One year ago, The Trial had been abolished. One year ago, a newfound world of opportunities opened for our city, Aeropolis. One year ago, the bloodshed had finally stopped, and the monsters were caged (both the human ones and the genetically modified ones).
Walking down the streets, it was strange to see everyone walking, too, instead of boarding up their windows and doors or buying as much ammunition as they were able to. The stores were still open, as were the smiles of those I passed by. I was used to the muted panic coming from complete strangers who shared our fear. Now, a lighter feeling spread through the city like a contagious virus, only growing until the memory of the many years prior washed away with those who had died.
Memorials and the graveyards, specifically built for remembrance, were the only reminder that anyone had that it had all been real. Some people already stood around them, crying and sobbing as they consoled one another, sharing in one another's pain as they laid down flowers and talismans to ward off the angry spirits that had died. Superstition had grown, but so had the unease.
My fingers traced the embossed hilt of the knife that was sheathed by my side, attached to my belt. As I stared up at the towering building of the former leaders of Aeropolis, a dreaded sense of fury resided in my gut until it twisted as flashes of memory that I had tried to suppress engulfed my mind.
I had been drowning for too long, I realised. Cast aside upon tumultuous waters with those who I loved and cared for until there was nothing left of them. I couldn't save them from The Trial, nor could I protect or care for them as I promised I would after each year. The vows I had made to them all were hollow at best, now they were among those listed on the monuments and gravestones.
That towering building once was a home to those who oppressed us. Now, it was their prison, and I had a parting gift for them. My mission to finally end a chapter in the history book. I would be known as a murderer, a monster. Maybe I am worse than those in that building, but I could not care as I made my way into the control room.
One of the supervisors looked over at me, a twitch of fear in his cheek as he tensed. "Are you ready to do this, Captain?" He asked slowly and carefully, hanging his head low as he looked at the few switches that would seal the fates of those in their cells.
I looked at the camera surveillance upon the screens, glaring at the faces of those who had hurt everyone over the decades. Gulping, I flicked the switches without a second thought. I watched closely as a lime coloured gas filtered into the rooms and I took sadistic joy from watching them all burn.
Word count = 500 words
Written for the Dystopian Apocalypse prompt for the Halloween Vault 3D.
YOU ARE READING
Spookerella | Horror Short Stories
Kinh dị- Created for the Halloween Vault contests hosted by Wattpad - On Halloween, things always go bump in the night in the lonely pages of Spookerella. Whilst the dead wander the earth, haunting those still among the living, Spookerella waits for a fool...