Col sat on the ground, stunned, his mouth hanging open like a statue frozen mid-thought. For at least five minutes, he didn’t move, didn’t blink, as if his brain couldn’t quite process the enormity of what he was seeing. His body had registered the pain of falling hard, but the sight in front of him had rendered it irrelevant—a gnawing ache in his thigh as his hand gingerly rubbed the bruise forming there. Yet, all of that paled in comparison to the surreal spectacle that had knocked him flat.
He’d stormed out of the hotel, seething with anger, ready to tear someone apart over the mess of the day. But what awaited him outside had stripped all that rage away in a single heartbeat. Now, he stood transfixed, staring at the thing that stretched out before him: an impossible wall. A wall of monstrous proportions.
Col finally closed his mouth, noticing his tongue felt rough and dry, like sandpaper. He tried to moisten it, his lips smacking together uselessly as he attempted to swallow back the desert that had suddenly formed in his throat. With effort, he rose to his feet, his legs feeling oddly weak beneath him. He took a tentative step forward, drawn toward the wall by some inexplicable compulsion.
The wall towered before him—slightly off-white, not quite metal, not quite stone—stretching upward so far that it seemed to dissolve into the sky. It loomed over everything, blocking the sidewalk just outside the hotel entrance. No ordinary wall could reach such heights. For all Col knew, this thing could extend beyond the clouds, beyond the atmosphere, maybe even beyond the earth itself.
It wasn’t just the size that disturbed him, though. There was something unnatural about the wall—an odd sensation that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He moved his eyes along its length, noticing how it cut through the landscape like a surgical incision, severing the world into neat, incomprehensible sections. The buildings that once flanked the hotel now seemed to bend inward toward the wall, boxing him in with no apparent way out.
Instinctively, Col stretched out his hand, fingertips trembling as they moved closer to the smooth surface. He hesitated for a moment. If he touched it, maybe it would prove that all this was real—or maybe it would confirm the opposite, that he’d gone mad, and none of this was happening. Bracing himself, he finally let his fingers brush against the wall.
He recoiled instantly, shivering as if he’d touched ice. The surface was far colder than anything should be, even in the shade of this strange, towering structure. Taking a breath, Col reached out again, this time pressing his palm fully against the surface. It felt metallic, almost like iron, but the color was all wrong. There was no sheen, no reflective quality to it. Just a sickly, matte off-white.
Digging into his pocket, Col pulled out a few coins and began scraping one against the wall, trying to peel back the surface, expecting to reveal some shiny metal underneath. But as he worked furiously, pressing so hard that his fingers turned white with the effort, the wall remained untouched—unblemished. Instead, the coin wore down, the edges filed smooth by the friction.
“What... is this?” he muttered to himself, stepping back to take it all in again. His mind raced through possibilities, but nothing made sense. How could such a structure have appeared overnight? He scanned the rest of the street—or rather, what remained of it. The wall had sealed off everything in front of him. To his left and right, the nearby buildings blocked off any escape. It was as though the hotel had been deliberately trapped inside this enormous box.
A chill ran down his spine. Had there been some kind of emergency? A quarantine, perhaps? Was Hartlepool the epicenter of some disaster? He couldn’t remember hearing anything about an evacuation, but then again, he had been sleeping. Maybe they had missed him, left him behind while everyone else was safely on the other side of this... barrier.
But why build a wall of such insane proportions? Col’s thoughts stumbled over themselves as panic began to gnaw at the edges of his mind. He punched the wall in frustration, the dull thud of his fist barely registering against the immensity of the structure.
His gaze flicked upwards again. The sun should have been visible over the horizon, but there was no sign of it. Yet, the sky was still bathed in light—bright, almost too bright. He squinted, straining to make sense of it. Where was the sun? There was no source of illumination, yet everything around him was perfectly lit, the sky a clear blue, as if nothing were wrong at all.
His breath quickened. Where was this light coming from?
