The Dawn of Destruction, Chapter Two (clean)

               The Dawn of Destruction

Interitus 1 – Book One

Chapter Two

 

“Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. This is the law of the universe.”

Tears drenched her face. Blood soaked her hands. Sweat slowly dripped from her skin and splashed onto the moonlit concrete below. The blood on her knife glistened in the glow of distant streetlights. Two motionless eyes stared into her from the lifeless body on the cool asphalt. On hands and knees, she crawled over the corpse with her black hair dragging across his bloodstained clothes.

“The world pushes down with immeasurable force. It is only natural that we push back. I am a victim of circumstance. I was conceived in tragedy, and tragedy is what I have become.”

The body had fallen onto its right side. His head leaned against a concrete wall, but his extremities still twitched and trembled. Blood stained his leather jacket and formed a small puddle beneath his flesh, where every few seconds, another drop fell and struck the pool below. The girl watched this small ripple travel across the puddle of blood. She set her knife on the concrete and slid her fingers across his face.

“Do you understand why I hate this world so much? Everything that happens here is a transaction of chance. All of our destinies are determined by randomness. You were born into privilege; I was born into hell. You embraced complacency, knowing that you would never have to worry about anyone but yourself. I embraced depravity, for I am a mirror of this vile creation. Tonight, the cruelty of the world’s randomness was carried out through my hand. Only this time, you weren’t so lucky,” she whispered to the warm body.

There was no relationship between her and the nameless corpse. The trembling girl lowered herself, pressing her chest against his lifeless body. She reached her small hand onto her victim’s jacket, sliding her fingertips delicately across his wet blood. Her tongue embraced her finger, enlivening her mouth with a sticky sensation and the copper taste. Her eyes dilated instantly. She let out a small exhale and squealed quietly in deranged bliss; her heartbeat immediately accelerated.

A drunken voice shouted into the night air. The bloodstained girl crawled forward a few paces, pressing her sweaty face against the moist corner of the building that marked the end of this alley. The rightmost fraction of her face peered across the next street, scanning carefully for witnesses. Instead, she only saw two large men push an intoxicated man into a taxicab. Another man held open the door of a nearby club, blemishing the street with colorful lights and the clamor of dancing people.

These people lived meaningless lives of endless pleasure. The affairs of the surrounding world meant absolutely nothing to them. They could not understand the festering of decadence because they could not comprehend dissatisfaction. After all, how could they? These were the people with everything going for them. They were practically born with an indispensable amount of money. They were focused on nothing but pleasure; they had not a single worry in the world. They had never experienced loss. They had never felt any pain that came close to hers. They were numb to their surroundings, their purpose—the brevity of their precarious lifespans; nothing in the world could possibly shake their belief that everything served them and existed only for their pleasure. These people could not understand tragedy or misfortune. After all, in their eyes, this life had only begun, and everything would continue to be sunshine and smiles until the end of time.

“These people are truly the affliction plaguing humanity. But tonight, the bandage is set, and the wound can be amputated. Everything is set for the most captivating scene. The dry sidewalk whispers sweetly in my ears, politely asking to have its thirst quenched, but not just any liquid will suffice. There will come a day when all that remains of this world will tremble from the memory of carnage, just from hearing the whisper of my name—Naomi Ohayashi,” she said.

Naomi reached into her jacket and sheathed her bloodstained knife. She inhaled deeply, drawing in the bloody scent, tasting the air, relishing in the purification. Tonight, the human cancer had received its first treatment. The bloodstream of this world was polluted, but she took pride in knowing that she participated in its cleansing. Her body trembled with trepidation but also in yearning for the purge she was destined to fulfill. It would be the perfect climax to complete and conclude her life. Broken bodies would fall to the earth. Bright red blood would burst like fireworks, decorating the streets of the city and heralding Naomi’s advent to hell.

But in the corner of her eye, Naomi watched an alluring, glowing meteorite descend from the heavens and plummet into a familiar field; it came crashing down in a place with no one else around. It was a field where boys from her old high school would often congregate and play football after class. When the meteorite landed, a noticeable shockwave raced across the land and forced the alley to tremble beneath her.

Suddenly, Naomi felt uninterested in the bloodshed before her. After all, she could resume her purification at any other time on any other night, since the people on this street would not change in the meantime. Nothing ever changed with them, which was why no one else noticed that a meteor had fallen in their midst. Naomi felt a magnetic attraction to this fallen star.  Even the surrounding buildings and suburbs seemed silent in their slumber. It was quite possible that no one else even knew that this had happened. There was no choice but to investigate. She rose from the corpse and ran off into the moonlight.

