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Stop, Act 1

This is the last time.

It never fails that each and every time they send me one of these wide-eyed interns to help work on the mock-up architectural model, it gets ruined and I lose another year of my life from the stress of starting from scratch with a deadline just hours away. The offense this time? The genius klutzed his way into the edge of the model and promptly spilled my chai latte all over the base. Completely ruined. If HR wasn’t so damn preoccupied with scraping the bottom of the low-wage barrel and actually gave me an assistant with the experience and qualifications I’ve asked for time and time again, I wouldn’t be the last one here on a Friday night at god knows what hour in the morning. Mark my words, after presenting this project to the investors on Monday, I am taking a well deserved extended vacation and they'll be lucky if I ever come back. But thankfully, it’s good as new. You would never guess that an idiot nearly cost me a two million dollar investment by somehow missing the course on learning how to walk in a straight line.

The office is always kinda eerie this late at night. Silent, dim. Even the cleaning crew has left, the whirring sound of their push cleaners on the carpet long gone. I take one last look at the model sitting on the long table ready to be boxed up and shipped to the build site. The hard part is finally past me, for now, I can just go home and-

“Oh shoot.”

I look at my watch. 1:07 a.m. I check my phone. “5 Missed Calls”...I let out a long and resigned sigh. Ariel is going to kill me.

I got so caught up in “disaster prevention mode” that I completely forgot about the special dinner my wife had planned tonight to celebrate the occasion of finishing the project. A dinner I was supposed to be at three hours ago. I check my phone again and see that “5 missed calls” notification at the top of the screen. A chill creeps up my spine as I imagine the reckoning waiting for me at home. Formerly my place of rest and refuge, now harboring a spectre of righteous vengefulness that has had three hours to plan my demise. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I had thought to send a text...

Well, there’s no point in worrying about that now. I know if I called her at this point she wouldn’t even pick up. The dye has already been cast. She will want to hear my feeble reasonings in person. I hang my head as I make my way down to the back entrance of the office, locking up behind me. Maybe she’s worried and will be happy to see that I’m ok? I chuckle mirthlessly at my own wit.

Definitely not.

The night air is warm even though it’s the middle of January. Coming from the perpetually frigid northeast, I could definitely get used to these mild “winters.” The Downtown Quarter is calm and quiet as I walk along the sidewalk towards my stop. Strangely, not even the ambient background sounds of the city are there; not the stray cats who are always seemingly fighting to the death just out of sight, not the wind whistling between buildings or even the constant stream of non-offensive pop music streaming from the outdoor storefront speakers. It’s been so long since I’ve been in this part of the city at night that I begin to feel an irrational fear creep up in the back of my mind. I can’t help but look over my shoulder every few steps to make sure no one is following me. For the fifth time, I check my phone to make sure the bus is still running. I’ve rode this same bus for as long as I can remember, but never this late. Ever since I moved into the city, fresh-faced, full of hope and a with crisp new degree framed on the wall, it’s been my first and only choice for transportation. It just made sense to me; if i’m going to be stuck in traffic the same as everyone else in a car, why pay hundreds of dollars a month on a car note, insurance and gas? Actually, now that I think about it, that’s missing too; the traffic. The people. No honking cars, no ornery cyclists, no street performers...not even the homeless. The streets are completely vacant.

The ninth time checking my phone as I near the corner that leads to my stop, it says that the bus is running right on schedule and only a few blocks away. I check my surroundings once again, almost hoping to see some sign of life...but not too big a sign. I’d settle for a piece of trash floating by, pushed along by the wind. When did the city get this clean? I really look at the ground for the first time and it’s perfectly spotless. No signs that there were ever any people here. There’s no oil or tire marks on the asphalt, no gum between the cracks on the sidewalk. A pit of uneasiness begins to form in my stomach as I turn the corner and pick up my pace.

But when I turn the corner, what I see stops me dead in my tracks. The stop is...gone. Not just like they took the sign down either. The entire structure has vanished in its entirety without a trace. I stand frozen, arms in mid-swing, eyes seeing but not comprehending. I’ve been using this same spot for years and in one night it’s as if it never existed at all. I turn to look across the street to the stop going in the opposite direction and it’s still perfectly intact. Curiosity begins to take over as I take tentative steps towards the now vacant space. The sidewalk simply ends for fifteen feet and picks back up on the other side. The bench, canopy and trash can are all gone as well, not even their imprints on the ground remaining. All that’s left is a matted patch of black and brown dirt.

“What the…?”

