Distorted

Chapter twenty-three. Unleashed.

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Days went by like a hurricane, unkind to those unfortunate enough to stand in its way, and for others, it went by like a smooth wind, soothing and easy, can never hurt, can only heal.

A thick fog shadowed Ilusia as a whole, for the first time in ages, workers were given a holiday so as to avoid chaos.

That fog was a bad omen.

The crows were cawing on the iron gates of the light men's asylum, by the break of dawn, a loud cry echoed in the chambers of the beasts, it was soon followed by a strict silent and the thunder of each iron gate being destroyed into pieces.

Their blood was boiling.

The hunger they've suppressed for years shattered whatever sanity they had left. The quiet asylum was soon crowded with dozens of men and boys fighting their way to the exit, focusing their light at the iron gates and shattering it into pieces. In the process, they killed each other. They didn't care, all they cared for was acquiring the freedom they've dreamt of, it turns out that after all, their sense of reality breathed into them a little bit of lucidity.

"Close the gates!!" A guard shouted as he beheld the sight of their deathly light emitted from underneath their restrictive helmets, from his place, he can see these beasts running blindly directing their light close to the guards.

"That's..it.." In sheer horror, the guard cried as he eyed his friend one last time, in seconds, the light devoured everything in sight, the guards leaving nothing but ashes.

The end has begun. The beasts were unchained.

Ilusia, The suburbs.

In the rural part of Ilusia, streets empty, only the savage wind could be heard, the silence was strange to all those hiding inside their homes, decades of merciless labor with no attachment to what serenity a day of rest brought to them.

Children watched the world from behind their dusty shells, eager to join their fathers one day. Their ignorance was a bliss, maybe that shell was their only shelter, the one the likes of Merit never got to hide in. Even in such cold nights, a child would be wandering the streets carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, eyeing the moon in resent and pain, wondering what their little fingers could have caused to this world, or what those smooth tongues would have spoken to chain them to predestined life of slavery.

While separate lives went on between houses and streets, the workers cleaned the dust off their ears and nostrils, adapting to a normal life away from steam and smoke, and as they did so, the quiet were slowly growing noisy in a way that's not usual, children hopped out of their tiny worlds into the windows looking at the streets inspecting the source of this distant sound, and at last, the noise reached its peak, and the peaceful silence was forever broken.

The sirens frightened all those sleeping in the alleys, woke those drunkards, shook every child and awakened every Ilusian.

"Citizens of the capital, this is stage one emergency. Please lock your doors and hide immediately. Criminals have escaped and are currently on the run. We repeat, lock your doors and hide immediately. Turn off all lights and be sure to cover all the mirrors or break them."

The news broadcasted through each speaker in the streets while the sirens still echoed. Families were quick to follow the instructions, but, for the unfortunate ones, the homeless ran in deathly fear as the noise approached, they knocked on every door begging for mercy.

"I beg of you! Let me in! I will help-help you!" Cried an old man not younger than sixty as he knocked on the door of a small family he knew.

"Answer me! Please!" He broke down, screaming violently as he saw the light purging the dark empty streets, his heart stopped when he heard a voice from behind the door, "I'm sorry." It said.