Cataclysm (BlisteredBlood & darkangel76)

[darkangel76]

A story of divergence...

What happens when a sudden decision could mean the path you were treading completely falls apart, crumbling beneath you as you desperately try to run ahead? The ground shakes and infrastructure falls, life as you once knew it no longer is the norm. Now it's a dog eat dog world and choices suddenly determine your path to redemption or your path to utter despair.

Though isn't that always the way of things?

This is a story about choices, about facing your future, as well as yourself. As we tread along our paths into a seemingly endless void, heed that looming shadow in the corner. It just might swallow you whole before spitting you out once again.


"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" Emma grumbled as she clutched her books tightly against her chest. Her bag was only half-heartedly slung over her shoulders and she'd not bothered to button her jacket. Hell, even her fiery hair was slightly mussed. She glanced down at her phone and bit down on her lower lip. It was already 1:15pm and class began at 1:45pm. There was no way she'd make it all the way from Cambridge to Longwood Ave in time. The damn green line was glacially slow and traffic would definitely be backed up on a Friday.

Fridays were never good. Not ever.

Emma raced toward the station that would take her along the red line. She cringed knowing that Park Street would be swamped when she transferred. It always was. Damn station! Damn everything! She clamped her green eyes shut and tried her best to clear her mind. She really needed to get it together. She had a test to get to and she needed to be both calm and ready once she got to the hospital. Who's bright idea had it been that she apply to Harvard Med? Oh right.

Hers!

Scowling inwardly, Emma saw the red train pull up and she quickly got on. Again, she glanced at her phone. 1:17pm. That was it. She was dead. She'd undoubtedly fail and all because she'd end up a no-show. Would they let her retake the damned thing? God, she hoped so, but she wasn't about to fool herself. Medical school was competitive enough and then she had to go and choose Harvard Med! How in the hell had she even gotten accepted?

'You know why, Em,' that little voice would always say. And it was true. Emma did know why. It had been her dream to attend Harvard Medical ever since she'd been a little girl. She was now living that dream due to dedication and hard work...and it helped that she genuinely wanted to make a difference in the world.

Now if only the damn trains would move faster!

"Shit!" Emma muttered. A passenger glanced her way and quirked a brow, but they didn't pay the flustered girl too much attention. It was only a matter of moments before they were back to reading the book glowing on the kindle tablet screen they held in their hands.

Emma gripped the pole and focused her eyes on the window. There wasn't much to see as the red train hurried along the track. 1:20pm. Damn it, Park Street seemed farther away than ever! She wasn't even sure why she was constantly checking the time. It was hopeless. She'd be late. She'd fail the test. Suddenly, the train began to slow. Park Street. Finally! She rushed off the train and headed for the tunnel that would connect her to the E-train on the green line. She was tempted to take the D-train, but rumors had it that there was some riff-raff hanging out at the stop she'd typically get off at and she wasn't in a state of mind to deal with any of that nonsense. So, E-train it was!

As Emma dashed toward the connector tunnel, she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. "What?" she shrieked as she saw the caution tape bar the way. "I can't believe this!"

"Believer it," a security guard explained as he made his way toward Emma. He seemed tired, his eyes drooping at the corners, as dark circles formed beneath them. "Area is flooded and there's been some electrical issues. We don't want any injuries...or worse...today," he added.

Emma gave the man a weak smile and glanced at her phone. 1:25pm. Her luck had run out before she'd started her afternoon. Why had she agreed to that lunch date? The guy had been the drabbest person she'd ever come across since ever. He left without her number and she left...late.

Not having any choice, Emma headed back the way she'd come. Perhaps she could take the orange line instead. At least she'd be closer. Who cared if she'd still have about a mile to walk? Feeling defeated, she headed toward the alternate tunnel.

"Nope," came the voice of another guard. "Didn't they announce it? All tunnels at Park Street are impassable."

"Now they tell me," Emma rasped, completely exasperated. She could feel her eyes beginning to prick with tears, her chest tightening at the inevitability of her afternoon gone wrong. She just wanted to get to the hospital, to do well on her test and be that much closer to making a difference in the world. Perhaps she wasn't destined to make a difference. After all, who was she in the grand scheme of the world? Whether she became a doctor or not, the world would keep on going...

No. Just no. She couldn't believe that. She didn't want to.

A single tear dripped from Emma's eye. Frustrated, she wiped it away and headed for the stairs leading up. Well, it wasn't that far to Copley Square. She walk there and take the green line from there. At least then she wouldn't have to worry about tunnels. Slowly, she climbed the steps leading up and out. Once outside, she glanced up at the blue sky above. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Somehow she'd right this awful, awful day. She'd get an extension. She'd retake that test.

