“In order to achieve your dreams, you must be able to go through a couple of nightmares.”

-Auron Darkbright

Around the world, life continued as usual.

***

Moscow, Russia

Time: 13:50 UTC

In their late thirties, two men stood opposite each other, guns drawn in front of an opened bank vault.

In the distance were the sounds of several guns and automatic rifles discharging. The cries of men, women, children, dogs, and rats were mixed in chaos.

“Willard, for fuck’s sake, just please put the gun down!”

Behind one man was a younger woman, shouting as she appeared out of breath. Silver pistol in one hand, snot-sniveling newborn baby in the other. Draped around her was a blood-infested blue tracksuit matching the man next to her. Atop her long curly hair was a mask, a girl’s face in the form of a smiling Japanese anime character.

“You thought you could throw me to the wolves, hm? You thought you could go on your little merry Bonnie and Clyde adventure while the rest of us sit here, with our dicks in our hands, getting fucked by the KGB’s? I thought what we built was special. How could you-“

Willard quivered with vitriol as he became tongue-tied.

“How could you betray me?”

With tears streaming down his face, Willard locked eyes with the person he professed to be the love of his life, Gregory.

“Say something to me, damnit!”

Pop

The black pistol from Gregory’s hand was smoking. The woman, standing next to him, had darted behind him at a moment’s notice while safeguarding the child’s head into her chest.

With blood smearing his black coat, grounded in a ‘T’ position, was Willard.

“Emerald, hand over my child to him.”

“What? No. Gregory, please!”

“My child will not be raised in a prison.”

Gregory had steel in his voice as he turned around, towering over Emerald.

“I won’t give up my baby to anybody, not to him and not even to-“

Gregory had planted his pistol just a few inches away from Emerald’s forehead.

“I don’t think you heard me the first time.”

***

Tokyo, Japan

Time: 13:52 UTC

“Gina! We ran out of toilet paper! Could you run to the store and buy some!”

“I can’t, Rania! I’m in the middle of a live stream right now!”

“Pause it!”

“Are you serious?”

Rania quivered with anger as she sat on the toilet watching the latest rerun of her favorite drama, Doctor X-YZ.

“If you want me to renew the internet plan-“

“Arghhhhh!!!”

Gina threw her computer keyboard at one of her two monitors, slapping over her webcam.

“Alright guys, we’re going to finish our stream here since my fucking roommate forgot to bring tissue to wipe her ass again. Love ya. Muah!”

Gina clicked on her computer mouse a few times before picking up her black laced bra off the floor. Struggling to latch the hooks around her plump, pink-tipped breast, she opted to forego her bra altogether. Gina would put on a pair of green striped sweatpants over her black laced panties before hastily putting on a wrinkled gray hoodie.

Before she exited her room, she glimpsed at the bed she barely made. After snagging two cigarettes and her purse near a young sleeping child, Gina made her way down her narrow hallway. She stopped by the opened bathroom, staring at Rania, still chuckling at her phone with her panties down by her porcelain-skinned ankles.

“Oh, can you bring me back two cans of beer and some condoms while you’re out there?”

“I’m broke, Rania.”

“Just tell Mr. Yanagi I’ll blow him later.”

“He has a girlfriend now.”

“And?”

“Tsk. Whatever.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Gina rolled her eyes as she pulled her hood over her long brunette hair, put on her rugged brown sneakers that were once white, and stormed out the door.

“Aish, this fucking woman!”

***

New York, United States

Time: 13:54 UTC

Dr. Amora Khan’s willpower to save all of her patients was admirable.

“Clear!”

Using her defibrillator, Amora sent an electrical shock wave through the rib cage of Niall Foster. He was a fragile seven-year-old boy subjected to a gunshot wound to the skull and chest region. She fixed her palms over his chest, pressing against Niall’s skinny body.

“1. 2. 3. 4. 1. 2. 3. 4.”

“Dr. Khan. It’s been well over twenty minutes.”

“Get the fuck off me!”

Dr. Oliver Derek, whose hand she slapped away, stood by with several of his teary-eyed colleagues.

Amora knew death stacked the deck against her, but she didn’t care. As the perspiration from her chestnut-hued skin dripped, she pumped away, hoping and praying for a miracle as she administered CPR.

“Announce it.”

“1. 2. 3. 4.”

“Announce it, Dr. Khan.”

“1. 2. 3. 4.“

“Do you not see his tears?”

