[T: Minus 1 Hour]
There is a wall. A large mountain that spreads in a line, endless. Running for miles on end, with no end in sight. It is relatively smooth, craggy in only some places. Its color is that of dry dirt, a surface so dry looking, that just by looking at it could make moisture disappear. A forest lies just beneath it, running along its edge. And within that forest, right along the wall is a clearing.
The forest bristles with the breeze, the leaves flowing, some flying. There is a calm as the only sound that could be heard is the sound of the leaves rustling against each other. The light from the sun is mild and the air is cool.
There is no wildlife. The forest is empty. There are no birds, no squirrels, no insects. There is nothing. The only signs of life are the trees themselves, and the grass beneath them.
The empty clearing boasts a sight of tranquil fertility, grass as tall as your ankles, all green and healthy, its blades tilting with the direction of the wind.
The clouds in the sky move, providing shade, its shadows moving along the clearing, gray.
And within the clearing, a hill rises, a slight elevation, enough to overlook and stand above the land. High enough to obscure the sight of someone in front of it, from the sights of someone standing behind that hill, but not high enough to tower over the trees that surround the hill from all around.
The sun peeks behind the clouds. Light shines onto the clearing. Several beams interrupt the gray. Slowly the clouds move on, until the shades of gray drift, shedding light across the whole of the clearing, its grass praising the sun, the source of its sustenance.
And high above them all, as high as the wall, the peaks of the mountain look. It sees itself, its never ending line. For miles and miles the mountain wall runs. It doesn’t end. It creates a box. A mountain box. And trapped in between, within that mountain box is a world, life, separate from everything outside of that box, with only the rivers and the streams running, their flows connecting, life, to everything outside and inside, that mountain box.
[T: Zero Hour]
From the sky, beyond the clouds, many beams of light emerge. Golden and thick, they hit the ground, all in different locations within the mountain box. One hits the hill. The hill atop the clearing. A glade within the forest. The forest hugging the wall's edge.
And from within that beam of light, so thick and golden that nothing within could be seen, figures emerge. Figures of humanoid form.
The first of humans emerge from that light, the sights of the world striking them with stupidity. They stare bewildered. Uncertain. They have no words. Their eyes are wide and their mouths are open. And behind them more humans come out of the light. And more. And more. And over time a crowd has come through, Brought forth through that giant beam of light.
As some people come to terms with their fate they chatter amongst themselves.
“Anyone know what’s going on?”
“Why are we here?”
“Where are we?”
“How did we get here?”
These are common questions asked here and there, and none have answers. They only have questions.
[T: 3 Hours]
A few hours have passed, and none knows anything of their predicament. Some decide to wander off, exploring the forest. Many decide to stick together, preferring to stay close to the beam of light, rather than going beyond the clearing, into the unknown.
Concerns start to occur.
“Do we have food?”
“Do we have water?”
Groups form as people seek assurance in their safety, the only thing they can do in order to feel a semblance of peace within the chaotic clashing of their emotions. They feel helpless and this frightens them; so used to being in control of their lives. So sure and certain they were in their past. And now? Now they have nothing; can do nothing. All they have are the clothes on their backs and memories of their past. And yet this fear of being helpless, still isn’t enough for them to move forward, to take charge of their lives, content to wait it out, until help arrives. Help that might never come.
[T: Zero Hour]
A cavern within an unknown place. Light shines into the middle of the cavern from an unknown source. The Light reveals a sarcophagus. The sarcophagus opens.
Out rises from the sarcophagus a skeleton. The skeleton is not made of bone. It is sculpted from a metallic material shaped into the shapes of bones. The metallic material is the color of obsidian and it gleams in the light. The Obsidian Skeleton climbs out of the sarcophagus. It takes a moment to absorb the information regarding its surroundings. It finds nothing of special note. The Obsidian Skeleton exits the cavern that was its tomb.
[T: 5 Hours]
A hand in the darkness. It holds up a single coin; a coin almost transparent, clouded with a foggy, silvery-bluish color. A faint light of this silvery-bluish color emanates from the coin. The hand holds it up, clutching it. Surrounded by darkness, the faint light from the coin sheds shape to the owner of the hand; a hooded figure.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
A rustling noise. Then the appearance of several more hands, and behind these hands more hooded figures, holding similar coins of their own. These figures, face each other in a circle, and raise the coins forward, to something unknown, in the center of the circle.
[T: 5 Hours]
Amongst the waves of new arrivals, military personnel start to stream in as well, all in full combat gear, as if they were just on a battlefield. They are just as confused, having a mystified expression upon arrival, then treating the surrounding landscape with prejudice, showing just how concerning the situation is. If the military is treating this like it's a potential warzone, what are the normal people supposed to do? There’s nowhere to run to. There’s no shelter. There’s nothing.
The few soldiers that arrive in the beginning are reluctant to be helpful, as civilians pester them with questions, “Ma’am I really don’t know what’s going on myself… I’m just a corporal. You’ll have to ask my Sergeant. Where is he? I don’t know. He’s not here. No ma’am, I’m not in charge. No, I don’t know who’s in charge. Yes, I am the highest rank here.”
Then a Sergeant arrives. He simply walks out of the beam of light. The corporal stands up, approaches and salutes. And the Sergeant asks, “What’s going on here?”
“No idea, Sergeant. We just got here ourselves.”
“Where are we? Do you know?”
“No, Sergeant.”
“Well, what do you know?!”
“I know that our radios are not working, we can’t contact HQ, along with our phones. We have been unable to get in contact with anybody. We are also in the middle of nowhere. I- I-”, the man stutters as he thinks of something else to say, “I also know that we know nothing else Sergeant!”
