Downpour

Chapter 1: The First Raindrop Makes

It had rained for three years and Ana was finally getting sick of it. Nobody knew where the eternal downpour had come from or why it didn't flood the city more, as no drainage got out of the walls. That wasn't to say the city wasn't flooded, however. The water was thirty metres high, a product of another stupid city council decision to reduce funding for the reservoir and dam in order to pay for the walls which, yes, had kept the plague out, but had also bankrupted the city. She walked along the narrow metal walkways high above the flooded ground and looked at the sky, radiant gold fading to bronze as the light left and the clouds rushed to fill the space, each pouring more and more water into the watertight space in the city.

Today the skies were a type of dark grey, as if a silver had got too much mud on it and the sun was too lazy to clean it off. The downpour was constant, cold and chilling. The city's radiant lights seeming muted in the sun's half-assed effort at keeping things visible. Ana held her arm beneath her coat as she walked along the metal walkways, feet clattering on the rickety rails. Waterproofing had been first on her list of priorities for repair, but a back-alley doctor will only get you so much and after the economy had crashed, back-alley doctors were all that were left.

She didn't blame the city council, so much as she blamed the election system. In order to keep things fair, the system was composed of grabbing random people, stuffing them into a black boat and locking them inside city hall, then getting them to lead as best as they could manage. She had watched the black-suited officers slowly carry the chloroformed "politicians" from her desk at the security booth, followed them on the cameras, watched, resigned to the fact that the system probably wasn't going to get any better. To get better you would need a leader, while all the city had was a confused mob.

She passed Tim from accounting on the way inside. He was nice enough. Bit boring. She instantly forgot about him and sat at her desk, downing a mug of discount coffeetm. She mourned the loss of coffee. It had gotten so rare now that if you could get your hands on it, that shit was like a fine wine. They were out of fine wine. They were also out of regular wine. They weren't out of vodka, though. Vodka is eternal.

Today was uneventful. Most days are uneventful. Today was like most days. She got up, she went home. It was a small apartment near the old dockyards and shipping districts, marked by a red sign that said "ELECTRIC HAZARD" and a yellow sign that said "NO, SERIOUSLY."

Strewn around the entrance were several electric hazards, a USB charger, several spare arms, a pile of guns and some Lucky Charms Cereal. In the fridge were some cheese sandwiches, half an onion, several frozen pizzas, a human skull and some twinkies. You could never get rid of the twinkies. She had tried. She had failed. She had tried again. She failed again. It was a miracle the city still had electricity. It powered the entire city, all the lights, all the coffee machines and microwaves, all the black boats. Those dreaded black boats. She hoped they would never come for her or anyone she knew. Getting assigned to the City Council was a life sentence, and although life in the city was short she still had about twenty-five years to go, and didn't want to waste them building an escalator to nowhere important (or in some cases, nowhere at all.)

Misster Bulldogs was presenting the news again. It was all the same. Something broke, resources wasted. Something dismantled, resources gained. Resources gained, something broke. She usually watched the news, even though it was all generic and never captured her attention. She just liked laughing at Misster Bulldogs' name. Wow, their parents were cruel. But today something did catch her attention. It was a Drainage protest in front of the city hall building. Drainage were a group of people who hadn't learned not to question miracles and were trying to find out why the water never rose any higher, despite raining for three months straight. She sighed and went outside, walking towards the building where she worked, along the ratways and the metal so old, like it would give way at any moment, and often did.

As she sat down in the security cubicle the protesters stopped chanting. There seemed to be more of them. One of them, a man with skin bleach white and a hat matte black and feathered, walked to the front of the group. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Everything was accomplished at the drop of a feather from a pristine hat, as a trill note was emitted as the feather burned at no provocation and the crowd of people shuddered, their eyes rolling back, staring into the darkness inside their own heads. Ana watched, confused. The note rang around her head. The note the last raindrop makes when you know it only precedes the true storm. The man's back bent backwards at an impossible angle, one that could only be accomplished with the absence of a spine, or anything at all. The top half of his body folded into the lower half and suddenly was gone, the ashes of the feather dissipating into the wind.

And then, with what looked like tremendous effort, the mob took a single step. Then another. Then another. Right up to the entrance. No barricade could stop them. No force creatable in the short time she had before they reached the chambers could hold them. The black, unshakeable doors would surely crumble beneath their combined strength of will. And, suddenly poised before the unshakeable doors, they stopped. Then they dispersed rapidly, taking out the cameras and abducting everyone in the building. Tim from accounting fought valiantly with a stapler and a broom before tumbling out the window into the water below, Geniene from Archiving was taken on the spot, and the last thing Ana saw before the cameras all went black was the papers, all the papers being taken from the entire building. Tax reports, Budgets, everything was gone. The last member of the mob stepped inside the building, and Ana hit the Lockdown button, locking everyone inside. It didn't matter where they were taking the people or the papers if they couldn't get outside. The security booth's protective walls tripled in thickness. People tried to get inside. They couldn't. Nobody could.

One by one, the cameras flickered back on as the mob, many strong, battered at the doors to her room. It didn't matter. She was safe. Nothing could get inside. She had unshakeable doors of her room and no force could break them. She watched the mob futilely trying to get in, desperately trying to remove the doors.

Then she watched the man with chalk white skin and a fabulous hat. She watched him work his way over to the door, body hidden beneath a dark coat. She watched his eyes, a brilliant, icy, glowing blue. Then he reached her doors and he smiled, his mouth slightly open and inside it she glimpsed a terrible, pulsating, turbulent red. The red the last raindrop makes on the window as the blood finally stops falling.

He placed his chalk white finger on the door, fingernail long and a color hard to describe, but the best she could come up with was "Brimstone." He twisted the finger, turned it, began drilling with the finger alone. It drove through the six inches of formerly impenetrable metal with a hole the size of a fist. Then he calmly reached through and slid a disk through it. The disk beeped. Beep again. Beep.The floor beneath her began to shatter as the disk fell, destroying the ground beneath her where she was going to land, where she should have landed, where she needed to land if she had any hope of getting herself out alive. She was falling and the black waters beckoned. She was falling and down below her she heard the sound the last raindrop makes as it shatters upon the floor below.

I take a walk on the night sky, brittle grass crunching beneath snow-covered feet. In the sky,

High below me,

In the night sky I see- all the things I do not know.

Shuddering shapes, pulsating, fluid in their forms.

I take a walk on the night sky, bright black flames smothered beneath paws of brimstone. In the sky,

High Above Me,

In the night sky I see- all the things I cannot know.

Infinite complexes of cosmic magnitude, a myriad of multitudes marvelled malignously. Lights blink in the sky high above me and I see them too.

I take a walk on the night sky, bodies soft beneath talons of infinite, and around me I see

all

the

things

And I know. I know but I do not understand.

I take a walk.