“1. 2. 3-”

Amora’s prayers were not answered.

Oliver’s words had gotten through to her as Amora stopped and gazed at Niall’s last painful expression. She cleared away her palms from where the gap in Niall’s chest had been. For a moment, Amora had balled up her fist.

Betrayed by his mother, Niall Foster had departed on October 13th, 2023, at 9:56 AM. As snivels and coughs filled the pediatric room, Amora exited after issuing his death.

“Where are you go-“

Before Oliver could finish his sentence, Dr. Ankit Ferguson extended his arm to intervene.

“Give her some space before you try to throw more assignments at her, Oliver. Her patient just died.”

Oliver was annoyed. After twenty-five years, he had seen it all.

“Running away from the battlefield will not save her. Do we desire more doctors becoming afraid of using their scalpel?”

***

Seoul, South Korea

Time: 13:57 UTC

Euphoria filled the crowd of teenagers and young adults as they screamed encore multiple times in unison. Sadly for them, the boy band ‘Enigma’ had just given them a performance of a lifetime. The concert host made announcements for fans to exit the Seoul Olympic Stadium. Meanwhile, the Enigma members were packing their belongings in their dressing room.

“Oi, Taeho. Did you see the black girl with the white bunny ears in the VIP section?”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“That was Clarissa from ‘MySunTaeho97’ who kept making those reaction videos to our music videos.”

“No way! She flew in from the US?”

To say it bewildered Taeho was an understatement. Since his debut a year ago, few things brightened his day compared to watching TikTube videos from Clarissa.

“She wasn’t on the VIP list, but I pulled some strings when I saw her FaceGram update. She’s also a part of the meet-and-greet. Invite her for drinks, man! I’ll cover for you with Manager Kim.”

“You’re just trying to get me in trouble now, Jason.”

“Go on. I got you. At least meet her and get her number or something. Who knows what will happen while she’s in Seoul.”

“You’re trying to get me out of the dorm to sleep with Yuffie, aren’t you?”

“Alright Detective Dispatch, you got me.”

Jason was putting the finishing touches on packing his backpack. As his smartphone pinged, he picked it up off his dresser, revealing a lock screen of a young adult woman with long, blonde curly hair. It was a text message from Yuffie asking to meet her in the parking lot in five minutes.

“Manager Kim, I’m going to go meet Yuffie real quick before the meet-and-greet. She snuck away from her dungeon of a company for a bit.”

He grabbed his Enigma crest branded black cap to snag atop his short black hair.

“You know the deal. Avoid the reporters. We don’t need another scandal.”

With Manager Kim’s blessings, Jason jetted out of the dressing as his bandmates cheered him on with whistling and kissing sounds.

“Knock it off, guys!”

***

Guantanamo Bay, Cuba

Time: 14:02 UTC

Somewhere deep in the confines of a maximum-security prison, Prisoner 1408 was being led to another engaging session of interrogation and torture.

“You’re late! I was getting tired of playing with my toilet here.”

Standing In the spacious interrogation room was Prisoner 4269, known as Mother. She had earned the nickname Mother during her time in the prison. No one knew her real name, not her fellow inmates and certainly not her victims she nicknamed her toilets.

“You have inmates running your interrogations now, Mr. Nickelson?”

“Only for exceptional cases like this one.”

The facility’s warden, Alfred Nickelson, was preparing another round of black coffee as the son of the assistant director of the CIA, Jeremy Meeks, had entered the observation room.

“Never understood how you guys stomach the whole torture thing.”

“Relax. There’s no rule against prisoners torturing each other. Besides, Prisoner 4269 over there was one of us not too long ago.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. Her medical expertise was great.”

In the hands of the CIA, Mother’s skills were exceptional. Whenever the CIA needed to go outside the law, they called Mother, as both were connoisseurs of torture.

A sharp and high pitch ringing sound reverberated with screeches of agony in the interrogation room.

“Is that a-?”

“Yep.”

“A fucking power drill?”

“Were you expecting a nail clipper?”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Jeremy thought he had seen it all. Watching Mother power drill another human’s fingers was beyond his limit. Vomiting in the nearest trash bin next to him, he moved to regain his composure.

“Well then, that was no fun. This guy passed out. Guess it’s your turn 1408.”

Mother had pressed the drill switch multiple times to intimidate Prisoner 1408, but the sounds leaking into the observation room’s intercoms only continued to frighten Jeremy.

