Sometime later, with Frank still in the living room, he scrolled through more of the articles. Most of the stories he read were a repetition of what he already knew. The attacks were violent, and they seemed to be from erratic individuals.
However, what he knew for certain was that he had the upper hand over all the media coverage. And that was his encounter with a few of these 'people'.
Thinking it over, something within him churned up a sense of doubt. 'Erratic individuals,' he read. Something about them told Frank that they were far from individuals.
He then came across more articles, some of which highlighted the missing hikers—repeating the story he already read nearly in its entirety.
But at the end, some of the stories, those which concentrated on investigating more of the horror/thriller side of things, mentioned that one of the friends was a cultist. Suggesting that being the reason why they went missing.
'Hike of Beauty? More like Hike of Hell.'
'Are The Cultists Taking Over? The Case Of The Missing Hikers.'
'Exclusive! Parents of One of The Hikers Say, "This Should Have Never Happened".'
'When Innocence Meets Evil. Finding Out How One of The Hikers Was A Cultist.'
The claims in the stories lacked hard evidence. It further showed that not everything can be trusted. And Frank himself had first-hand experience with that.
During press conferences in conference rooms, the police force answered various questions from the press, only for Frank, following the said press conferences, to read in the news how they twisted the police's words. Unfortunately, it happened all too often, with some of the news companies twisting the truth to their advantage. A certain selection of media outlets kept the facts in their truest form; however, the news outlets which made a bank off of fear-mongering readers always used the same tactics. And he knew he was looking at the by-the-book examples within some of these stories, doing just that.
Reaching the end of one of the articles, more suggested ones came into view. Some were still in correlation with the missing hikers; however, there were a few others which made Frank wonder what they had to do with the story above.
'Horse Flies vs House Flies vs Stable Flies vs Robber Flies: Know Your Flies!'
'Need A Handyman to Fix Your Home? No Worries! Here's a Ranking of The Top 10 Best Craftsmen in All of Veursau!'
'Zone Of Safety: Wanna Go Hiking? Here's A The Top 20 Of The Eeriest and Most Unsettling Villages Which Have Been Long Abandoned.'
'ERIA 101: Lacking Survival Skills for An Apocalypse? Don't Worry, We've Gotchu Covered!'
'Exclusive! Popstar Mansa Tharta Says She's Positive. Positive For Good Vibes!! (GOTCHA).'
Pressing into another article to read, Frank was met by a white screen. A moment later, a buffering sign appeared, spinning in circles. It went on for a minute before he was met by another icon, this time of a sad duck, holding up two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, with the text right below it stating, 'Something went wrong.'
By his taskbar, he received a notification. The internet was gone.
"I knew it…" he grumbled under his breath.
Going into the settings of the laptop, he tried to get his connection to work again. However, nothing seemed to help. Then, reaching out for his phone to check if it was his laptop that was acting faulty, he saw that his phone lost connection too.
Moments later, with a ping, he received a message on his phone. Looking into it, he saw it was from his internet provider.
'Dear Customer. We're currently experiencing a nationwide service outage. Though we're working our best to get the internet connection back up and running, we warn our users that there's no estimated time for when this will be completed. We sincerely apologise for any inconvenience this may cause. We thank you for your patience. Stay safe.'
Then, from his phone, a slight commotion outside caught Frank's attention. It prompted him to stand up and walk to his living room window. Looking below, he saw three masked men arguing with the patrol officer.
With the window slightly open, Frank could just about make out their argument.
"Soon, you fuckers will have nothing to hide! Mark my words!" one of the men shouted.
"Clear the streets. This is your final warning!" a policeman replied.
"Or what??" The second man said. "Are you gonna shoot us?"
"Clear the streets!"
"Eh-Oh-Eh!" the third, and final, guy began singing. The other two followed. "We Want The Truth, Eh!"
And then again. As the third guy chanted, the two other guys followed, singing right after him. It continued for a minute more before a loud shot was heard. Silence followed.
Frank had a bird's-eye view of the situation. The policeman didn't shoot at anyone; instead, he had his gun pointed at the sky, giving them a warning shot.