Turning on his heel, Col hurried back into the hotel, his mind spinning. The destruction he’d caused in the lobby earlier caught his eye, and for a fleeting moment, he couldn’t help but smirk. Despite the insanity of his current situation, there was a twisted satisfaction in the mess he’d made. But the self-congratulation was short-lived. The eerie silence of the hotel pulled his attention back to the present.
"Hello? Is anybody here?" he called out, his voice echoing through the empty lobby. The sound bounced back to him, amplifying his sense of isolation. No response. It was as though the entire hotel had been abandoned. Maybe everyone had been evacuated, and he was the only fool still here, completely unaware of whatever crisis had occurred.
The elevator doors slid open at the press of a button, the soft hum of elevator music greeting him. Col hesitated for a second before shaking his head and pressing the button to close the doors. "No point going back upstairs," he muttered to himself. "I could waste hours searching the rooms."
If the front of the hotel was sealed, maybe there was another way out—a back door, a side exit, something. He grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall as he passed by and smashed it into the padlock barring his way into the café. The metal clanged, and the lock shattered. Col stepped inside, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. A faint green glow caught his attention—a small light in the door behind the service counter.
“Exit sign,” he murmured, that thin-lipped smile returning. He wasn’t losing his touch. As he made his way toward the door, the hotel’s internal klaxon blared to life, the shrill sound vibrating through the walls and shaking the few cups still perched on the counters. Panic surged through him.
“Shit!” Col spat, his heart racing as fast as his mind. Were they going to knock the building down, sterilize it against whatever they had quarantined the building for. He was in danger.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
Without a second thought, he barreled toward the door, crashing through the panic bars and tumbling out into the alley behind the hotel. For the second time that day, he found himself sprawled on the ground, the hard pavement bruising his already sore limbs. But this time, it wasn’t just the pain that floored him—it was the sight of the sky above.
The beautiful blue sky he had seen earlier was gone. In its place, a hellish crimson light heaved across the horizon, casting everything in a devilish glow. Shadows danced and flickered along the buildings, creating jagged, demonic shapes that seemed to leap from corner to corner.
This was it. Col’s mind raced. This was how he was going to die. Whatever this was—this wall, this red sky—it was all part of some massive disaster. And he was right in the middle of it, trapped, forgotten. No one knew he was here. No one would come to save him.
His breath came in ragged bursts as he clambered to his feet, slipping on a pile of trash bags as he stumbled forward. He wasn’t going to die here. Not like this. He was too smart for that. He’d find a way out, even if it killed him.
He staggered toward what looked like a doorway in one of the warped, twisted buildings nearby. The structure seemed off—its walls angled unnaturally, like a bad optical illusion—but Col didn’t care. He just needed to escape. He threw himself through the door, his mind buzzing with desperation, hoping that on the other side, there was something that made sense.
Something that wasn’t this nightmare.
Col squinted as he stepped into the room, momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness. As his vision adjusted, he found himself inside what appeared to be a workshop. At first glance, it looked like a garage, but something was unsettlingly pristine. Tools and machinery were arranged neatly on workstations, computers displayed streams of data, and the air carried a faint metallic smell mingled with something chemical, perhaps oil.
But it was the cleanliness that caught Col’s attention. The floor gleamed, polished to an unnatural, reflective white, without so much as a scuff mark. The walls and ceiling were made of the same smooth, sterile material—everything in the room appeared almost clinical. Col wasn’t one for manual labor, but even he knew that garages didn’t look like this. The tools were bizarre—some recognizable like a hammer and a screwdriver, but others defied logic. One particular device looked like a transparent horseshoe, with an embedded grip and a switch. Curiosity overcame his instinct to run.
He picked it up, gripping the smooth surface, and flicked the switch. Instantly, the ends of the device hummed to life, glowing an intense electric blue. A ball of energy shot from its tips, faster than Col could react, slamming into the far wall. Instead of an explosion of debris, the wall seemed to absorb the impact, vaporizing into a fine, shimmering mist.
