A Truth Untold

Chapter One

The screams pierced every corner, every brick and stone, every street, office and apartment, like knives shattering glass that represented hope and security; a frail, weak obscurity. They echoed down cracks and holes of neglect, destruction and malcontent, the world’s carelessness, revealing the devastation that had been wreaked upon it. Miles away, although only a faint ringing to a sensitive ear, the cringing sound could be heard rising from the depths of the once proud, controlled and prosperous city. Before, many, many days ago, it had been a thriving, pulsating force within a country that had stood proud and secure. Crowds had flocked upon cruise ships storeys high, jets with numerous floors and luxury, trains that pelted through the adventurous surroundings at speeds higher than many could fathom. All of this, just to view and gasp in awe at the mere form of this legend.

The green, smiling face of a woman, holding a book under one arm and raising a burning torch high into the heavens in the other, bore sadness and grief, unapparent within the days she had been constructed, gazing out into the sea. Her eyes bore sorrow and disbelief; how could a country so strong within its people tear itself apart through fear and selfishness? Even her majestic construction was now flawed and impaired, chipped, graffiti, regarded as nothing but a simple wall on which to disgrace and corrupt. During her time and greatness, she had guided all of those who thought themselves fortunate to travel beside her, her soft complexion evoking inspiration and success. Little more than dreams were her history now, no one cared for the world and its foundations anymore.

The screams erupted behind her, although echoing through the atmosphere all around. The terrible noises were emitting from thousands of people who were crammed down blocked, guarded streets, being steadily, although intentionally hastily, shuffled through checkpoints and mesh gates. After hundreds of these heavily, wavering guarded pints, trucks were loaded to their capacity and further still, before driving off through the deserted lanes, once piled with beeping, rush hour traffic, and out into the dark, blanket of night. As controlled as it was and seemed the screams, shouts, cries of anguish and dismay, still radiated into the blockades and skyscrapers that kept them enclosed like cattle for slaughter. Desperation and need, hunger and the will to avoid being left alone, all drove the helpless citizens on their long journey, running from their homes, apartments, street benches, leaving in their wake all that they knew, all of their possessions. Such was the cry to leave, sacrifices were inevitable, and however drastic they were.

The procession of countless worried citizens gradually began to feel more uneasy, picking up pace and forcing the police and sparse military uniform to shout warnings to the throng, even threatening numerous people in attempt to quell the increasingly tense situation. Their warnings and cries were met with uninterested faces, their commands simply floating through the crowds. All of the assembly had one thought tearing through them. Enough time had passed; the stars had been out too long. The children were shivering. Enough was enough.

A steady gap was being forced by the multitude, gradually working a weak point that they could surge through. The throng of people, now stretching across the city and beyond, were building up pace, flowing through Times Square without hindrance. Steadily, faster and faster, they pressed on, keeping it to a level at which the police paid little attention to. Yet as a thick fog began to condense and engulf the crowd nearest to the front of the precession, within a mile of the transport position, panic and worry erupted like a wildfire. Immediately, the uniformed officers picked up upon the sudden change in behaviour, anxious looks upon the faces of the younger officers breaking the blanket of control they had generated. The shouting of commands, threats, futile attempts at regaining the lost dominance over the now oblivious public, all rang out more frequently, hurriedly, their neglected and abused position now in jeopardy.

…a gunshot rang out into the night…

…the trigger had been pulled…

Thousands of citizens suddenly bolted like terrified horses, tearing their way through the now defenceless gates, breaking into runs, smashing down the fences and trampling over cars. Torn apart, ripped to shattered pieces, the remains of anything in their path were flung to the sides, leaving the way clear for thousand more mindless people to charge their way at everything that stood against them. Officers abandoned their posts, even the older generations that were used to inspiring fear and self-respect realised how much of the situation was lost. The stampede was unstoppable, grown men, protective mothers, children who thought it was a simple game or crying out of fear. Those too slow were knocked over by those behind, forced to the ground and swept underneath the endless wave of trampling feet, their last moments spent in broken bones, bleeding hands, alone, shrieking. Screams joined shouts, even war cries of which many could be classified, aimed in demoralising the little authority that stood in their way. Barricades to the sides, leading down previously empty streets were overpowered, overturned. Cars were smashed and crumpled, some ripped apart to be used as rams against sturdier foundations, shields and rests for those too weak to join the masses.

