There's a moment when the sun disappears, when darkness falls, and you're left
with just your fears. That's the moment you feel your first pang of doubt.
That's the moment when the night comes out. When the night comes out
presents the Top Floors, Part two. When we last saw our intrepid worker
be, they were trying to deal with their new reality, the reality that
the entire world may just have been swallowed in a deadly fog, a kind
of mist that devours everything it touches. Trapped high above the carnage, unable
to get down, some of their more base and primitive inclinations will come to
the forefront, not entirely unexpected, when the night comes out. The rest
of that afternoon and evening passed in a weird haze. Eventually food was passed
out, but there were already attempts at rationing. I ate whatever food was
handed to me, but in an automatic, robotic way where I barely tasted
it. I sat in the easy chair and stared out the window. The
clouds look higher. Did Brent have a point? Jared sat at one of
the tables in the kitchen and stared at his phone, also eating in an
automatic way. His face, however, got me worried. He looked mad
instead of scared. His skin was red, his mouth a steady line with
almost no color. I wondered who else would finally decide they'd had enough and
leave. Everyone else seemed too afraid or in shock. However, if the
clouds were still there tomorrow with no let up, this peace would not last.
The moon rose slowly peering over the tops of the clouds. It was
nearly full, and it cast a cool lne across the vast whiteness of the
clouds below. It was eerie, to say the least, and the clouds
kept rolling along, moving as a steady mass without brakes or thinning. I
was tempted to head back down to the floor with my desk, but I
was not feeling the stairs. Instead, I fell asleep in the easy chair
with my head back and mouth open. As I dozed off, my body
and mind just shutting down because there was nothing else to do. I heard
some people weeping softly. I heard soft moans too, and wondered who decided
now was the perfect time to engage in sexual relations, But really, who
could blame them? Soon I was in a dream as you might imagine,
the dream was not pleasant. Within it, the top of the building had
detached from the bottom and floated above an endless sea of clouds, except that
when you looked down at that sea there were shapes and shadows of things within.
Creatures with tentacles and teeth occasionally popped their heads up over the clouds like
giant fish and snapped at the bottom of the top floors we were in.
We floated around the world, and there was nothing but clouds and the weird
creatures casting shadows, no airplanes, helicopters, or other buildings. When I
turned to see all of us standing at the windows, everyone on the top
floors was a walking skeleton. The skin was pulled tight across their bones.
I sunken teeth visible from lips stretched tight. No one could speak, just
make those sounds you heard zombies make in the movies. All of us stood
in front of the large windows with nowhere to go, no food to eat,
nothing to do, just standing there, starving to death. And when
I saw my own reflection, I saw that I was just as much of
a walking skeleton as the rest of them. At some point within the dream,
the top floors began to ascend higher and higher. The sky got darker
and darker, until we managed to drift off into space. An odd spaceship
that was just about fifty floors of a skyscraper with no bottom, spun around
until we could look back at the planet we had left. As the temperature
within dropped and the oxygen vanished, we choked and gasped, but studied the
earth behind us. It was covered in clouds, and the shapes moved within,
larger now they were planet sized creatures. Behind the planet was a huge
mouth covered in rows of teeth, as if ready to bite into the earth
like an apple. And as this mouth exhaled, the clouds came forth,
covering everything within, stretching out into space. Now behind the mouth were eyes,
yellow eyes, filled with such evil that it would cause any person who
saw it to go insane. I snapped awake, my heart pounding, and
for a moment I thought the building really was moving. It took a few
seconds for me to remember or where I was and why we were not in
space, not floating. But the nightmare of real life was just as bad
as the dream bad dream. I heard a voice ask over my shoulder.
It was Jesse, one of our account team. Tall with long blonde hair.
She was statuesque in a way you were no longer allowed to talk about
a person in a working environment. I always had the suspicion she didn't like
me for some reason, but always guessed it was probably due to the age
difference. I could not relate to some of the young people. She looked
frightened and had taken up the other easy chair where Jana had been earlier.
Yeah, a bad one. She nodded slowly, her face lit by the
moon, which was near the top of the windows now but still visible beyond
her. The clouds moved on and on in an endless sort of tide.
I had a few two, she admitted. I keep staring at the clouds.