Col dropped the device in a panic, stepping back from it as his heart pounded in his chest. What the hell is going on? Did I just vaporize part of the wall with that thing? His mind raced as he walked toward the now open section of the wall, the eerie red light from outside flooding into the room. He peered through the gap. In the sky above, a distant light grew steadily larger, moving toward him.
Is it rescue? Col’s spirits rose as he started shouting and waving his arms wildly. "Over here! Help, I’m here!" He jumped up and down, desperate to be noticed. He couldn’t die here—not after whatever madness had taken place in Hartlepool.
Lost in his frantic hopes, he didn’t notice the shadowy figure creeping toward him from the corner of the workshop. Without warning, the figure tackled him, slamming him to the ground. Both bodies tumbled across the cold floor, limbs entangled until Col found himself pinned beneath a woman’s weight.
"Shut up, you fool! You’ll get us both erased!" a voice hissed, a hand clamped over his mouth.
Col’s anger flared. He wasn’t about to be told to shut up by anyone, especially after everything that had happened today. With a grunt, he twisted his body, flinging the woman off of him and sending her skidding across the polished floor.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Col demanded, pushing himself up to his feet and dusting himself off.
The woman didn’t reply. She quickly rose and moved with purpose, heading toward a sleek, streamlined craft positioned near the back of the room. Col's eyes followed her as she approached what looked like an advanced vehicle. It wasn’t some clunky fighter jet"—this was a sleek, metallic craft that looked designed for function and speed.
The vehicle’s surface was matte black, its aerodynamic frame composed of interlocking, lightweight alloys that seemed to shift hues under the light—adaptive camouflage, perhaps? Its shape resembled a flattened teardrop, wider at the base with sharp angles and a narrow tip where small thrusters were integrated into the hull. A series of small ion drive nozzles, barely visible, lined the rear, suggesting this was designed for both high-speed atmospheric travel and zero-gravity maneuverability. It floated silently on a cushion of magnetic repulsion, hovering inches above the floor.
Without a word, the woman slid open an access hatch near the side of the craft and disappeared inside. Col’s temper boiled again—how dare she ignore him?
"I said, who the hell do you think you are?" he yelled, taking a step forward. But again, she offered no reply, simply preparing the craft for departure.
The vehicle emitted a low hum as the repulsion systems activated. It lifted slightly higher off the ground, stabilizing as the thrusters flickered to life. Col could see small displays lighting up inside the cockpit as the woman adjusted controls with methodical precision.
"Hey, wait!" Col shouted, his anger briefly overridden by a survival instinct. "What’s going on? Who are you?"
This time, the woman leaned out of the cockpit, glaring at him. "Look, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. But if you don’t get in here right now and keep your mouth shut, we’re both going to get erased. You think that little stunt with the explosion went unnoticed? We need to get out of here. Now."
Col hesitated, his pride clashing with the cold reality of her words. He didn’t like being told what to do, but he liked the idea of being "erased" even less.
"My name’s Naomi, by the way," she continued impatiently, "and you need to decide if you’re coming with me or not." She ducked back inside the craft, clearly ready to leave him behind if necessary.
Col clenched his fists. How could she be so dismissive? Sure, she might be right, but no one talked to him like that.
But when the craft's thrusters kicked into a higher pitch, clearly preparing for departure, Col made his decision.
"Wait! I’m coming!" he shouted, rushing toward the craft. With a grunt, he grabbed the edge of the access hatch and hauled himself up into the cockpit.
Naomi gave him a sidelong glance but said nothing as she sealed the hatch. The interior was as streamlined as the exterior, with a minimalist control panel displaying an array of holographic readouts. The seats were molded to the shape of the body, designed for maximum comfort and efficiency during high-speed travel.
"Strap in," Naomi ordered, flicking a series of switches. "This won’t be a smooth ride."
Col barely had time to secure his harness before the craft shot forward, blasting through the hole in the wall and out into the crimson sky with a high-pitched whine. The acceleration pinned him to his seat, and through the viewport, the world outside blurred into streaks of red as they sped away from whatever danger was lurking behind.