“Whose in charge here?”
“That would be you, Sergeant.”
“That’s just fucking great”.
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“Are you giving me lip corporal?!”
“No, Sergeant!”
The Sergeant takes a moment to look at the corporal, who gives him a blank and indifferent face. The Sergeant then waves his hand towards the group soldiers, behind the corporal, “This all?”
The corporal turns around to where the Sergeant is indicating to. When he realizes the Sergeant is asking if this is all the soldiers there are, he turns back around, “Yes, Sergeant. Five of us in total. Six, including you.”
“And you all just got here?”
“Yes Sergeant”.
Just then a new group of arrivals appear from the hill and among that group of new arrivals are two men in combat gear, striding down, a black man and a hispanic man. The sergeant looks up, then turns to the corporal. “Well aren’t you lucky that a Master Sergeant and a 1rst Sergeant are coming down to save our asses.”
“Yes Sergeant.”
“What’s that, corporal? You sayin’ that I’m not qualified to lead? Is that what I’m hearin’?”
“No, Sergeant.”
“Then what are you sayin’?”
“Nothing Sergeant. You are a qualified leader and your mother would be very proud of you, Sergeant.”
“What’s that about my momma, corporal?”
“Nothing, Sergeant. I didn’t say anything, Sergeant.”
“Ok, then. Come with me.”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
Sergeant and Corporal meet up with the two other Sergeants and both the Sergeant and Corporal salute the two men, which the two Sergeants reciprocate. The black 1rst. Sergeant coolly asks, “What’s going on here?”, as if somehow ending up in a strange, unfamiliar place was nothing new. The hispanic Master Sergeant scans the tree line, squinting.
“Honestly, 1rst Sergeant, I only know that our radios and phones don’t work. That’s just about as much as I can tell you.” The 1rst Sergeant clicks on his radio and an audible *bleep* is heard. The Master Sergeant stops scanning the treeline and turns to look at the 1rst Sergeant. The 1rst Sergeant politely turns around, takes a couple of steps away. The Master Sergeant looks at the Sergeant.
“So who is in charge, Sergeant?”
The Sergeant and Corporal exchange a look. In the background the 1rst Sergeant is trying to get a response from the radio. The radios of the Master Sergeant, Sergeant and the Corporal come alive, all repeating the words of the 1rst Sergeant. The Sergeant’s eyes shift to the radio of the Master Sergeant, then back to the Master Sergeant's face. The Sergeant grimaces and says, “That would be you Masta-Sergeant.”
The 1rst Sergeant who excused himself, gives up on the radio and takes out his phone. He takes a look at it, looks at the sky, then looks back at the phone. He tries to wave it around. Nothing happens. The Master Sergeant is just looking at the Sergeant and the Corporal, when the 1rst Sergeant rejoins the group. The Master Sergeant squints at the 1rst Sergeant.
“They said I’m in charge”.
“The radio works but no one’s answering”.
“They said I’m in charge”.
“Phone has no signal”.
The Master Sergeant stares at the 1rst Sergeant with squinted eyes.
The 1rst Sergeant stops and looks back, “What? You look like you just ate shit.”
“I did eat shit”, the Master Sergeant answers matter of factly, “ I’m in charge.”
“Yeah, I heard you the first time. Phone doesn’t have a signal. Radio works, but no one is answering”.
“So no one is around and we’re alone”.
“Which puts you in charge”.
The Master Sergeant turns back to the Sergeant and Corporal, “Any of you did anything?” The Sergeant looks at the Corporal and the Corporal doesn’t have the face of someone who understood what the Master Sergeant said. “Like any of you did some recon? Checked out the area a little?”
The Corporal shakes his head and the Sergeant answers, “No, Massa-Sergeant. I think I mentioned it, or maybe I didn’t, but we just arrived.”
The Master Sergeant nods repeatedly, looking around the clearing and starts pacing around a little, no longer looking at the Sergeant and Corporal, his head bouncing up and down as he nods. “Ok. Ok.” He paces a little more, the eyes of all three men following him. The Master Sergeant turns around and looks at both the Sergeant and Corporal, “You know- I think me and the 1rst Sergeant will go that way”, as he points east with his index finger, “ recon that eastern portion, right along that mountain wall. Just, set up like a position, one man, along the edges of the clearing; like south, southeast, southwest, and west. Try to advise civilians to stay in the clearing.”
The Corporal asks, “Do we try to stop them?”
The Master Sergeant looks around, waving at the large number of civilians, “You think you can stop them? Just advise them. We don’t have the people to stop them. We don’t have the people to do anything. Just advise them”.
As the 1rst Sergeant and Master Sergeant walk off, the Sergeant looks at the Corporal.
“Well you heard him”.
“Yes, Sergeant”.
“Oh by the way, Corporal-”.
“Yes, Sergeant”.
“ That mountain-”.
“Yes, Sergeant”.
“Nothing, Corporal. Carry on.”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
The Corporal walks off to command his squad members to station themselves at the directed positions around the glade and the Sergeant continues looking at the cliffs behind him. As he scans the portion of the mountain wall, all the way, as far as the eye can see, from the north-east, and to the south-east, the Sergeant murmurs, “Why the fuck does this mountain look like its a manmade, ninety-degrees angled cliff that goes on forever. That’s not natural. It’s like the wall of China or something”. The Sergeant stares at the mountain wall that’s just too perfect to be natural, like it was a wall sculpted by the hand of God, six hundred feet high