 The inexhaustible wave careered onwards, accelerating as it spread in all directions like a spider’s web, weaving its way around the ominous buildings and piling streets. The chaos and mayhem that had unfolded continued for hours, a few hundred people taking over the trucks and vehicles, pulling ignorant drivers to the ground and to their likely deaths, speeding off and leaving those unlucky enough behind. With all transport and ways out having departed, and seen as no one held the courage and decency to return to help more, confusion and perplexity began to creep into the frail minds of the now bemused crowds. Upheaval began to occur, various groups forming and accusing others, trying to find a way to blame another for their pitiful circumstances. With their goal lost, what to do was hidden from everyone and the entire bewildered crowd left futile after hours of wasted commotion and escape. There was no escape now.

A shrill, high pitched scream ripped apart the malcontent and dispute that had formed, impossible, unbelievable in its strength, the fact that it was resounding from a small, shaking, crying girl, only about six or seven in appearance, shook all around her out of their blind rage. Why she was screaming wasn’t apparent for a few moments, several members near her looking bemused, uncomfortable, a few thoughts of madness and insanity passing through their eyes. A disgruntled woman ran forward in a forlorn attempt to silence and comfort the child, but the little girl was petrified and rigid in her fear, captivated by a seemingly invisible torment.

After several moments, more attentive members of the crowd realised the child wasn’t screaming into the heart of nothingness. She was looking into the sky, as her small hand rose up into the air, her index finger stretched out; the intrigued yet apprehensive onlookers followed her gaze.

Hundreds of previous pursuers and intent followers of the crowds were hanging malevolently in the sky, a look of terror etched upon their faces like carved marble. Across the fearful complexion of men, women and children, all bore the same look, as though they had come face to face with their worst visions, a nightmare apparent only to themselves, taunting, a cage of insanity. Suspended around fifty feet into the air, an invisible rope hanging from the night sky, arms stretched out, eyes and mouths wide open, a silent scream made by all. The sight was incontrovertible. This was hell itself. No blood dripped from the lifeless bodies, no wounds or marks were visible. Death wreaked its presence among the floating mortuary, inspecting each and every one of its victims.

A steady breeze began to float its way through the crowd…

Once more, the congregation bolted real fear and terror erupting inside, after having finally come face to face with the force they had been running from for so many days and miles. But the resistance was but a simple sport. The little girl that had been crying was the first, thrust up into the air from where she stood, her life obliterated before she knew what had happened, the small, flickering light inside her extinguished in one, pathetic breath. Others soon joined her, wrenched from their feet into the iron grip of a concealed omen, proceeding through the same ritual, unable to move, unable to willingly end their lives before meeting their worst nightmares and haunts. The screams had returned, now full of knowledge and intent of what they were for, trepidation and horror very real emotions.

After several minutes of panic, on the edge of darkness and damnation, the streets reverted to their quiet, unimpeded state. The tarmac and road markings were now discernable, although cracked, dented, and overused. Silence had never been heard as much as it could now, as inconceivably no other sound could reach its way to the graveyard above.

No survivors remained, all were now safely in their final resting place, passing into the afterlife, in a state of inevitability yet uncertainty. The fires they had longed never to witness licked at their flesh as they moved ever further from the golden gates that were now full of rust and grime, so long had it been since a soul had passed through. Their bodies remained floating, residing in a place they would do so for all eternity, to leave a presence, sign and warning to any who dared walk among this place. This was punishment that waited any and all. This was the proof that showed the mightiest of what was waiting those that defied power. New York was gone, but so many would share its fate.

Their time was over…

…His had begun.