They never break, never once. I can't remember ever seeing clouds do
that before, not even on the rainiest of days. Brent thinks the clouds
are some kind of living creature. I whispered, something hungry. Jesse gave
a soft laugh, And what do you think. I think any theory works
when the thing that has never happened before or happens. Jesse seemed to think
about this for a while. Then she pulled her legs up onto the chair
and turned back toward the window. I just hope I don't starve to death.
She said, that's got to be the worst way to go. Whatever
this is, and however it kills you, it has to be better than
that. She said nothing else, and I had no response. I stared
out the window, noting the stars and remembering my dream. Eventually I heard
heavy breathing from Jesse and realized she had fallen asad sleep. I could hear
others breathing heavily too, Just before sleep got me too. I realized if
Jared decided to head down tomorrow, Jesse would probably go with him. Day
two, I awoke to noised voices talking excitedly and angrily. There had been
more troubled and troubling dreams throughout the night, but they evaporated once I opened
my eyes once again. With my eyes open, I couldn't remember where I
was or what was happening. So I flailed around and promptly fell over onto
the floor the chair on my back. The sounds came into focus. I
distinctly heard Jared's voice, and he was angry, not a big surprise.
There were other voices merged into a cacophony of sound. I tried to say
something, but found I was out of breath, struggling to get to my
feet. Once I got up right, I looked around. The sun was
still down below the layer of clouds, but the edge of the horizon was
brightening with the oncoming sun. There were still no breaks in the clouds.
I could see the tops of some of the other buildings, however, so
I was slightly encouraged that they were not getting higher, not that it would
do much good if we couldn't ever get down. I staggered my way toward
the kitchen. I found a crowd of about fifteen people. Jared was in
the middle, his legs apart in a fighter stance. Brent stood there with
his hands out in front of him, as if trying to calm him.
There was a clear delineation between sides. Here. On Jared's side were Curtis
and as I suspected, Jesse, plus a few others, maybe a total
of seven people. The rest of the group, including Peter, who stood
behind Brent like he was literally holding him up, or on the other side
of the kitchen. The people behind Jared looked a angry and determined those behind
Brent still looked in shock and scared. Brent, So help me, God,
if you start spewing the same bullshit you always do, I'm going to
clock you and knock you right the fuck out, Jared said, spittle flying
from his lips. Okay, Jared, look, I know you want to
try leaving. I get that there's nothing I can do to stop you.
I just want to know if you'd be willing to use your phone so we
can watch. If you make it down, then we can all leave.
Brent had managed to explain his plan quite easily and quickly. Jared cast a
quick glance behind him to see how much of a crowd he had managed to
gather. I'm not participating in some experiment. Besides, I thought the phones
weren't working. If we use the building Wi Fi and someone face times me,
I think it will be able to provide us with a clear shot of
what's happening. Brent was remarkably calm. He lowered his hand. If not
you, then one of your followers, Fuck you. Brent. Are you
going to stand aside and let us pass? Jared asked, I'll do it.
It was Jesse. She stepped forward and handed Brent her phone. He
did a few taps of the screen, then answered his own phone. They
were connected and he could see whatever Jesse's phone camera was showing. Jared I
said, as quietly and calmly as I could, Why do you want to
leave now? The sun's not even up yet. Maybe just wait? I'm
through waiting. Jared replied, We've sat here all goddamn night based on a
theory no one has proven. Brent just talks, and there was an elevator
with what might have been blood in it. There's been no news, there's
been nothing. I'm not gonna sit here staring at this room for another fucking
day. I need to get home to my family. I've already talked to
him. Brent answered, We've been talking for a while now. Jared and
his team here, they're all sure this is the right move. I don't
think we're going to convince them otherwise. I looked at Jesse. Are you
sure you want to do this? I asked. I don't want to sit
here and starve to death. She answered, If something's going to happen,
then let it happen. I want this over with. I nodded and sighed,
okay, Sorry for interrupting, I got here late. Jared put his
hands down and stopped, standing like a bare knuckle boxer. His face was
red and sweat ran down his face. He chewed his lower lip. He
did not look like a man trying to lead a revolution. Okay, then
let us through. He said, if we get to the bottom without any
trouble, you'll see it and come down right. Brent and I nodded at
the same time. The group of seven moved past us, headed for the
glass doors and the elevators. All of them looked nervous. With the possible
exception of Jesse given and how she spoke to me the night before, she
just seemed to resign herself to the fact she would either make it or not.