As Emma began making her way to Copley, the ground began to tremor. She stood stock still for a moment, blinking in disbelief. Boston hadn't had a tremor in eons. Maybe she'd imagined it all. Ignoring the sudden jolt of the ground beneath her, she continued on her way.

1:45pm.

Emma finally made it to Copley. A part of her wasn't sure why she was bothering to make it to the hospital. The test had started and she wasn't there. It would be at least another twenty minutes before she was given how the E-trains ran. Heaving a heavy sigh, she walked up the steps to the station. Just then, the ground trembled again, her feet shuffling to help her remain balanced. "What the..." she whispered mostly to herself. Others around her seemed to notice the odd jolt, their hands reaching out to hold onto walls or rails, anything to keep them from falling. When the tremor stopped, Emma went into the station. Fortunately, her train was there. Waiting and ready.

The train moved slowly along its track, but at least Emma knew she'd be at the hospital by 2:00pm. Maybe. It was better than nothing. She had to try. "You got the time?" a random guy asked her as she shifted uneasily in her seat.

"Oh?" Emma asked. She raked a hand through her fiery hair and nodded. Crinkling her nose, the smattering of freckles popping out against her pale skin, she glanced at her phone. "It's 1:55pm," she said.

"Thanks," the guy responded, giving her a warm smile that made her tummy flutter.

"You're welcome," Emma answered, smiling back.

Suddenly, the train screeched to a halt. Emma perked up and looked out the window. This wasn't a stop. The guy who'd smiled looked just as puzzled as she'd felt. Just, what was going on? With the train stopped, she felt the metallic hunk of junk rock on the tracks. Her green eyes went wide and panic roiled through her veins.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Unexpected stop," came the announcement. "Track damage ahead. We are under earthquake advisory."

"Wh-what?" Emma said out loud. The guy looked her way and shrugged. Everyone on the train began to whisper, talking quietly among themselves as word of an earthquake made its way through the line of cars.

"We can't stay on this thing," the guy said, looking directly at Emma. She gave him a nod, agreeing completely. Unable to help herself, she glanced at her phone. 2:05pm.

The guy pushed on the doors and was soon being assisted by others on the car.

"Stay seated," came the voice. "Remain calm."

But the tremors were back. Emma felt them as the train swayed where it was. It wasn't long before the doors finally opened, people rushing for the door in one massive lump. Emma felt suffocated as everyone moved. "Go that way," the guy commanded her. Without thinking, she followed his directions, as it was, she was having a hard time thinking. She wasn't ready for this.

Would she be ready to be a doctor?

Closing her eyes, Emma shook her head. Of course she would be! She had to be!

Just as Emma was clear of the train, the ground shook once more, the train rocking so hard that it began to tip. Her eyes fixed on the guy with the nice smile, his own eyes somehow finding hers amidst the sudden chaos. At that, the train fell over, the ground shaking so hard that Emma fell, hard, against the ground. When she looked back over to where the guy had been standing, he was suddenly no where, hidden beneath the monstrosity of metal that crushed him from above.

"No!" Emma shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. She dropped her book and scrambled to her feet. The ground was still shaking, people shouting, screaming. She fell back down once again, crawling toward the door leading outside. She had to get out, to...

Something tugged on her leg. Emma glanced back and saw a woman trying to get in front of her. The woman's eyes were wild with fear and panic. She tried to climb over her, desperate for freedom and any other train that might happen to fall off the tracks. But she couldn't let her mind shut down now. No. She had to get out, to survive. At that, Emma kicked her foot, her heel striking the woman in the shoulder. She winced, but let go. That was all Emma needed as things began to fall, to crumble. Once outside, she saw cars stopped in disarray, people running from their vehicles as buildings began to sway, light posts wobbling like ribbons held up on a breeze.

What was happening? How? Why?

Not wanting an answer, Emma just sobbed, knowing she had to hope for the best. Looking at her phone, the tears just refused to stop. 2:15pm.

And everything in the world had changed.

 

[BlisteredBlood]

A story of divergence...

Suppose if you will, you had everything taken away from you in the blink of an eye, all because of something you had nothing to do with? You had done everything right, or at least what was considered right in the eyes of those you had considered to be your best friends, your loved ones, your significant others and beyond only to watch as they turned their backs on you while you suffered the consequences. Now, you seek your own personal path to redemption. How, you may ask? There's many ways to go about it.

