The town of Frigateville isn't known for much. Its western neighbor Brighton might be, but who cares. Its only real saving grace as a destination is its location. Far enough from civilization to be quaint, but close enough to the west coast hub city of Kadia to at least be a cheap vacation spot. With a year round population of around fifty thousand it's sustainable for how little it offers. Mostly enough shops to keep a stable variety. As for the people, most everyone knows each other. And for the safety conscious, almost no incidents have occurred in its decade’s long history. Not even residually. But still, it…

“This pamphlet is really honest... but sparse.”

Six weeks had passed since the Ark fell, and that time was not wasted. Seth had scrounged together every bit of dry goods and canned food he could from what was left of his town. His mattress fort was extensive, boasting two whole stories and a pillow moat. And the water system still worked despite the weeks’ worth of negligence, yet it was clear it was stagnating. The voices for their part had helped ration and plan out every move he made. Set meals and pre planned routes to scavenge efficiently. Have to burn through the perishables before they mold and get too warm.

Outside of surviving, they helped him focus and understand his abilities little by little. Before, only one voice could be heard at a time, like a narrow spotlight on a stage. Now that spotlight could encompass a few individuals, and no conflicting noise would result.

‘I never really knew the town was that big, but then again I… I don’t think I ever explored much.’

In these six weeks of waiting Seth had learned little of what had happened, or who the voices were beyond their names. Speaker kept saying it was to prevent him from getting distracted, but it didn’t stop him from creating better names for the voices than just poorly translated titles.

“You’d at least expect to see something on the town’s history. Maybe a little more about what the town even has in it.”

Threat, the first voice, had taken back his spot as his direct contact again, and was focused on being Seth’s go-to for these weeks of physical isolation. He always sounded guilty, like he was doing this with a broader purpose rather than just companionship. But in the end Seth didn’t care much for that, it was just nice to fill in the silence he was perpetually living with.

‘I guess they just wanted to keep the bulk of the tourists at bay.’

Because for the entire time since the event, there hadn’t been anything living making noise. No returning birds, no insects, even the thunder in the distance had gone away completely. In a lot of ways the silence was deafening, and wearing down at Seth’s resolve. No rescue, no signals from TV or radio, even the internet was down. Though blowing the entire town’s electrical system didn’t help. The only saving grace to Seth’s boredom was his powers.

The voices taught him to control the flow of electricity slowly, but surely. By now he could light up any room he entered, literally, and keep any electronics working without batteries or wires, but this had limits. The most obvious being there was no more outside power to harness, so the only electricity they had on hand was the buildup from the first day. The voices were curating and rationing that to, just so there was always a supply. But it was clear they used it as well for their own reasons most of the time. Their situation wasn’t dire, but rescue was looking to be a long way off.

“Looks like there really is only one road in and out, unless you want to walk through the forest for a few days?”

‘No! No... I… I never liked going in there. Let’s just stick to the road, okay?’

“Okay, okay… just… don’t expect much better from the roads.”

Seth had finally convinced Speaker to allow him to start moving on, to at least look for help. Brighton wasn’t far, at least a couple of miles. If they couldn’t find anything they could come straight back. But really he wanted something actually cooked for once, decrying his lack of cooking skill, the lack of proper facilities, and the unfortunate glut of canned ingredients. Only so much you could do with canned peas and pineapples.

Speaker finally interjected himself into the offhand conversation. “Countermeasures should be at acceptable levels and, from what amount of the horizon we can see, the fires in town have gone out.”

‘If only it hadn’t spread and blotted out the sun in every other direction since then.’

“Despite that… Keep quiet and keep your eyes open. We can only see what you see, remember. Though once we have some more power to utilize we can put this new sensor array to good use.”

‘That still sounds weird.’

“Yeah, it is kinda weird.” Threat reinjected himself into the conversation.

“Alright! Let us get this expedition started already.”

Seth was prepared to travel for a few days, loaded down with easy dry foods and water bottles. He even scrounged up some survivalist tools and had stuffed them into his jacket pockets. His mother’s red scarf was still stacked up around his neck, providing some cover from the soot laden wind. He even found a small bed roll, but hoped to not use it much. It had been sitting in a garage a little too long, even before this all started. And so he was set loose early in the morning, what little bit of the sun that could be seen at his back and a hopeful resurgence welling up.