I felt bad that she felt that way, but it was hard to
argue. They all reached the elevator and Jared hit the button. We all
stood there and watched, unsure of what to say or do. The seven
looked back at us, but no one said a thing. Given how surreal
the entire event had been, this incident was somehow even more so. Eventually,
after what seemed like an eternity, an elevator arrived, dinging loudly in
the silence. One of the elevators in the middle opened. When it did,
several of the seven stepped back a bit, and looks of utter disgust
crossed their faces. We're going, Jared announced, swallowing hard. One by
one, they entered the elevator. The last one to enter was Jesse.
She cast one quick glance my way and then entered as well. I felt
my stomach drop as the door closed. Jesus, I whispered. Brent was
back in the kitchen and he was already broadcasting the FaceTime call to one of
the monitors on the wall. Jesse was holding the phone close to her chest,
and I could see the walls and the elevator door. It was sprayed
with blood, just like the rest of them had been. Oh god,
Reekson here, one of the seven declared, but I couldn't recognize the voice.
Shut up. Jarrett snarled the door shut, and he pressed the number
one button for the bottom floor. The elevator got really silent. Jesse pointed
the phone camera so we could see the door, some shapes of the others
around the side, and the floor indicator in the upper right. I felt
slightly faint as I watched those numbers descend. I realized I'd been holding my
breath. I looked around at the others, and all of us were locked
to the screen. The only one who didn't seem to be showing much emotion
was Brent. There was nothing from the elevator feet. For some time.
The numbers just kept going down. Eighty seventy nine, seventy eight, seventy
seven, seventy six. How much further, I wondered, how long before
they reached the cloud layer. Hey, I feel kind of weird, a
male voice said from the elevator crew. Me too, Jesse said, but
she did not sound panicked. Seventy three, seventy two, seventy one,
seventy sixty nine. The rest of the seven started to talk. I feel
so strange. My arms are tinling. What the fuck is this, Jared,
sounding stressed, cried, just shut up, it's all in your mind.
No, this is something else. What is this? It hurts?
I think that might have been Peter Ah. This time it was Jesse,
the cry of pain loud against the microphone of her phone. Oh my god,
Oh my god, Jared managed to say. But then one of the
shapes off to the side seemed to crumple a bit. Jesse held onto her
phone and turned it just as Jared's entire body turned into mist. One second,
it was there, fully dressed, bent over slightly, as if in
pain, and then there was a kind of tearing sound. His clothes,
hat, everything about him just vanished, and there was a spray of blood
which coated the camera on the phone. Stop the elevator, Peter cried.
Others were crying out now too, stop it, stop it. Jesse let
out a long scream, and then it stopped. The phone went blank.
We all stood there, looking at a black screen in the kitchen. We
all stood there, unsure of what to do. Then Jennifer, one of
the designs, made a wretching noise and ran for the nearest garbage can.
We could all hear her loudly throwing up whatever leftover she had eaten so far
that morning. Jesus, I said, unable to come up with something more
profound, I turned my head and looked at Brent. His hand was up
to his mouth, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen, but there
was nothing etched in his face to indicate what he was feeling. Brent,
I asked, he blinked and turned his gaze towards me. I could see
tears stood out against his eyeballs, but they were apparently having an issue falling
from them. Yes, what do you think? Brent shook his head very
slowly, as if his neck were on a rusty old hinge. I don't
know yet. Nothing in my head is good. Do you think this is
really alive? Do you still hold to that theory? I realized I was
talking a little too fast. I was trying hard to hold on, but
memories of what I heard with my wife were running in my head, and
now I had bloody visuals to go with the sounds. Brent didn't answer.
He stood up. I need to go, think, he said. Then
he walked off, then around the corner. I assumed he was heading back
to his window. I just stood there and had this sense of vertigo and
unreality wash over me. I felt sure that the building was tilting to one
side. I felt sick too. What was there to do now? All
of us remaining on the floor just stood there and shock. The immediate reaction
was that we were all going to die. A lot of realizations probably slammed
home all at once. The fact we had limited food and no way to
go down to the street and get more. Being one of the prominent ones,
Jesus, I whispered. I realized there were others looking at me.
With Brent apparently mentally out to lunch for some reason, they had turned to
me. The first one to notice this, said Susan, one of our
designers. She peered at me through her glasses. I could see tears running
down her face, and I had never known her to cry. How did
you know? What did you see? I tried to answer, but my
voice would not come. I cleared my throat and quietly told my story again.
