When I was twenty-two the apocalypse started, the first cloud broke over Virginia. I remember the expression Titanic wore as we watched the broadcast, I couldn’t properly read it but it scared me. Things changed drastically at that point. I can hardly describe the descent that took place.
The clouds, Titanic told me, were formed from ghostly spirits that couldn’t get into heaven and wouldn’t descend to hell, some were worse than others. There were those that were menacing and some just confused or lost. Either way they crowded the sky and the blocked out the sun they also stopped the signal of the Tesla; the pulse couldn’t pass through the spirits. As a consequence phone signals failed and electronics stopped working. People tried making batteries, a twentieth century alternative to electricity but the batteries couldn’t be produced fast enough so they put out recipes for a thing called acandle. It was very medieval and fragile.
As for me and Titanic, reporting on the supernatural became a fatal occupation. The spirits weren’t stupid, they knew about mass communication and the effects it had. That was about the time they went after anyone, public speaker, politician, journalist, that could possibly be looked to for help or hope.
Then the demons came. Just when I’d thought things couldn’t get worse but I was wrong, obviously…I was also lucky Titanic was with me. She made the demons afraid; I guess because she truly wasn’t afraid of them and fought them flat out. She found all sorts of symbols that blocked the demons, trapped them and some that protected against possession. We did our best to publish these secret but it was tough. It was no longer Café daily but Café whenever-we-can-distribute-without-being-gutted. Titanic also found out how to taboo the telephone signals, by performing rituals on the line that allowed it to pass through the spirits. I burned through them. However, tabooing a line took so much energy and skill that very few could afford a professional to perform it; and if they did they’d have to pay for bodyguard because the demons targeted houses with tabooed lines just out of spite.
The police department achieved a taboo line that others could access. So calling 911never failed, it was just tricky to get to a crime scene in time to save anyone though.
Safe havens broke out across the nation. They were chain stores who’d tabooed their lines and could afford to set up demon protections and allowed people sanctuary. The most successful chain was Coffee Bean.
Things were stagnate, no communication, no activity from the world’s leaders. It was harder to find stories on the supernatural. It’s not because they weren’t happening, oh no, they happened every day but it was still tough finding out about them. When we did find them we had to decide if they were worth reporting or just too common.
Titanic and I traveled the world, pretty much, trying to avoid staying in one spot too long especially after having published a magazine. However, she fancied New York and we visited there more than any other city.
It was strange to think what I’d believe as so impossible as a sixteen year old girl would be the reality I lived in as a woman.
Sadly, I hadn’t gotten any closer to finding or helping my parents, it seemed while all the other ghosts and demons were creeping in this world they were slipping away.
One night I woke up night to find Titanic gone. I knew then I’d never see her but I just couldn’t accept it. She had always believed the apocalypse wasn’t the end or even the problem she said it was a distraction. She was looking for the head honcho that great demon she’d told me about before.Water, Fire, Blood, fear the demon they will make, by crash of air he will wake, by the blood of the breeze his cage will break.
With all her other predictions coming true I knew this one would too but I really didn’t want to believe it. One thing I learned to identify in the apocalypse was the end of a person’s life, that point where the duress finally gets to them and their will to live dies. It’s this time in people’s lives when ledges and leaps from sixty story buildings becomes a friendly option; to sleep for eternity as a broken bird, crashed across the pavement in a halo of red. For Titanic that ledge was metaphorical and it was her reckless search forTheDemon. And that night, well let’s just say she’d jumped. I figured one day I’d find some ledge to jump off of too but for the time being I’m too afraid of heights for any of that to be appealing.