For the first mile or so the road was clear, save for the knocked down road signs. The road to Brighton was a mostly straight shot, but had a few gentle curves that created separated stretches. The forest on either side was like a natural fence, blocking views of everything, but the few gaps present allowed glimpses into even more densely packed forests. Gaps that Seth tried his best not to look into… but failed.

Many of them looking more like breaches into the darkness beyond. Scratches and torn away bark from something carelessly rushing through. In fact a lot of the trees along the road looked like they had been scratched up. But… only in one direction. They were intermittent, but clearly kept going ahead of him. Seth looked back toward town, but saw nothing but untouched trees. It was as if something was rushing away from town, the exact way he was headed. But he had been warned of the danger, he trusted the voices had this covered, so he pressed on.

The first obstacle came in as he rounded the first lazy corner, a rolled over truck. Which way it had been going didn’t seem to matter as it lay broken and sideways in the middle of the road. As he drew closer he could see the windows were shattered… As was the whole driver side door. Closer now he could see the door was smashed inward, most of the side of the cab was. Finally upon it… he could smell it. Motor oil, something salty, and mild over death. He knew what death smelled like, it was why he didn’t like going into the forest. Plenty of dead animals had come out of it, so there was no telling what was still in it. But this though… This was different.

There was no body, no bones, no sagging rotting skin. Only dried stains… everywhere. The inside of the truck, the outside of the truck, the ground all around the gaping hole in the side. As if the person inside had been…

Speaker chimed in before he could linger in that thought. “We need to keep moving.”

Seth accepted this whole heartedly, shaking away the thoughts as best he could and returning to the road ahead. But that picture in his head still remained as he passed his town’s welcome sign. Though he didn’t need to fight it for long, the next curve in the road revealed more vehicles in the same state as the truck. Some tossed to the side of the road, some smashed down right where they were stopped, he even passed one dashed against a tree… ten feet up.

The smell was the same. Gas and motor oil like how his mom’s scarf used to smell like after working on their car, a salty tinge he couldn’t rightfully place but could escape, and death. Lots of death. And the blood stains were everywhere. Most still around their cars, but some were in the middle of the road, one wasn’t around any of the cars and seemed different, wider. A deer probably. Despite all the obvious death though, he heard or saw no flies, no vultures or buzzards, no coyotes even. And they always made a racket of his fears. This just made it all the more unsettling with their absence. A permanently silent graveyard, soaked in long dried blood. Seth was having second thoughts, compounding fear rising to fight his resolve. But he stifled it and pressed on. Choosing to focus on the road ahead rather than the death around him. He had to keep going.

These scenes continued all the way to Brighton. At least the traffic hadn’t been bad. But once the town came into view, any bright side was wholly obliterated. Despite the darkened red lighting, Seth could see there weren’t any buildings still standing on the river side of town. Though sparse, he could still see smoke billowing from the far side, but this was only the last dregs of the inferno that had scorched the horizon weeks ago. The rubble that was left of the river side was burned beyond recognition, spilling into the narrow Terrace River and staining it black with ash and debris. The bridge over the river at least survived, but the trusses were gone from one side. So he had to hurry across like it was a steel tightrope.

Inside the town, the devastation was more perceptible. Ash choked much of the air, but the ground was only lightly dusted as the wind kept it all moving. The fires had scorched and decimated every home and wooden structure, but the concrete of the center of town seemed to have withstood the inferno. What it hadn’t withstood were the holes smashed into almost every structure. A small grocery store had its entire façade caving in, the shoe store on the corner of their main street had an entire wall reduced to a few cinder blocks just barely keeping the roof up. The roads were more of the same, smashed or dashed vehicles permeating much of downtown. Some sticking out of the rubble, some almost unrecognizable as cars. More like melted rusty skeletons. Some of the piles of rubble though were widespread, but not as if blown apart. The tops of these piles looking like they were dug out. In search of something buried in them.

The blood stains had persisted despite any caked ash, staining almost every corner of the town that wasn’t burned. But… some of it was fresh, or at least not as dry and desiccated as the rest. Seth shakily contemplated all of this as he fought to keep his resolve. Forcing himself to listening to the cracking and falling of rubble, the popping of cinders, the jolting of downed powerlines-

‘Wait, we need that.’