I told them about the weird things with the television, the odd feeling
in my gut, and the radio stations. Nothing seemed to make anyone feel
any better. Why would it if anything, I saw fear turn into some
kind of distrust toward me. Guys, it's not like I created this.
I held both hands out in front of me to fend off their stairs.
I must freaked out about this, as all of you. I lost my
wife, dammit. Some of them turned away then, but far too many
kept staring at me with intense eyes, accusatory eyes. I saw Lane and
Jay cold hands and walk away from the g their heads down. They were
never ones for PDA, especially not at work. But when the end of
the world crashed into the building where you worked, I guess decorum went out
the window. I moved away from them, all, back toward my easy
chair. I felt an odd pang, remembering how Jesse had sat in the
opposite chair just last night. Now she was gone. I stared out the
window. How could someone hate clouds? Well, I found I hated them.
I studied the white and gray mass below as it moved past the building.
It was an endless ocean of clouds, no breaks. Even the ocean
showed coral reefs and was broken up by islands and land. The night sky
had stars. Here there was nothing, I thought. Just for a moment,
I saw a shadow move within the clouds. My heart stopped for a
moment as my dream returned to my mind, a globe covered in this held
in the palm of some giant creature with a giant eye. When I leaned
forward to get a better look, there were just clouds. I studied the
other buildings nearby, one of them, across what should have been a bustling
city street, had a giant antenna. I could barely see the top of
the roof, and there were times a wave of clouds washed over it,
swallowing the base of that antenna. Yes, the clouds were getting higher,
slowly, slower than a lava flow, but it was happening. Eventually,
even this tall building would be swallowed by whatever this was. What was it?
It was hard to dispense with that question. Obviously, whatever was down
there was not just regular clouds. I knew I would likely never find the
answer to this question, but my brain kept returning to it again and again.
I looked around the room. In the distance, most of the rest
of the people stood around or sat down. I could hear people crying.
The realization this was happening. Something so completely insane but so deadly had truly
slammed home. I suspected there would be others who would decide to just head
down into the elevator for this all to end. It would be much faster
to vaporize in an instant than slowly starve to death here. Although the clouds
were climbing higher, given how slowly it was happening, the starvation was more
likely to happen first. I wasn't quite ready yet. Brent's words about this
being an alive thing that could be killed kept rolling through my mind. However,
to kill it, I needed to know more about it. I turned
my chair, stared hard out the window at the clouds. I folded my
arms across my chest. I watched, and I discovered something. The more
I stared at the clouds, the more I heard, or thought I heard
the clouds talking back to me. Voices began to fill my head in harsh
whispers. At first, the longer I stared, the louder the voices became,
the more urgent. The need just come down, feed us. We're
so hungry. Feed. It will be over so quick. So I write
this now. I wonder if it was imaginary. At the time, though
I was certain Brent was right, I thought whatever was out there was alive
in some former fashion, alive and hungry. I have this distinct thought it
was a group of entities moving from one place to the next, just devouring
all living matter. It all sounds crazy now, wishful thinking, perhaps an
attempt to put some kind of rationalization, no matter how crazy, on a
completely irrational event. Something snapped me out of my trance I wasn't sure what
it was, but when it happened, I had to go to the bathroom
very badly. My eyes dried out, as if I had not blinked for
hours. I was also very hungry. My legs were stiff, and as
I tried to stand up, they popped and groaned and nearly fell headfirst into
the windows in front of me. The world was quiet. I guessed it
was getting to be mid afternoon, but today even the sun seemed dimmer.
It felt like the entire universe was collapsing, dying, dimming and fading out.
Perhaps it was perhaps this thing was spreading out like in my dream,
devouring the other planets, but not finding anything of sustenance there. The floor
itself was quiet. Well. At first it seemed totally silent, but as
I listened I did hear sounds, steady sounds, and people moaning. Other
than that, there wasn't much, no crying or wailing. I walked slowly,
there was no need to hurry. In the kitchen area, people sat
around the table staring at nothing. A few were eating scraps of the leftovers
from the fridge. All of the faces looked lost, haunted, staring.
I wondered if they were also hearing the voices. I headed for the fridge
and saw there was some pizza left, but not much. I grabbed a
couple of the squares and ate them cold, standing right by the sink.