But how would you go about it? Would you seek to right the wrongs that were placed upon you through whatever means necessary, even if it meant having to perform some of the most barbaric acts known to man, even as the whole world has fallen to ruin, power lines snap and communication as a whole has ceased? Or, suppose if you were to take the moral high ground and attempted to prove your worth, knowing full well that it would still cost you? But what if you chose neither of these things and instead forged your own path?

These and many other questions are ones you must ask yourself.

"Given the choice, whether to rule a corrupt and failing empire; or to challenge the fates for another throw - a better throw - against one's destiny... what was a king to do? But does one even truly have a choice? One can only match, move by move, the machinations of fate... and thus defy the tyrannous stars."

- Kain, from Legacy of Kain: Defiance

"You still awake back there, Jackknife?" Asked one of the prison guards that was monitoring the transfer of prisoner number 58-016-N2, also known as Jack McKenzie, who would only glare back at the guard with a steely eyed glare.

"I'm fine, thank you." Jack answered as he then looked back out the window again of the prison bus as it traveled along the I-93 tunnel towards Logan International Airport, which would then send him out on a "first-class trip" out to California. Folsom Prison would be the final destination. The flight would be leaving at 2:00pm sharp, and it was 1:15pm right now. There was just one problem with it. Aside from it being the usual lunchtime rush hour, there was a lot of people out and about that were coming in off of I-95 and and heading in a similar direction. But then again, Fridays were notorious for being bad, especially out here. At this point, traffic through the I-93 tunnel was reduced to a crawl, and the prison bus that he and the few that were legitimately tried and sentenced was wedged into that bumper-to-bumper mess.

"Don't get smart with me, boy." The guard snarled back at him. "Besides, you're already in enough trouble as it is, especially after everything you did to that poor kid." He answered, referring to the court case which inevitably hand him down a guilty verdict for the murder of seven-year-old Oliver Lewis. There was an odd wrinkle within the case, however. But even then, just like the old saying goes, justice was blind. Even with nothing but conjecture and circumstantial evidence, the prosecutors trying the case did everything in their power to put Jack away. And did they ever go the extra mile to make sure that the nail was firmly embedded in that coffin.

Jack frowned sharply at that as he looked out the window, trying his absolute hardest to not think about the grave miscarriage of justice, the ineptitude of the judge, the blind contempt of the 12 people who served as a jury of his peers, the puffed up prejudice of the family who blindly accused him of the murder, even though they knew he had nothing to do with it. But yet, their blind anger, their outrage, their feelings over what happened to that child drove them to this. Nobody wanted to look at the facts. Nobody wanted to analyze everything, to pour through all of the evidence and cast doubts on another person who was there, running from the scene of the crime and purposefully barreled right through him. He didn't get the best of all looks at the guy who knocked him over on his way past, but those 12 people, the judge and the scumbag prosecutor and his equally useless defense attorney? Those would be faces he would remember.

The driver would look down at his watch, showing it was 1:17pm. "Ah, dammit..." He grumbled before reaching up for the radio to call ahead. "Dispatch, this is unit 734. We're currently en route to Logan International, but we're stuck in traffic right now, over?" He spoke.

"Unit 734," The dispatcher spoke. "This is Dispatch. Deadline's a deadline. We'll get you the time you need, but we're ...making any pr...ses."

The driver looked at the radio for a moment, wondering what the cut offs were about before he then shook his head, figuring he might as well suffer this one. "10-4, Dispatch." He concluded the conversation with a rough sigh as he settled back into the seat.

Nobody really knew what to think as of right now as traffic continued to slowly slog along. Further into the tunnel they went until the bus and surrounding vehicles eventually come upon a traffic checkpoint that was allowing traffic through. The bus would slowly ease to a stop at this checkpoint.

"Hey! Not sure if you heard the news, but if you're on your way to Logan, you're gonna have to pass through Dewey Square Tunnel! Something about one of the other ones getting shut down about a few minutes ago because a hunk of concrete dropped on the roof of a car or something!" Shouted one of the traffic officers.

The driver looked back at the officer and shook his head. "You kidding me?!" He asked.

The traffic officer shrugged his shoulders in response. "I don't make the rules around here, pal. I'm just doing my job." He answered. "But hey, it's your funeral if you wanna try and get through this mess, huh?"