Only a few blocks separated Naomi from her destination. The first couple blocks were all clothes outlets and jewelry stores—beloved by the superficial, but mundane and meaningless to the pragmatic. The last block marked the boundary between the smaller stores and suburban houses. The night was still. Moonlight and silence were constant; not a single shadow or person interrupted this luminous design. The meteor in the field shone vibrantly as Naomi quickly approached. The whole field basked in the glow of this foreign item. However, the radiation of this stone was more than artless luminosity; it began to take its toll on her body rather than her eyes.

“What the hell is this thing…?” she asked as she cautiously approached.

            The force felt overwhelming. Every sense was pushed far beyond its breaking point. The sensation was unlike anything that she had ever experienced. Even with her eyes shut, it felt as if the entire glow of the sun now beat down upon her eyelids. With every passing second, the glare doubled in intensity and pierced deeper into her brain. The sound was far greater than anything she had ever experienced; it sounded like a thousand locomotives roaring past one another and adding their cumulative clamor. Now brought to her knees by these effects, it felt like gravity had split her body into pieces. She fell onto the grass, reeling from the resounding pressure. It felt as if the Earth and her body were almost forced through one another and back, but by the time her eyes opened, the world resumed normality.

The night picked up where it had left off. The world was just as silent and vacant as it was before. The moon had danced so far across the sky that only its peak glanced over the buildings in the distance. 

“What happened to me? What happened to the hour…?” Naomi asked the stillness of the early morning.

            But everything felt different. Her body felt completely invigorated with a new power; she perceived the world as more protean than before. She clenched her right fist while picturing a sunflower. This image in her head was as trivial as trivial could be, but nevertheless, a sunflower materialized in the street before her, exactly where she envisioned it in her mind. She fantasized a wagon, and then it appeared. She fantasized a rifle, and then it appeared.

“I have learned in my passage through the dreary hollows of this world that anything left to its own devices has no value until it is held by a person. This exhilarating power, this ability to Create anything my twisted heart desires, could be used by humanity to end material poverty. It could usher in a new age of prosperity! But this would only perpetuate the affliction which poisons humanity. This false progress would only push them further into their complacence. This is not the world I dream of. My shattered spirit screams for a world where humanity is reset, thrust back to its humble beginning through a massive crest of blood. If mankind is positioned back at the starting place, leaving only a handful of those who lost everything they love, having watched it all get ripped from their grasp and torn apart before their crying eyes… then maybe this disease can come to an end.”

***

Just hours before Naomi’s discovery and transformation, the outside world was quiet and tranquil. All was silent on both ends of the time lapse. On that night, most people in San Diego were either asleep or indoors enjoying the nightlife. However, that was not true for Seth Freeman; the mild coolness of the mid-September night enticed him to go on a midnight run.

Seth’s feet pounded rhythmically across the pavement, following one after the other in an endless series of thuds. His phone bounced around in his pocket, tugging uncomfortably upon his long shorts, causing him to readjust his waistband every fifteen seconds. The key to his empty house jangled in his left pocket. His earphones delivered wordless music from his phone, but the volume was not loud enough to drown out his footfalls or the heaviness of his breathing. Sweat covered his body and fastened his tight shirt to his muscular body.

It was an uncharacteristically beautiful night. Even in his state of exhaustion, Seth could feel the moonlight falling from the skies to illuminate every step. The reflection of the stars twinkled on the rolling waves of the nearby ocean. The breeze carried the salty air across the blocks of homes near the water’s edge. Not a single cloud interrupted the captivating beauty of the motionless sky. Seth smiled at the beauty, ignoring the unfamiliarity of running alone.

On most nights like this, Seth and his best friend, Phil, would unwind from the long day by sharing a late-night jog. Every jog followed the same formula: Phil would begin by fawning over something new he learned in his engineering courses, although these tales would often include stories of mischief or verbal conflict. Phil was a notorious troublemaker. After ten or fifteen minutes of this, Phil would tire himself out and eventually fall into almost-complete silence. Phil always pressed himself, always beyond what he could ordinarily do, just so that he would slow down Seth as little as possible. Together, Seth and Phil often competed in local half-marathons and other, smaller races. Almost every time they entered a shorter race, Seth would take home the gold, sprinting or long-distance, day or night, rain or shine. He was famous among the runners of San Diego. Phil was always close behind, finishing every race somewhere within the top five.