But the silence didn't last long.
From the nearby buildings, the chant was heard again. One person at a time, joining the singing. "Eh-Oh-Eh!... eh-oh-eh… We Want The Truth, Eh!... we want the truth, eh… Eh-Oh-Eh!... eh, oh, eh… We Want The Truth, Eh!... we want the truth, eh…"
Only more voices were heard joining by the second, the chant only growing louder.
Lights from the building across from Frank's turned on, faces appearing through opened windows before they joined in.
Frank looked left and right, at all the people he could see. The unity that the three men from only minutes ago created. Everyone was human, a person who had no clue what was going on. A person who wanted answers.
At that thought, Frank couldn't help but let a small smile form on his lips, as he, too, opened the window further, joining the chant.
— — —
Some time later, just after 2 in the morning. The protest had long finished, and Frank was long asleep. The usual ambience of the television was switched for the deafening sound of silence.
But before dying out, the chants continued for nearly an hour. From there, one by one, the singing began to quieten as the voices disappeared. Eventually, the streets returned to what they used to be the night before. Quiet. But only for a while.
Just enough for Frank to fall asleep.
Then, the chants were heard again; this time, instead of the words being sung, they were shouted. Passionately.
From around the town, youngsters rushed out onto the streets, some of them with baseball bats, and some with golf clubs. A riot.
With the streets filling up with people, only more, from the buildings on each side, joined. Through the closed windows of his apartment, the sounds of shouts and screams sounded muffled. Not enough to wake Frank up.
Until… He opened his eyes.
Lying on his back, still, silence and darkness surrounded him.
A moment later, he tried to move. Nothing.
His arms, legs, and hands. His shoulders, body, fingers—they didn't move, no matter how hard Frank tried.
Then, a wave of cold reached the side of his left cheek, engulfing him as a whole, making him shiver. To his right, he could just about, through the darkness, see a figure, on its hands and knees, moving and turning before moving toward Frank. It crawled slowly and steadily. The closer the figure got to him, the more he managed to see. It resembled a striking similarity to the corpse-like creatures he saw in the Morgue.
And that was when he realised.
The cold in the air, tiles on the floor. The darkness and the smell in the air. And then, looking down at himself, he saw he was in his uniform, wet and bloodied. 'W-why am I back here?' A lump grew in his throat at the thought.
He felt his pistol in its holster by his left hip. The creature only crawled closer to Frank; it made him want to move back, to grab his weapon and put a bullet in its head.
His heart pounded against his chest. There, when the corpse stopped, it raised its head, staring at Frank. Its white eyes were opened wide, sending a jolt of discomfort through his body.
Then, he noticed the number of bodies that surrounded him, unresponsive. Still. Just by looking at them, he knew that the creature was the one to blame for the mess.
As if managing to hear his thoughts, a small smile grew on the corpse's lips. Exposing an abnormal set of teeth, nothing about the creature's appearance seemed human. Then, through a barely audible growl, it said, "You're next…"
The next moment, too quickly for Frank to comprehend, the creature opened its mouth and jumped at Frank.
Darkness then followed, the coldness quickly retreating.
Through the mist, he heard a familiar ringing, going on and on. It grew louder and louder, until…
Gasp. Frank opened his eyes, sitting up. His forehead glistened with sweat, and the neckline of his shirt was drenched. Taking a moment to realise where he was, he breathed in relief when he saw he was in the safety of his own home.
The ringing came from his phone. Someone was calling him.
Quickly reaching out for his device, just as he saw the caller ID, Maurice, the call ended. Furthermore, as the ID disappeared from the screen, it showed a few missed calls—two from Maurice and one from his boss.
Frank felt his stomach drop. "What the…"
His phone began ringing again. It was Maurice once more.
Answering almost immediately, he heard his colleague sigh a breath of relief. "Fucking hell, Frank. You scared the shit out of me."
"Fuck… Sorry, I was asleep. I saw that Mark called me too. What's happening?"
"Frank, I've got no time to explain right now. Shit's going down, and it's going down fast. I'm on my way to you. There, I'll tell you everything I know."