He snapped out of his spiraling fear and looked around. The jolting was somewhat distant, toward a less obliterated part of downtown, but it was there. He headed on toward it, passing more blood stains, more still fresh. The salty tinge he smelled was strong through the ashy odor. There was death all around him. But he shook it away. He couldn’t stop, not here. Not this close to…

He stopped.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, heard foot falls. Frozen, he turned to his left. In an alleyway hiding at the side of a dumpster was… a man. He was scruffy as if he hadn’t shaved or even had a shower this whole time. A plain blue dress shirt and jeans, torn and frayed, hanged over him. And his eyes were wide, as if he was looking at a ghost. He stepped out slightly and rapidly looked down both ways of the road, scanned the remaining roof tops, before finally forcefully waving Seth to come to him.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

A pang of relief broke his fearful stoppage, but the state the man was in and his torrential caution washed this relief away. He mirrored the man’s scanning and stepped toward him. In range, the man snatched him by the hand and pulled him into the alley, behind the dumpster, behind stacked boxes, and finally behind walling mattresses. He let go long enough to move the mattress back as quietly as possible, but he wasn't doing his best. He seemed weak, his grip thin like he hadn’t eaten in some time. They continued on, coming to a double basement door that opened before they reached it. A woman, wearing a waitress uniform in a similar tattered state to the man’s clothes, lifted the door up and hurriedly waved them in, closing the door behind them, but leaving a conspicuous block of foam between the doors stopping it from clacking closed.

Seth was forced down into the basement proper, almost tripping as he turned back to look at the couple. Both of them stared at him from halfway up the stairs, the red hued light illuminating them through the ajar door. They looked with disbelief, fear, the man with regret, the woman with anger. She turned away first, hushed tones of scolding fury.

“What the hell Derrick, where did you find him!?”

“He was just in the road, walking like it was nothing!”

The man seemed more scared now, Seth could understand why, but… wait.

As the two argued Seth could just make out Threat trying to say something, but the arguing kept drowning it out too much to be understood. He pulled back into the basement and covered an ear to listen more closely, but it only spared a few words.

“countermeasures… too loud…”

The arguing rose in tempo so he covered both ears and pressed to seal out the-

“SETH!!! THE COUNTERMEASURES ARE DOWN!! YOU NEED TO GET THEM TO BE QUIET RIGHT NOW!!!”

Seth snapped back in shock, looked up wide eyed to the couple and tried to call them down. But no words came out. His voice was still on loan, or he had completely forgotten how to speak after all this time. Or whatever it didn’t matter right now! He franticly waved and grunted, trying everything to get their attention, succeeding only just in drawing them away… too late.

The world sank with his heart as he saw the door open behind them. Red light bleeding the color away… and a massive scaled claw reached in. Time seemed to slow, that grim adrenaline fueled perception that he’d hope to never experience again. He could only watch as that claw swallowed the man’s shoulder, digging claws into his chest and back before he even had time to know what was happening. But this slowness could hold, as the man was dragged back at unimaginable speed. He screamed as the door was obliterated by his forceful exit. The woman recoiled, but was grabbed in the arm by another claw from the other side. She tried to pull away down the stairs, but only succeeded in having her arm dislocate as the rest of her was dragged out the door. Both screamed, pleaded, there was sounds like ineffective punches and desperate fighting. Roaring, growling… followed by snapping, squelching. The couple’s screams heightened, more snapping and smacking… and more footfalls. Smashing steps, roaring, fighting, dying out screams. One scream suddenly crescendoing to no end in- *SNAP*

The world, the basement, the light in his eyes. Seth was left with nothing but the sounds of that ripping and tearing, of bones snapping, of hungry fighting over scraps, of… He blacked out, everything falling away entirely. His footing stayed, his mind refused to stop working, yet he just shut down right then and there. Without ever making a sound. Without anything left of his hope.

Seth opened his eyes, or at least started seeing again. They were dry, as if they had remained unblinking for hours. So he closed them, never wanting to open them ever again. He was on the ground, curled up in a ball. He didn’t know how he got this way, but he didn’t care. He was crying, or at least trying to. Dried up eyes soaked away any tears he tried to form, but inside he was sobbing. He wanted to go back, he wanted this nightmare to stop. He wanted his parents back, his life back. He tried to remember what it felt like to be hugged by them again, but all he felt was those claws wrapping around him too.