They tasted like cardboard, but they settled the grumbling in my stomach for the
time being. I walked away from the zombies and back toward where I had
been sitting. I turned the corner and headed toward the conference rooms and the
area beyond where there were more desks. I figured Brent would be there writing
on the windows, and maybe he'd come up with a theory. As I
rounded the corner and got to the part where the conference room stood, I
heard the moaning coming from the room in the corner. Although it had a
glass door, there was no way to see what was going on in there
without walking in and turning another corner. Judging by the sounds, there were
several people in there going at it whatever I thought and why not. I
was almost tempted to walk in and see who it was, but decided it
didn't matter much to me. I walked a little ways further and was nearly
past the smaller conference rooms when something out of the corner of my eye caught
me something on the floor behind the table near the corner of the room.
At first, I thought it might have just been a couple of people sleeping,
but something inside me told me it was more than that. I pushed
through the door. It was completely silent, not even any heavy breathing from
someone who was asleep. Hello, I asked, Hey, who's in here?
There was no response, so I stepped into the room and drew closer
to the shapes in the corner. As I got closer, the shapes took
on forms, and the forms became those I recognized. It was Jake and
Lane. They were next to each other, holding hands, very close to
one another. Neither of them was moving, and I stood there watching,
waiting to see them make some motion that would indicate they were alive. Nothing.
They weren't breathing. I knelt down and touched Lane's wrist, then Jake's.
Both were ice cold. As I studied the scene further, I saw
a nearly empty bottle of pills lying near their heads. Their eyes were closed,
and they looked as if they had just drifted off to sleep. No
convulsion, no vomiting, just sleep and then gone. There were still pills
in the bottom of the bottle. I picked it up and shook it.
Maybe half of a handful was left in there. I tucked it into my
pocket. I had no idea how bad things would get, but taking pills
and falling asleep would be better than starving to death? Was it better than
whatever happened in the elevator? I had no idea. But possibly, I'm
sorry, guys, I whispered, not entirely sure what I was apologizing for,
but feeling I needed to say something. Sleep well, I hope you're
on the other side together. That was a comforting thought for me. Go
to sleep and wake up somewhere else with my wife there waiting for me.
I exited the room and turned left. There were a few more people here,
sitting at the desks, just staring straight ahead. There were a few
other people on the floor sleeping. In the distance. At the far end
of the room was Brent Jesus. Brent had taken off his sport coat and
rolled up his shirt sleeves. Sure enough, he had a dry erase marker
and was writing on the windows. In fact, he had already written all
over the windows. As I drew closer. I tried to make out what
he had written. I realized as I got halfway there, Brent had pushed
past the area of sensible thought. That's a fancy way of me trying to
say Brent had gone bat shit crazy. What is it? That was the
first thing written near the top of the window. Is it alive? That
sentence was written just below the first. Then the window became a mass of
different colored markers. He had written things, then drawn lines through them.
There were half written theories which ended mid sentence. In other areas were more
lines ending in arrows, pointing to things around which he had drawn circles.
Brent was normally a very neat writer. However, at some point here his
scribbles had become frantic. I couldn't even make out words poison. I managed
to make that one out at the far side of one of the panes of
glass. It was over there by itself, without much else written around it
were these ideas for things that might kill whatever was below us voices. It
took me a moment to find another word I could recognize. The entire mass
of writing was like playing some puzzle game. Find the words among all of
this scribble. Perhaps Brent, I asked hesitantly. Brent turned and looked at
me, and when I saw his face, I knew a couple of things
instantly. First, he had definitely gone around the bend over the cliff and
fallen into utter insanity. The second was that he was definitely hearing the voices.
I tried to imagine what this was like for a man as logical as
Brent, For a man who could put the world in neat little boxes,
store them in the warehouse of his brain, and could tap into the information
whenever he wanted. This thing was something beyond understanding. He was trying so
hard to put this entire thing into boxes, but those must have been rupturing
and blowing apart. Each time that happened, more of his sanity went with
it. Hey, he said, but his voice was hoarse and cracked.
Hey, Brent, when was the last time you took a break? I
asked, trying to sound comforting and cajoling. Maybe you need to step away
and get something to drink. At least there's some food left. Brent's left
eye twitched. He chewed at his lower lip for a bit, as if
considering it. No, he said, at last, I don't think,
so I need to figure this out. I think I'm close. Have you
heard the voices? His eyes vibrated in their sockets. They were red and
bloodshot around the pupils and irises. Yes, I replied, do you understand
what they're trying to say? They're trying to tell us that this is alive.