The driver would nod before he was permitted through, but not before he would look one more time at the clock radio. 1:20pm. Goddammit, and now with a hunk of concrete blocking a portion of the road, he had to put up with at least half a dozen convicted criminals who would undoubtedly get a little antsy and start acting up if the shit really hit the fan. On top of this, he had a schedule to keep. Besides, he needed to get back home and start gearing up for the upcoming home game the 4-1 New England Patriots were going to be playing against the 2-3 Cincinnati Bengals the following Sunday. Doubly, since Tom Brady was due back on the field at Gilette Stadium after serving a four-game suspension. Goddammit, Goodell just couldn't keep his hate boner away from ruining everyone else's good time.

Further down the tunnel the bus would go before all on the prison bus got a rather prominent eyeful of what was before them. It wasn't just a hunk of concrete that had fallen on a car, but it looked like a whole upper section of the tunnel had broken off! True, there had been quite a few leaks that were reported in the tunnel over the years and they had always been repaired, but this was going to set everything back! Ambulances were pushing in and out of traffic, trying their absolute hardest to get through, and getting a Life-Flight for some of them was going to be extremely difficult. Those that were fortunate to get through sped through the I-93 as fast as possible to save what lives they could. Those that were unfortunate to be caught under all that rubble... Almost nothing could be done. But even then, the few EMTs that wanted to be heroes fought tooth and nail against total inevitability before they were forced off.

It was around 1:30pm when the first tremor shook through the tunnel, causing all of the traffic to come to a dead stop.

"Everyone stay in your seats!" The guard shouted to all those on board, this being two drug peddlers, a violent serial rapist that was on his way to a supermax prison in upstate Colorado that was chained down anyway, two robbers and sitting in the front of the bus was Jack who only looked around for a moment, followed by an immense groan of steel, sharp crackling of concrete and trickles of water.

"...The fuck was that?" Said one of the drug peddlers in his mother tongue of Spanish.

"I said stay in your fucking seats!" The guard shouted back.

It would be the last thing he would say, when a sudden gush of water from the Atlantic Ocean burst through the thick concrete wall and violently t-boned into the side of the bus, along with several cars that were in the immediate vicinity of the bus as it was lurched onto its side. Even though the prisoners and guards on the bus were buckled into their seats were shunted into the side of the bus, two of them smashing headfirst into the window, lacerating their faces severely while another was smashed through it and hung out of it lifelessly with a shard of glass lodged in his throat.

Jack was fortunate enough - to a degree - to have fallen out of his seat and dropped into the aisle, slamming backfirst into the wall and knocked himself out when the back of his shaved head hit the wall, groaning out in pain. What would soon wake him back up would be the sensation of water spilling into the bus along with several hundred shards of glass that had scattered into the bus of various lengths and dimensions.

1:45pm. The I-93 tunnel was flooded, and water was still spilling in. Jack looked to be the only person alive and/or conscious as well as able to move around, to a degree. And now, he had to get out of here. He needed to get out of these chains. He had to be free. Moreover, he needed to get away from these psychotic freaks of nature that he had no business to be beside, not after the way the justice system treated him so unfairly.

The next ten minutes would see Jack fighting against time and against the surge of water that was constantly spilling in from the Atlantic Ocean. When he finally got the chains and cuffs off of his wrists and ankles, he stood up quickly before he scrambled off the bus and started running, tripping on various bits of rubble as well as people along the way.

Time was of the essence, and where would he go mattered little. So long as he was out of the tunnel and on dry land, that's all that mattered.

 

[darkangel76]

Change. It was the inevitable way of things. Rivers flowed and cut valleys, which became ravines, and eventually canyons. The tides ebbed and flowed, carving the shores, shaping the land. Change was not new. But sudden change...it was a bitter pill to swallow, especially when one realizes what change actually means. It means things get destroyed, torn down, ripped apart. All that is familiar, all that feels safe is taken away. Forever. But with change can also bring hope. It's that hope that drives you, that keeps even the tiniest flicker of sanity burning. It's the one thing that can make or break you. It's the one thing that can mean the difference between survival and...death.

Emma just shoved her phone in her bag. There was no sense in looking at the damned thing any longer. She had to change her plans. Thoughts about that test, her day, her life...they had to change. Right then. Right now.

"Get it together, Em," Emma sniffled as she readjusted her bag. There was another tremor and she lost her footing, falling against hard concrete with a loud thwack.

Emma groaned, knowing she bruised herself good with the fall. In the distance, she heard the wheels of cars screeching, the sound of metal crunching as the typical traffic on any given day collided onto itself. There was a wall of cars, jagged and broken. Some of the bodies within those once moving vehicles were lifeless and just as broken as the beast in which they rode. Others were stuck, hopeless, helpless. Still others were angry, determined to fight back whatever force of nature decided to piss on their day. But none of that mattered. The tremors kept coming and the buildings kept falling, crumbling like old toys ready to be brought to the curb on garbage day.