But Phil was not here tonight. His family had gone on a short trip to visit his grandmother, and they would not be back until the next afternoon. However, this did not stop Phil from sending multiple messages to his best friend each hour. In fact, as soon as Seth crossed the landmark that meant he was now halfway back home, he felt his phone vibrate again in his pocket. Still running, he took out his phone and pressed the display button. His phone illuminated more brightly than he expected, forcing him to slam his eyes shut. After a moment, he could tell through the glare on his eyelids that the brightness faded, so he slightly opened his blue eyes. There were six unread messages, all from either Phil or Iris, but he could not read them because of the speed at which he ran. Seth pressed the home button, and then his phone returned to one of his two alternating backgrounds.

Seth smiled when he saw the picture of the three friends sitting at a beachside restaurant. In the picture, Iris and Seth sat close together, both with uneaten portions of a sandwich on their plates. Phil stood in the background, pointing excitedly at a framed portrait on the wall. Seth remembered Phil raving loudly about the person in the portrait. He remembered how everyone nearby had stared at Phil’s rambunctious display. In the picture, Iris tried to hide her face from the crowd with her blond hair, but Seth could see that her cheeks were flushed in embarrassment. As he continued staring at the picture, Seth could see the wind blowing through his own short afro.

And then the picture changed. It switched to a bittersweet image of Seth’s late parents, sitting beside each other with warm smiles on their faces. Seth’s mother was a polite woman from a middle-class African-American family. Every day, her goal was to smile and bring a smile to the face of someone close to her. She loved to laugh. Her laugh was boisterous and blissful, bringing joy to all those who heard. She loved everybody and everything, but more than anything, she loved Seth and his father. But Seth and his father shared a less attached connection. It was not that his father had been less devoted than his mother; it was merely a consequence of his absence. He was very frequently away on business trips, and often when he was home, he would be out with his friends or on a fishing trip. But Seth’s parents had been dead for two years now. They had been on the way to a Florida vacation when their airplane dropped into the Gulf of Mexico. That was only two weeks after his high school graduation.

Suddenly, Seth saw something moving fast out of the corner of his eye, distracting him from his phone. An asteroid, so beautiful that it looked like it was built from the moonlight itself, shot down from the atmosphere and smashed into the sand. Though Seth first thought it was a dream, the soundwaves and shockwaves quickly proved its existence. He realized that it landed only a short distance from the Pacific Ocean, only a couple blocks west from his home. As the whole area trembled, Seth accelerated his run to a full-force sprint so that he could be the first to investigate the meteorite. And although Seth reached it in just minutes, he saw the large silhouette of a person far down the shore, but this person did not seem to be moving. There were no other shadows or shapes to indicate that anyone else found it first.

By the time Seth reached the asteroid, it looked different than before. It was the most extreme darkness that he had ever witnessed. It seemed to absorb all light from the air, achieving a state of chilling absence. The temperature was already well below freezing, and the air felt colder every time Seth took another step. The sand around the impact site was vitrified but frozen. The large waves began moving slower as they crashed onto the sand. Before long, the ocean fell almost completely silent.

Seth’s feet began to slide toward the void, but even after he reached the edge of the darkness, his feet felt detached from all other matter; not a single earthly property affected him in this place. This was the epitome of stillness and silence. There was not a sound to be heard nor a sight to be seen. As he pressed on, Seth felt a great power manifest itself throughout his whole body. His muscular arms pressed against the overwhelming pressure; his powerful chest and abdominal muscles tried desperately to counteract the powerful force, but his body could only exert so much. The air adopted a fearsome current that grabbed onto each individual curl of his hair, and then it pulled painfully in all different directions.

After just a short time like this, the sand returned beneath his feet. The frigidity had faded from the air, and the sand felt as smooth as ever. Dunes and footprints gradually reappeared to the beach around him. Large waves crashed ashore and receded at a regular interval, just as they did before. Next, the streetlights and quiet homes returned to the surrounding area. A small breeze transferred the smell of ocean air to the lines of houses between the sea and his home. Alas, the moon and stars returned to the sky, decorating the cosmos. Everything was normal again; only the memory remained. But one question remained—what had happened? Was anything different? Seth felt a bewildering, indescribable sensation deep in his core, but he saw no evidence to suggest any actual change.

If it were not for the tide, Seth probably would never have realized that so many hours had passed. The waves now receded farther away than they were before, leaving tide pools scattered across the shoreline. Lights in the distance revealed the San Diego skyline, but it seemed like no one had noticed the transformation on shore. However, as Seth approached his home, he saw a lamp shine on his neighbor’s porch. The sound of police sirens blared from the city. The dim glow of a computer monitor struggled against the darkness from Seth’s upstairs room.

