Project: Shadow Walker
The Time Before
A melody of chaos lilted through the open window, singing with a wail of sirens and the flashes of red and white lights. The streets below had grown vacant as terrified citizens hurried into the safety of their homes, hoping that the spreading stories of Death's return were nothing but rumors and hearsay. But the man above knew the truth, knew that in the coming hours millions would be dead and even more would be dying. He knew that the endangerment of humanity was, once again, irrefutable, and the fragile balance that had once controlled the world would return.
Those working on the floors below believed that the next few hours were critical. They hoped, prayed, and wept to find a solution, a cure that would allow humanity to conquer this newest threat and continue their paradisiacal reign. But their efforts would only lead to failure, for that was the will of their savior, of a god, of the man who listened to their tireless work from the top floor of the Elden Laboratory, the man whose name was Dom.
Dom contemplated at the sound of their struggles, remembering a time when the panic that now consumed the workers below had driven him to near madness. That had been a millennia ago, before he had uncovered the secret of cellular regeneration, before he had introduced immortality into the human population, before the Death Cure. Those days of hysteria, of fear and doubt and exhaustion, had led to his greatest inspirations and his most desperate discoveries and, within the span of mere hours, he had been placed in a position of near-divinity. Now there were songs sung in Dom's name, prayers whispered at the base of his tower, stories told of his miraculous works and creations, all due to that single act.
But, they were wrong to praise him; Dom could see that now. It had taken years, centuries even, but the clarity of his error had bloomed with each passing day. The world had grown monotonous and dull. The safety of life had halted the necessity of discovery. He had limited the potential of humanity, blocked the answers of both scientific and religious query, by ridding the world proper motivation. Humans have a need for death.
After countless years and millions of attempts, Dom was correcting his mistake. A virus, both elegant and effective, was coursing through the living population, countering his Death Cure and reintroducing the death that humanity had feared so long ago. A final creation, a damning act of regression from the man who had been a savior.
The door to Dom’s lab opened. Marcus, a senior member of his staff, stepped on to the gleaming white tiles. His breath was ragged, his clothing wrinkled and disrupted. Marcus was a drowning man looking for a life preserver, but while reaching out he had found the slick scales of a shark.
“Do you know what’s going on?” Marcus’s voice was hoarse and dripped with fear. “People are dying, Mr. Elden, actually dying.” His voice wavered for a moment, trying to comprehend the meaning of what he had just said. “Dom you need to fix this. You have to….” Marcus began coughing, lightly at first, but the coughs grew violent. He aimed his mouth into the crook of his elbow, trying to force himself to breathe and end the barrage of spittle and blood.
Dom remained quiet through Marcus’s outburst of fear and illness. He was never the kind of man to falsely comfort in a dire situation. He believed in being forthright, never withholding the information that had become socially acceptable to deny. So, Dom remained silent.
Marcus pulled away from his elbow, his coughing fit finally yielding. He glanced at his blood-covered sleeve and then stared into Dom’s eyes, his fear growing. Dom could see the different stages as Marcus’s fear manifested into shock, causing the poor man to tremble in uncontrollable panic.
“Please….” Marcus’s gaze drifted back to his bloody elbow, contemplating his own inevitable demise. “If you can’t fix this….” His breaths came slow and deliberate, his chest showing signs of struggle as it pulled oxygen into his lungs. “I’m going to die. If you can’t fix this Dom, I’m going to DIE!” Marcus’s fear had advanced into angry terror as he shouted towards his only hope of salvation.
It was time for Dom to talk. He knew that. Marcus had been a loyal partner in the past. Dom had even considered him a friend—almost. The occasional groveling and obsequious nature of respect that Marcus showed him grew old quickly. It was something Dom had had difficulties dealing with since his Death Cure was proven. Too many people tried to get into his good graces, though they had difficulty articulating why.
“This is right, Marcus.” Dom’s words were calm and methodical, each syllable contemplated individually. He was telling this man that he was doomed; he was pronouncing Marcus dead. “You will not understand it, and you will never forgive me.” Marcus was studying Dom’s words with an educated understanding. “Things are finally progressing as they should have before I interfered. It’s the way that Life intended.”
Marcus stared blankly at Dom. His emotions were obvious on his face: confusion, concern, fear and finally, revelation. Marcus’s face changed from desperation to rage. The man before him, his chosen god, had betrayed him.
“So, this was you?” The accusation was posed as a question. Marcus was still too careful around Dom to risk a false statement. “You revived Death?”
Dom thought briefly. He’d never imagined death as an actual physical being. It had been one of the rumors that led the religions that worshiped him. Dom killed Death and gave humanity a true dominion over their lives.
“Yes, Marcus, this was me.”
Marcus shook at the distressing truth. His hopes were gone. His beliefs were shattered. His life was over.
“Should I even bother asking why?” The malice in Marcus’s voice sank into Dom’s mind like quicksand pulling at a defeated animal.
“You won’t agree with me, Marcus. You see eternal life as a right, as something we humans have earned, but this is a choice I had to make. There was a need that death fulfilled, and I destroyed its role. I have found the need, and I have integrated it once again.”
Marcus’s coughing fit returned, but he made no move to cover his mouth. He coughed into the air, displaying all his discomfort and pain openly. The coughs turned violent and a bloody foam began oozing from Marcus’s mouth.
“You’ve…killed me… Dom.” Marcus’s final words pushed through his coughs and gags. Leaning over, Marcus began to vomit blood, trying to clear his airway enough to breathe. His chest was heaving slower as his stomach was trying to push harder. The foam continued to flow from his mouth, becoming thick when Marcus tried to breathe at the same time. With an intense effort, Marcus raised his eyes toward Dom. Stories of anger, fear, betrayal, and family all screamed through the dying man’s gaze. Then, in an instant, the stories fell silent and their creator went still.
“I suppose I have.” Dom’s words fell on the corpse of a man that had, almost, been a friend.
The virus took an ugly route. Dom had tried to design a subtler and less painful way to rid the human body of his cure, but none would take. This was the first, the only successful method of returning death to humanity, and it was brutally effective. To see it make a victim of the man who had worked beside him, was as marvelous as it was vicious.
Dom walked out of his lab, stepping over the dead man blocking his doorway. It was time for a change of scenery. His joints felt stiff as he walked and, though he had not yet contracted a cough, the tickle in his throat told him of the virus’s advancements within his body.
Dom meandered through the hallways toward the elevator