What we're dealing with here is some kind of hive mind. The clouds
are a combination of billions and billions of smaller living things. The voices had
not told me any such thing, but maybe Brent had opened his mind up
to more things that I had. Still, what did this mean? What
does that tell us? Brent? I asked, Great, so it's a
hive mind, But how does that get us out of this? Brent's eyes
vibrated in their sockets, and he smiled. There is no getting out of
this. We're just food for them. The entire universe is just food for
them. They'll come for us. You can see it, I know you
can. You saw that the clouds are getting higher. They'll get here eventually
and eat us too. I didn't know how to respond. Obviously, Brent
had gone around the bend. As I leaned in, I realized there was
a foul smell coming from him. I didn't think insanity had a smell,
but I did think Brent had forgone going to the restroom when he needed to.
Okay, then I said, slowly backing away, let me know if
you come up with something else, something we can use. Just keep this
in mind, Brent's said, Jake and Lane might have had the right idea.
Keep that in mind. Brent stood up and looked around until he found
something on the desk. I was still walking backwards, unable to process what
was happening. Yes, I think they have the right idea, Brent said,
his voice getting higher than I had ever heard it in the past.
They have the right idea. I realized he had a pen in his right
hand, but what happened was too fast for me to do anything. He
shoved the pen into his neck and twisted until the blood shot from the open
wound across the room and all over the floor. The right idea, He
just kept saying it as the blood drained from him, and he eventually staggered
and fell to the floor. Once there, he twitched a few more times
and then lay still. I wanted to scream, I mean, wouldn't you
However, the horror of what I had just seen seemed to pale in comparison
to the horror all around us. I felt my gorge rise and ran to
the restroom, just in time to throw up the little bits of pizza I
had eaten earlier into the sink. People fucking their lives away in one area,
at least three people committing suicide in another, outside and below us.
The end of the fucking world, Christ hive mind. I thought. Brent
was sure the voices were telling him this, but what use was it.
I pulled the bottle of pills I had taken from Lane's body earlier and studied
them. Just pills to help you get by until you took too many of
them and they became poison. I felt hot and feverish. I felt like
the floor beneath me was unbalanced, and I had the overwhelming feeling of wanting
to stagger against the wall. I knew I was having some kind of panic
attack, but what good would that do to anyone? I held on to
the sink and stared at my face. The world was filled with the sound
of billions of voices. I could hear them all, all of the billions,
and trillions of tiny living particles that made up the fog or clouds or
whatever the fuck they were, all of them telling me to just give up.
Either lay down and die right here, or just come down, Come
on down, come down and see what lay beyond the veil. Stop.
I yelled and put both hands to my ears, as if that would stop
the voices in my head. It did cause them to dim. I closed
my eyes tight, waited for things to stabilize beneath me. When I opened
them again, my red face stared back with bloodshot eyes. In fact,
blood trickled from my right nostril. I wiped it away without a thought,
then washed my hands and face. Once my face was no longer smeared with
blood, I exited the bathroom. I turned away from the gore on the
floor to my right and headed back toward the conference rooms. As I got
near the orgy room, one of the female designers strutted out, her eyes
dreamy, her clothing a bit askew. She did not look altogether there,
and I had to wonder if other drugs besides the one Lane and Jake had
used were being passed around. Probably, but who cared? At this point,
trillions upon trillions of tiny living things who only existed to devour. Certainly
there had been people on the planet who were on drugs, or had cancer
or something that would have caused them to die having been consumed. However,
I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if I were to take the pills
remaining in Lane's bottle and then offer myself up as a meal. I tried
to remember what happened within beehives. I supposed there were no more bee hives
right now. Strange thought. It wasn't entirely like if you poisoned one bee
you could kill the entire hive. But it did work that way with ants.
You got one of those scouts covered in poison ant bait, and it
took it back to the nest and got everyone else. I wondered for the
first time if maybe the trillions of little creatures out there eating everything were actually
already sick. I tried to imagine the thousands and thousands of people out there
on medications, with cancerous tumors, poisoned livers, the people with blood diseases
and other problems, all of them consumed by these tiny things, and perhaps
they were sick too. The voices did not tell me one way or the
other. I wonder if anyone else had heard anything. Apparently Brent had not.
