. “Hello?” she called out, reddening slightly. “Are you by any chance alive?” The poor thing stirred and the woman took her into her arms, careful not to hurt the child. This was a mistake, a mistake they couldn’t undo. They would have to take the girl with them. 

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“What is your name?” 

“...I don’t understand.” 

“What are you called where you came from?” 

“I came from New York. Why aren’t I there now?” 

“There was an accident. Your city is destroyed.” 

“..Oh.” 

“Now, no need to worry, you are safe here. Can you tell me what you name is?” 

“No. Not until I can go home.” 

“Fine. Then we will have to name you something else. We cannot just go around calling you ‘the girl.’” 

“What will you call me?” 

“You shall be known in this realm as ..Periculum. I think it is fitting, do you not?” 

“It's nothing like my real name..” 

“Well, since you are being difficult, we do not know your real name. Last chance to say it, Periculum..” 

“Since you know so much about me already, I'd like to keep my real name a secret.” 

“Very well. I understand you are fifteen years of age?” 

“Yes.” 

“Anything else you would like to add?” 

“Yes. Do you.. do you know why I can't see?”