An hour passed, two, the voices didn't dare rouse him, not till he was ready. But they knew now what had happened, and their guilt was stymying them. Making them feel just what Seth was drowning in. He finally roused himself after three hours, what scraps of resolve returning, though caked in fear and resentment for ever wanting to leave his home. The screams, the sounds, they all played again and again in his head, burning deep and dying down with every repeat. At least allowing him a chance to feel anything else.

He sat up and scanned the basement he’d been sheltered in. Bits and pieces lessons eking through his want to just fall back on the floor. There wasn’t any food, it was mostly camping supplies along with several generators, batteries, and radio equipment. Shakily he picked himself up and walked over to the batteries. The mission he came out here to do grounding ever more jagged pieces of his resolve. Clutching a few in his hand, he felt a weak charge, but it wasn’t enough. He grabbed a car battery on the shelf, there was a little juice still in it, but he needed more. He ran his hand over every battery, every power stack, but it was still not enough… not enough to call this worth it. He fought back more pain and tears and kept looking.

He eyed the generator. It was gas so it would get noisy, so he absentmindedly thought up to Speaker.

‘Are the… Are the countermeasures back?’

“…yes… We-”

Seth stopped listening, realized pain lashing out the only way it knew how. He grabbed the starter pull, tension forcing him to nearly yank it off, but still sputter the generator to life. He covered his face in his scarf and put a hand to the socket. Waited. The charge was just as weak at first, but it started flowing. Small sparks prickling his palm as the basement filled with exhaust and monotonous rumbling. He could feel them pass through his skin and soak away into wherever the voices sequestered it. Away from him… After half an hour he cut the power, he didn’t know if it was enough, but he didn’t care anymore. He was hungry.

A bag of cereal in his backpack became his sole focus, suffering the bleak wrath he was left in. He sat on a sleeping bag the couple had rolled out against the far wall and judgingly eyed a few of their things, while pitifully scooping handfuls of cereal into his mouth. Loudly crunching to fill the void he was left in and keep the voices away… for as long as he could take. Which wasn’t long. He dropped the bag at his side, curled his knees in and simply asked the question he had been dreading the answer to.

‘Why?’

“…The… power drain became too much… We tried to start up the sensors when… but they ended up draining more than we thought they would.”

A beat passed in horrid tension, some understanding blocked out by already renewing memories. And more questions.

‘What were those things?’

“...The culmination of our sins. We… could only speculate before, we’d been only speculating this whole time! We knew what we brought with us, but… its effects on your people were…”

Seth’s eyes shot wide yet again.

‘Those things…’

“Are the people from your town.”

‘Mom…? Dad…?’

“Yes… they are more than likely among them.”

Seth stopped. He didn’t want to hear anymore. He didn’t want to see anymore. But he didn’t try to cry. He knew he couldn’t. He just curled up tighter on the sleeping bag and just blocked the world out. At least of his own volition this time.

The next morning came with marginal improvement. The light outside clearing away from the red haze, but still the darkness had found its hold. Seth left the basement, not whole, he will never be getting those memories out of his head, but time brings calmer moods. And helps rebuild shattered resolve. At least enough to just want to get the FUCK out of this nightmare. He’d scrounged the basement again, trying the radio but its circuits were fried for some reason. A distraction, or at least a better focus. He didn’t bother with the generator though, he just wanted out of here. Climbing the stairs he was unworried of what was up there, knowing full well the countermeasures were never going to be dropped… ever… again...!

Sure enough the alleyway was empty… save for the fresh coating of blood splattered on every surface. Seth didn’t stop to take it in, just continued on, out of the alley, past the dumpster, and back onto the street he’d been ripped from the day before. He could still hear the powerlines jolting, the mission still a better focus than the past. So he pushed toward them. Nothing had changed, the streets were just as bad as yesterday, but he paid no mind to them, just stepped around rubble and over the dry blood.