Through his sleepy mind, Frank found it hard to understand Maurice's words. He felt like he was still in a dream of his. "W-what?"
A bright orange flash lit up the living room, catching his attention. His brows crossed as he stood up on his feet. "What the fuck was that…" he muttered under his breath.
But before he could advance toward the window, Maurice's voice stopped him. "Get your stuff ready, Frank. Do you hear?? People are leaving town. Big time."
"Maurice. What the fuck is going on??"
"I'll tell you when I arrive. Give Mark a call before the telephone network goes down again. I'll give you another call when I'm nearby."
"A-alright…" Moving the phone from his ear, he quickly ended the call.
Only then, when silence ruled his apartment, did he register the muffled sounds from outside. Helpless screams from people, mixed with the blaring of sirens. 'Sirens? Again??... What for this time?'
A moment later, just as he dialled his boss's phone number, another bright orange explosion of colour lit up his living room. It made him walk over to the window, listening to the beeps which attempted to connect the call. And there, finding himself standing behind the living room window, he saw the blazing havoc that unravelled on the other side of the glass pane.
Fire was everywhere; most of the buildings scattered across the horizon were burning up. Plumes of smoke rose into the sky, like tall chimneys, touching the dense cloud layers. And from the ground, he saw the utter wreckage. Crashed cars, burning debris and amongst all the devastation, he also saw people, panicked, running and evading all of the fallen rubble.
In that, the call got connected. "Hello, Frank? I tried to get a hold of you earlier, but it seems like there's something wrong with the signal. Can you hear me?"
At first, Frank didn't reply. He couldn't. To say that he was shocked would be an understatement. He was unable to form a thought, let alone a sentence, leaving Mark's question hanging in the air.
"Hello? Frank? Are you there?"
His boss's voice pulled him back to the deranged reality that was unfolding. Finding the strength to just about speak up, he responded, "Yes… Yes, I'm here…" He let a moment of silence hang between their conversation, still attempting to get a hold of his thoughts. "What… What the fuck is happening?"
Just like Frank, it took a moment for Mark to speak up, too. "Only an hour ago, I asked myself the same question. I'm not sure if you've heard, but the 48-hour lockdown has been lifted. However, an emergency evacuation had been put into place."
"Emergency evacuation?"
"Most of the residents are leaving town, Frank. And I don't blame you if you're planning on doing the same." Frank kept his gaze out the window. He saw people running from one side of the road to the other. Women. Men. Children. Some carried bags, luggage, while others carried nothing. They held hands with those they loved, desperate to find a safe place. "But some are seeking refuge in the newly set-up safety camp, in the town hall. And that's actually the reason why I'm calling you…"
Above Frank's building, 3 military jets flew by, each one leaving a thin contrail behind it.
"As I said, I totally understand if you're also planning on leaving town. I don't want to hold you back. But if you're planning on staying and taking refuge in the town hall, I wanted to ask if you would like to volunteer to help secure the hall and keep the people inside safe?"
He couldn't form a sentence. Question upon question raced through Frank's mind. 'A safety centre? Emergency evacuation?... People are leaving town?? But… up until two days ago, everything seemed to be somewhat normal. How can things change so quickly??'
"Frank?" Mark's voice reminded Frank where he was. "Frank, you there?"
"Y-yes. Yes, I'm still here." The fear and uncertainty in his voice were all too hard to hide.
"You don't have to give me an answer right away, Frank. I know it's a lot to ask. Hell, I know how crazy this all seems. You've never been trained for something of this calibre. And oh boy, am I in the same boat. In all my years of being in the force, I've never been faced with a crisis of this scale. Fuck, up until yesterday, we had a lockdown, and not even 2 hours ago, Iarterre ordered evacuations… Aides have opened camps too, but from what I heard, they're filling up at an alarming rate. So again, I repeat—and at this point, one man to another, if you do plan on leaving this damned place, I don't want to hold you back, Frank. But if you're planning on staying, and if you would like to volunteer and help out me and a few others, I'd be extremely grateful… Because, at the rate things are going now, I-I'm not too sure if I'll have a fully functioning police force by the morning…"