“Mr. Nickelson, I really don’t know how you can stomach this.”

“Tell that to these murderers and terrorists.”

“Well, at least can you lower those intercoms? This isn’t the interrogation portion we’re watching.”

“Sure.”

As Alfred walked over to the intercoms, Jeremy placed his back against the black tinted windows of the observation room.

“What’s 1408’s deal anyway?”

“The reports said he holds secrets to an upcoming terrorist attack happening in thirteen countries.”

“Thirteen? How did you find that out?”

“He said that when he turned himself in.”

“Interesting.”

“Yep. At first, when I read the reports, I thought it was bullshit. I mean, who walks into an CIA facility to admit to a federal crime? When they asked him why, he divulged information about another crime. You heard of the TikTube Bomber case in Beijing, right? Without the information he provided, there would have been a record number of casualties. A real-life Raymond Reddington.”

“Wait, my dad mentioned something to me about how a criminal informant prevented a massacre in China. That was him?”

Jeremy’s outburst caught Alfred off guard.

The security guards in the room below Jeremy and Alfred had just finished strapping Prisoner 1408 into his chair. Mother made her way over to him as she left behind her power drill.

“But it gets even crazier. Before 1408 turned himself in, he took his teenaged son to school, only telling him he was leaving for a few months on a business trip. We had a hard time pulling up his information since the prick stopped registering his ID after he turned 19.”

“A sense of duty? Nobody was looking for him. I feel bad for his son.”

“You can say that again.”

Mother was spending some time behind Prisoner 1408 before she caressed his broad shoulders. She unbuttoned his olive-green prison jumpsuit with one hand as she took out a stethoscope from behind her with the other. Wrapping them around her ears, she sat atop of the armrest, leaning into him with her long and lavish silver hair brushing up against his scruffy grayish beard.

“I apologize if things get a little messy for you,” Mother whispered into Prisoner 1408’s right ear.

“Go on and be my guest. As you already know, I’m perfectly okay with messy,” Prisoner 1408 chuckled.

The blood from Mother’s olive-green prison jumpsuit was dripping onto Prisoner 1408’s chest. She lowered her head into his abdomen as she placed one hand on his muscular thigh. Taking the diaphragm of the stethoscope in her hand, she pressed it against his chest. Prisoner 1408 would whisper something to her that was inaudible.

Mother grinned.

After removing the stethoscope from around her neck, she took a pair of rubber bands out of her pocket. She used one of them to tie her hair into a ponytail.

The other rubber band would be for Prisoner 1408 as he stood up from the chair, both arms free of their initial straps. As he tied his hair into a ponytail as well, Mother would take out a black poker-sized playing card from her coat pocket, offering it to him.

As Jeremy looked on from the observation room, he turned toward Alfred in confusion.

“Wait, what’s she doing untying him?”

***

Time: 14:07 UTC

No matter the circumstances, life continued.

Willard was lying on the ground with a newborn baby crying on his chest as several KGB agents swarmed him with guns pointed, screaming various inaudible words. Gina was snagging beer for her deadbeat roommate, apple juice for her son, and rubbing the price sticker on a pregnancy exam at a store. Jason was rushing to embrace the woman he called the love of his life after a charity concert show for a sellout crowd of 69,000 passionate fans. Amora was crying in the staircase of the children’s hospital, mourning the death of a patient taken too soon as Derek sat a few flights above her, listening to her wallow. Alfred had his pistol pointed at a whimpering Jeremy as Prisoner 1408 and Mother stood over the bloodied bodies of the security guards in the interrogation room.

Everything proceeded as usual.

Until it didn’t.

BOOM

A violent bolt of lightning from the purple darkened skies struck around the world.

As the electricity shut down worldwide, the last recorded time was 14:08 Universal Time.

Kyieeeeeyaaaa

A deafening screech rained from the skies, stunning multiple people worldwide.

Those that heard the ungodly screeches gazed into the purple sky. Before them, the impossible was happening. The sky itself was cracking under pressure.

Kyieeeeeyaaaa

From the cracks in the sky, multiple dark and dreadful claws emerged.

***

Love and Betrayal. Grief and Forgiveness. Success and Failure. On October 13th, 2023, the greatest massacre of mankind, historically referred to as the Prelude to Requiem, would serve as humanity’s reminder of one emotion that transcended them all-

Fear.