What if the world end on 2012? (Started on June 20, 2008)
The silent avenue waited patiently for sunrise to arrive. The air was stagnant, perfectly calm, and it felt as though it was eager to suffocate anyone who dared to take an extra breath. There was little life on the streets, except for the lone vagabond who always slept on the same weathered bench in the park, out shivering in the cold night. The street lights flickered, emitting only enough light for one to faintly see the path back home. Visibility was low and it was barely possible to see beyond the shadows lurking in some dark corner of the alley. Everything appeared to be tranquil on the surface, yet there was this indescribable tension beneath it all, that ominous insecurity that people experienced when things seemed peaceful.
Henry woke up from his slumber with a start and found himself heaving heavily, jewel-like drops of perspiration dripping down from his forehead, outlining the strong cheeks that so characterised his fearful countenance. He looked as though he were frightened by a terrible, yet surreal nightmare that had threatened to keep him in that hellish realm for eternity. His eyes remained transfixed, staring at the empty ceiling of his bedroom, behaving in a trance-like state. He shoke his head, attempting to regain control over himself, his steady hands wiping off the sweat from his forehead, and sat by his bed motionless.
After a moment, he stood up and walked over to the dressing table, withdrew a cigarette and lighted it. As he tried to regain his composure from the appalling shock, he decided to walk over to the balcony to catch a breath of fresh air, wondering about that odd dream he had had just now. It felt extremely real, almost lifelike, and he feared not being able to get out of it. For once, he questioned if he were going insane, yet comforted at the same time that whatever he had experienced then was in fact just a dream.
He looked out of the balcony, trying to spot any activity that might spark some curiosity in him. The night looked as beautiful as always. Pure serenity. He loved the night more than the day, because the entire city could be so much more noisy even when the sun had not fully risen. This short span of time between nightfall and sunrise was when he could enjoy the peace and quietness of his busy life, and he was quite relieved that there was still some time left before the next day.
The clock struck midnight. It was the year 2012.
- peng -
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He inhaled the chill of the night air and shivered. Rubbing his palms, he decided it was too cold to stay out. His temples still throbbed with pain as he recalled the nightmare.
In the nightmare, he wandered aimlessly. Almost like a lifeless corpse, he prowled the Manhattan streets for a living soul. There was none. The whole world seemed devoid of anything living. His footsteps echoed through the streets, with loneliness slowly creeping into him. However, he seemed oblivious to the sky which had turned crimson red.
Suddenly, he stopped. Blood stains coated the dusty pavement before him. As a homicide detective, blood was a common sight for him. However, he backed away instinctively this time.
The blood stains formed a message. REV:8:10. Written hastily, it appeared that the dead had something urgent to say.
Unknown fear gripped him. His throat went dry as he turned and fled. He knew the code.
The Book of Revelations. Chapter Eight. The time of the Great Tribulation.
Some people call it Judgment Day.
Others called it Apocalypse.
Armageddon.
The end of ends.
- wenshen -
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Trying to shake off the clammy grip of the nightmare, Henry paced the length of his balcony, drawing heavily on his cigarette.
It was just a dream. Nothing but a particularly vivid, uncanny, stupid dream. What were dreams after all, but vapour and mist? Reflections of the mind in its labyrithine wanderings. Nothing to do with reality.
The reality was, he was getting worked up over nothing.
Absolutely nothing...
It was midnight on New Year's Day.
Why didn't he hear any fireworks, any raucous celebrations, any people hailing the new beginning?
Where were the shouts of joy and mirth, of festive cheer for this rebirth?
As he listened, the silence seemed to deepen and press on his eardrums.
Where was everyone else?
A shadow detached itself from the darkness cloaking the opposite end of the street and glided unseen to the foot of Henry's apartment block.
- jean -
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Henry lay on the couch in his well-furnished living room, listening attentively to Massenet's Meditations from the Thais, while trying to drift back into sleep. This room was one of his favourites; he had spent much effort carefully designing it to create the relaxing atmosphere that was so important in maintaining his luxurious lifestyle amidst his hectic work.
Perhaps reading a book would help him get to sleep better, he thought to himself.He stood up and ambled to the bookshelf, trying to pick a bedtime read. Plato's Republic should serve this purpose well. Philosophy had never been his forte. Nevertheless, this was one of the books one should possess in order to project the image of being intellectual. He returned to his couch and began to read.
There was an urgent, insistent knock on the door.
Who could it be? An unexpected visitor at such an unearthly time of night.
Henry peeked through the peephole and was almost astonished by what he saw. Standing by the door was a lady, who looked monstrous. There was something that resembled a head, but it was too oversized relative to her body. Her brown eyes were huge and had a piercing stare. The nose was too small to be noticeable and lips so well-curved that it didn't fit well with the rest. Long hair was strewn all over her face, and Henry had difficulty identifying her.
He rubbed his eyes instinctively, thinking his sight was playing a trick on him. Indeed it was. All that he saw was just the distorted view of a familiar face through the peephole.
He opened the door. It was Shannon.
- peng -
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