The line finally came into view past a junction box scattered to pieces. The end of a chain of high yield towers that stretched into the forest, following a path of least resistance or shortest distance. Without hesitation Seth marched up to it, putting his foot down to stop it from bucking wildly. He grabbed at the exposed wiring without fear or mercy, but the line jolted and bucked in defiance, swiping at his hand and cutting it. He recoiled, reeling and gripping his gashed hand like it was just taunting him for everything he’d already gone through, but this fresh pain wasn’t going to stop him. He tackled the end of the line like it was an alligator, putting both hands over the end. He was fed up with this, fed up with everything.

The charge in the line became apparent to him now, there’s no more than a few jolts left in it, so he slammed his bleeding hand down on the wiring with all the grit forced upon him. The result was instantaneous, electricity flowed straight into him, just like the lightning from the first day. But this time he felt it clearly, the jolt of energy being disseminated throughout his body without stops and without anonymous drain. A trickle taken off the top to feed the countermeasures, but no more. A few seconds later the line was dead, siphoned of all the power it still held. But Seth could feel down the line as it drained away. Switches, transformers, high yield lines. He was siphoning a substation. But it wasn’t destroyed like he would have expected, like Brighton. Something was cutting it off, isolating it, isolating this whole area from the rest of the grid. He didn’t know what, but something about it was a good sign. He chalked it up to the voice's speculations mixing up his thoughts, but…

“Hgrrr…”

He took a breath, he couldn’t help feel an unimaginable amount of resentment for his new… ‘friends’, for the world that left him in this hell. But… he knew he didn’t want to keep all of this. He knew they were victims just as much as he was… As everyone else here had been. His resolve pulled him down, told him to give them a chance, to try his damnedest to move on. To see that his life wasn’t over… not yet. He was alive, hell he had powers now. He could be a hero like he always wanted to be. Like Tlatoani, like the rest of the League of Supers. Hell he could join the League! He just had to stop this… stop this pain from controlling him. To stop from hating those already suffering with him.

‘Was that enough?’ He addressed Speaker with an unfortunate hint of disdain tainting his mental tone, but it was hard enough as it was.

“Y- yes, we have enough to run the countermeasures for another month.”

‘No more sensors?’

“No more sensors.”

A wave, an easing, a deep breath like nothing he’d ever felt before. Seth let out a sigh of relief, letting that disdain and resentment go as best he could. The panging of his cut hand meeting his relaxed focus as the worst washed away. He looked down at it, wide and cross cut layers of flesh screaming at him for relief. He restored his focus, felt the edges close and mend till there was nothing left to pain him. Another reminder that he had power… he had something within him. He really could be a hero. But that meant more than that, he remembered that much. But at the moment he was just tired of all of this, of this place, so he returned to the main street of Brighton.

Nothing had changed of the beaten and burned road, nothing but him. Seth stopped and turned to look back down the road to Frigateville, he knew it was safe there, that all he had to do was stay put and someone would come eventually. But… he couldn’t stop remembering that couple’s apprehension, couldn’t stop seeing the fear in their eyes as they looked at him. He knew that anyone who found him would ask the same questions. Show the same fear. Wonder if… he was also a monster like the rest. He knew he couldn’t stay there. He knew… he knew he couldn't handle being blamed like that.

He turned to the road out of Brighton, into more than likely more devastation, more death. But a sure escape from this hell… and chance. He felt the voices try to rise and dissuade him, but they stopped themselves, Threat stopped them. He was right, he couldn’t stay. So... Seth walked on, passing the rubble, the smoldering fires, the death his town had caused, that his new friends had caused… That he had caused. They were all a part of him now. Their sins were his now. But he wasn’t going to be beholden to the whims of whoever found him, he was going to survive. His resolve found its way back up as he found his drive. He was going to find a way to make things right, to be a hero and make this hell mean something better. Or at least prove that he wasn’t a monster, that… that blaming him won’t make the pain go away. He didn’t know how, but he had to fight this somehow, heal this somehow. Like his hand, he had to heal this away so no one else would feel this pain. So he walked on, head kept high in spite of what may come.

On his way out of town he passed a tourist shop. It was in tatters, and its wares were scattered everywhere. Failing already and looking down, he spotted a Brighton Blinders baseball cap and picked it up. He… he needed a way to make it impossible that he was from Frigateville, from the origin of those monsters. So he put the hat on over his shaggy brown hair, hair that had begun to lose its color and turn white. And so he kept on, into the doubtless miles of ruin and horror that awaited him, but with hardened resolve to survive... and atone.