I stood there at the window again, looking out at the clouds,
no higher than earlier, but I could almost feel them creeping their way up
the side of the building. They were never satiated, endless hunger. I
realized at some point I was holding the bottle of pills in my hand.
I looked down at it. I wondered if there were enough pills in there
to even do the job I needed it to do. The office was silent,
The world was silent. I couldn't, of course, hear exactly what
was going on outside, but even at this height, we could always hear
horns, the kids on the corner binging on plastic bucket, drum sets for
spare change, and sirens. Realized I hadn't heard anything like that for a
couple days. Now. I imagined, if I could get up on the
roof of the building, the world would be silent. No birds, not
a dog barking, just the sound of the wind against my ears and the
voices in my head. Those voices, they were constant now, but they
were telling me to just sit down, relax, let them come to me.
As I looked around at the others, all sitting there staring at nothing,
I wondered, if they had just given in and listened, they would
sit there until they starved, died of thirst, or just waited until the
fog reached them. I sighed, ready to sit there with them, but
I had to try something. How far was I willing to go didn't matter.
I decided to find some paper in a printer not far from where Brent
had bled all over the office. I stepped in tacky, sticky dried blood
to find it, but then sat down at one of the desks and started
writing. I wrote out everything that has happened until now. By the time
I was done, it was dark out, and I decided it was time
to get some sleep. Day three. I woke up this morning and everything
was silent, more so than before. I got up and walked around again.
Everyone was just sitting or laying on the floor, eyes wide, staring
at nothing. I could hear the voices in my head telling me to do
the same. I even ventured into the orgy room to find four naked people,
entwined but immobile. As I walked back to the desk. One of
the zombie people turned his head and looked at me. It was so strange.
Just sit down and relax, their voice said, in an odd monotone,
Just sit down and let this all happen. Fuck you, I replied.
So here I sit, just wasting time, resisting the voices, just
thinking, delaying. I never wanted to be in this life I have now.
I never wanted to work for a big corporation, or spend my days
in an endless drive from the suburbs to downtown, endless hours in the car
and away from my wife, who was gone now along with the rest of
the world. I just wanted to tell stories from the earliest days of my
life. That was all I wanted. I wanted to write and tell stories
to people. I guess that's what I'm doing now. But who knows who
will ever read it? Do I think that some alien civilization will show up
and eventually read this? Maybe, some narcissistic part of me thinks. So
it's still early, the sun is just coming up over the horizon. I
guess this is the end of the story. Right, Well, here's my
plan, as stupid and useless as this might actually be. In the end.
The plan is to take the rest of the pills, then wait until
I feel them starting to take effect. Hopefully I don't fuck it all up
and wait too late, but have it together enough to summon one of the
elevators. Then I head down and hopefully poison the hive. Will it matter?
Probably not. Just one person will not be enough to wipe out the
hive, But maybe just one more person among the thousands of others the hive
eight and we're sick might do something. Maybe I'd at least make a few
of those fuckers sick. It's not much of a plan, I get it.
If you do read this centuries from now, just realize I understand this
doesn't do anything to accomplish much. However, when you sit here and face
the end of the world, you want to hit back, even if you
just give the behemoth a bloody nose before it smashes you to pieces. I
am just trying to give the giant a bloody nose. I took the pills
about ten minutes ago and starting to feel drowsy. If I don't go now,
maybe it won't even give the giant a bloody nose. We were people
and a civilization, and we had hopes and dreams. Maybe most of us
had dreams and plans to make things better then this happened. Don't judge us
too harshly. I've got an elevator to catch. What do you think?
Did our narrator make the right decision? What would you do? There may
be no good answer. There usually are just more questions. When the sun
vanishes, the star come out, the monsters awaken, when the night comes
out. You've been listening to When the Night Comes Out, a weekly horror
anthology podcast with stories by Brian w Alaspa and narrated and produced by Ali James,
music by Viveka Bishek. For Brian's work, visit his website at Brianwalaspa
dot com or visit Amazon dot com to find his books of fiction and nonfiction.
Find Ali's work on Facebook at Ali James Projects, and don't forget to
visit our website to figure out how to support us on Patreon. Thanks for
another great season and we'll see you next time When the Night Comes Out.