As Seth crossed the threshold of the door to his house, he felt vibrations pulse from his legs through the wooden floors to the silent walls of his home. Multiple texts and voice messages, all from Iris, reached his phone all at once. The text messages were mostly incomprehensible; they included random combinations of assorted letters. At first, Seth believed that this happened because he had had no phone signal during the time lapse. But then, Seth felt his phone vibrate again as he held it in his hands; Iris was calling him at that moment.

 “Hey Iris! I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t feel my phone. Are you alright?” Seth asked.

“No, nothing’s alright!” Iris shouted.

Seth could hear her crying uncontrollably, though he tried to soothe her frantic desperation.

“I knew it’s been happening more and more, but I never thought it could happen to us,” she whispered between sobs, trying to catch her breath.

 “What happened?” Seth said as he felt his heart beginning to race.

“I’ll be on your street in fifteen minutes. Just wait inside; I need to talk to you!” she pleaded.

            Iris abruptly disconnected. Though adrenaline pumped through his veins, Seth could not bring himself to do anything but wait. He tried to breathe slowly with his eyes closed in order to calm himself, but he kept losing his rhythm; he could not stop his mind from contemplating what could have happened to Iris. His sweat turned cold as he stood in the dim light.

Up until the beginning of high school, Iris had lived only a couple houses down the street from Seth. However, in their freshman year, her parents underwent a violent divorce that caused her and her mother to move. Fortunately, they still lived within the same district, and they tried to meet up at least once a week, but Iris was never the same. As he fought to calm himself, Seth remembered feeling the same panic then as he felt now. Back then, he thought her pain came from not living near her closest friends. He thought she would hate not living within walking distance of the ocean, since she used to spend hours on the beach every afternoon. But in the end, he realized that her heart had broken from the sadness of a shattered family. She loved her parents deeply, but she could not stand to watch as hatred drove them apart.

A series of heavy knocks shook the walls of the house. Seth bolted upright and ran for the door. As it creaked open, Iris pulled Seth outside and jumped into his strong arms in a tearful embrace.

“Seth, it’s terrible! Mom was in New York for work, and there was a gunfight… she got shot! She’s dead, Seth! She’s dead,” Iris cried.

Iris’ lamentation was a rollercoaster of pitch and volume, but now her breathy sobs were silent. The surrounding darkness mimicked the stillness, but it was clear to Seth that nothing would ever be the same with her again; she would never completely heal from this pain. Her mother was her mentor, her ally, her best friend, but these memories turned sour now that she was gone. Seth silently cursed himself for not responding to her messages when she needed him most.

Tears poured from Iris’ blue eyes and fell onto the patio floor. Her soft blond hair was moist from the sweat and tears, but Seth hardly noticed this as he held her against his chest. He could smell the ocean air, slowly drifting from her hair and into the darkness. Her shell earring pressed against his right shoulder.

A strange sensation suddenly surged through the arteries spanning Seth’s body. It was a simple but drawn-out procedure. A thin veil of purple surrounded Iris; it contrasted her fair skin with a nebulous allure. Her eyes widened and her expression grew blank. The purple aura intensified around her.

“I feel so cold,” she whispered.

            Her skin felt so fragile, so frigid; her icy blue eyes appeared somber. Everything felt like ice. A single touch could numb the body. The coldness and confusion overwhelmed Seth. And then, her arms and face adopted the purple glare. Seth was horrified but forced to watch and stare. The affliction consumed her beautiful skin and hair, and then her entire body disappeared into the moonlit air. It was an unexpected conclusion to a fragile embrace, but never again would he see her face. She was gone. She was Destroyed.

And even though Seth looked around in all directions, silently but desperately searching for a more reasonable explanation, he knew in his heart that he would not find her. He knew that this was somehow his fault. He knew that he was responsible for killing one of the only two people who meant anything to him, but it still did not make sense. What had caused this? How could something like this happen so spontaneously? But the temperature felt so precariously familiar; it was the same that he felt when approaching the meteor on shore. It had cursed him with the ability to Destroy anything he touched; it had cursed him with no control. It felt like something terrible had been force-fed into his body, and now Iris was gone because of it. There was no way to deny this.

           Iris came to him because she needed her best friend; she sought to salvage a small shred of hope from the ruins of her dismantled life. But now because of the very friend she needed to save her, she was gone.