This night just gets better and better. I decide to face the music and call Ariel. She might be starting to actually worry about me by now. I pull my phone out and see nothing but a black screen that says “No service.” In the middle of the city? I take a couple steps forward trying to see if I can get a better signal. My first step onto the surprisingly soft dirt releases a smell as if something has been rotting and fermenting under the surface for days. As I step across it, my shoe sinks a half-inch into the ground. Still no service. Actually starting to get annoyed with this whole situation now, I try restarting it. It shuts down...and the screen stays black. I press and hold the power button and nothing happens. Wonderful. Of all nights to be a useless brick. I look to check my watch because I know it’s been long past the time needed for the bus to round those couple blocks.

1:07 am. Breathing in deep through my nose, I slowly exhale. It’s no big deal, i’ll just fix my watch and phone when I get home. All I have to do is walk down to the next bus stop on my route. I’m not sure what happened to this one but there’s gotta be a perfectly logical explanation. Maybe the city got complaints because of the smell and sent an emergency crew out to investigate. Feeling somewhat better, I start walking towards where the sidewalk picks up again when my paranoia spikes. I quickly glance over my shoulder realizing how much the developments with the stop and my faulty tech had distracted me. I hadn’t heard anyone approaching but I just have to make sure. Looking over this time, right at the edge of my vision, someone is there. At least, I think I saw someone. I spin in a long slow circle. It was fleeting but I know I saw something just a few paces behind me. All in black, shifting…

I turn back and start walking even faster than before. Just gotta get home.

As I have been walking, the street lights have been getting gradually dimmer. At first I didn’t really notice but it’s definitely significantly darker now from when I set out. As I walk from one block to the next, the alleyways loom as gaping tunnels of pitch-blackness. Whatever it was that startled me earlier hasn’t made a second appearance. I’m probably just tired. Eyes playing tricks on me. The sound of my shoes on the concrete echo through the night, magnified by the absolute silence of my surroundings . I’ve been walking for at least twenty minutes and haven’t come to another stop on my route. Even more strange, I still haven’t seen another person. I can’t have been the only person in the entire city to have pulled a late night at the office. With the street lights getting dimmer and dimmer I look up at the sky to see if the moon is full and lighting the way for me. But there’s nothing there, not even the stars. The sky is nothing but a black sheet spread out across the edges of the horizon.

“It must be...cloudy?” I ask no one in particular.

I don’t even believe it as i'm saying it. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky the entire day. The more I look at it the more it feels as if the expanse of darkness is bearing down on me, coming to suffocate me in total blindness. I look back down at the road and keep walking. It’s really gotten dark now. The light posts are barely emitting any light at all. The visibility has dropped to less than ten feet in front of me. I don’t even want to look over my shoulder now. My pace has picked up to a jog as I search for a stop, any stop at this point. I just need to find something. Then, in the distance to my left, I see a speck of brightness. It’s not much but it’s the only beacon I have so I turn from my route and make my way towards it, hoping this whole ordeal is nearing its end.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been jogging towards this light, but it’s been far longer than I originally estimated. It’s been getting steadily brighter, so much so that it has become hard to look at directly. It’s a cold, pale light, unlike any of the other street lamps I’ve passed. As I begin to near it I see that it’s illuminating a bus stop. Heaving a sigh of relief, the cramp pangs vanish as I sprint the final distance to the stop. Almost there.

Panting and bent over, I catch my breath at the oasis of light. Thankfully, somehow as I entered the stop itself, the light became much less overbearing. Still very bright but no longer searing to look at. Looking around the perimeter of the stop and the surrounding pavement, I can’t see any other structures. The direction I just came from is now just blackness. The only thing I can see within this small circle of light, the radius of which is no more than sixty feet, is the street and the stop behind me. I turn to take in my new surroundings and it becomes immediately apparent that something isn’t right. The sidewalk is in total disrepair, covered in cracks and weeds. It’s discolored, marred with streaks of brown stains from who knows what substances. I take a step back. The bench looks like it’s been there since time began. The steel is rusted and warped, cracked with jagged edges, no longer useful for anyone trying to avoid tetanus. The canopy is full of holes and looks like it could fall over at any moment; the whole setup looks like a deathtrap inviting the unaware. If the city earlier looked strangely clean and pristine, this stop looks like decay embodied.

“I think I’ll stand.” I mutter.

But most peculiar out of everything is the signpost. Walking closer to get a better look, it didn’t appear to be made of any type of metal or plastic I’ve ever seen before. It looked...alive. I then realized that the sign itself was the source of light that brought me here. It’s cold unnatural light coming from all parts of its surface. The post at the top of the ten foot pole only had a single word on it’s triangular banner. I squint to make out the craggy writing.

“Stop.”

“Huh, well, this looks like my best bet to finally getting out of here.”

Now all that’s left to do is wait.

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