"You!" came an angry voice. Emma slowly stood up, brushing herself off. "You!" the voice came again. Emma glanced toward a battered car pinned between two others. She swallowed hard and rubbed her sore hip. A bit nervous, she pointed to herself. "Yes, you! What are you, stupid?"

A small fire ignited in Emma's chest. This guy was upset. She understood that, but to be so obnoxious! She curled her lips and took a step back.

"Ok ok ok. Look, I'm sorry," he said, trying his best to smile. His smile was nothing like the guy's who'd been crushed by the train. For a moment, she felt a wave if sadness wash over her. Quickly, she pushed it aside and blinked back the tears she felt beginning to form. "I'm just in a bind," the guy continued on. "You can understand, right?" he pleaded. "I just need a little help."

Emma nodded, a hand adjusting her bag as the strap caught her fiery hair just a little. "I...I suppose so," she said, rationalizing the situation. She took a step forward.

"Yeah. Exactly," the guy said, giving a nod. "Stuck in traffic. Places to go. Then this shit storm." He paused. "You can get that, right?"

And Emma could. She thought about the hospital. Her test. Her feet continued a slow pace forward as her thoughts flitted over the course of her afternoon. It had started out so very dull... and now? Suddenly, she'd reached the car. The guy looked up at her, his smile big and showing off his pointy teeth. He reached out and grabbed Emma's arm, gripping hard and pulling her partly through the window.

"Look, girlie," he rasped. "I don't have time for your starry eyed bullshit. Get. Me. Out." He brandished a knife in his other hand and brought the shiny blade up close so she could inspect it. He rested the flat of the blade against her ear, slowly dragging it downward. Deciding to toy with Emma a little, letting her know he meant business despite his situation, his let the edge of the blade just barely graze her throat. "Now wake up and get me outta here. Now." He brought the knife down, but his grip on her arm did not ease up.

Emma winced, her tiny body having no choice but to listen as this man held onto her. She did her best to work the buckle that was stuck. It took forever, but she eventually managed to free it. Next, was moving the bumper of the one car out of the way of the door handle. It had partially wedged itself underneath it, making it impossible to open the door. It had been hard, harder still because the guy refused to let go. But after much struggle, she got the hunk of metal to move and hit the pavement with a loud clang. At that, the guy thrust the door open, which caused Emma to stumble backwards. For a moment, the guy lost his hold.

And this was Emma's chance! She seized it. Not thinking, just running. She ran along the road, people screaming and crying and not one of them caring that she might be in trouble.

"Get back here!" the guy shouted, his steps heavy, quickening as he started to run.

Terrified, Emma glanced over her shoulder. He was gaining and that knife was glinting in the low light of the sun as it began to set in the sky overhead. Good god, what would she do once it was dark? Her thoughts ran wild! Everyone was panicked. Just then, another tremor. Emma fell. She heard the low groan of metal as a nearby building began to fall. Eyes wide, she let out a scream, but it was cut short as a hand covered her mouth.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Emma thrashed in the guy's grip, her screams muffled as she struggled against him. Again, the ground rumbled. The man lost his grip. The knife fell. Emma lunged for it and quickly jabbed it into the guy's shoulder. He let out a loud roar as he clutched his shoulder, crimson rivulets running over his thick fingers. Emma's face blanched when she realized what she'd done. Horror struck and trembling, she scrambled away with tears in her eyes and fresh bruises on her skin as she cried and the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

She was frightened. Alone. Hungry. She was never going to endure this...change.

 

[BlisteredBlood]

They say change can do a lot to the human mind. When there's positive reinforcement, it leads one to think that the worst is over. But whenever there's negative feedback of some type or another, it leads one to think that the worst has yet to come. The calm before the storm, if you will. But it was also said that humanity has the capability to adapt to and change with the ever changing climates, be they soaring high temperatures, freezing winds, thunderstorms so violent that even a single lightning strike could turn night into day as it rips across the sky like a stray gunshot aimed at no one in particular. But yet, it's also been theorized that while the human body can withstand even the most brutal injury, it will heal. The human mind, however... There's only so much it can endure before it eventually breaks down... And in that moment, the concept of choices, rationalizations, logic and such matters little when there's only one thing that matters most.

Survival. The drive to push ever forward; no matter how much pain you're in, no matter how much stress you're under, the lingering sensation of knowing you're about to die hangs in the air, suspended high above your head like the Sword of Damocles.