The Reaper

Two friends are on their way to a concert when the Mayan's prediction comes true.

It was, in fact, the end of the world. They were headed to an Industrial concert to celebrate "The End of the World" as the Mayan's had predicted, but they all thought it was a big joke. On December 22nd, the sun would rise on bustling cities with people going to work or what have you.

So Mark and Janet had packed their bags, laced up their boots and headed to an underground Industrial concert. It was promising to have some of the biggest Industrial bands, and they blasted Combichrist as they drove down the highway. They were late, as always, but when the club was scheduled to go until sunrise, they weren't worried about missing anything exciting that might happen.

It was a 10 hour drive for them, and the car was full of two suitcases and all the fast food trash from the day. A pack of 24 water bottles was now half gone, and they had jokingly rested their gas masks on top of their bags, "just in case." Janet had casually leaned her seat back and set her feet up on the dash, 3 inch black boots adorning her feet. Mark had had to take his boots off, since it was hard to drive with them on. They were laughing about things that seem unimportant now, when they suddenly began to slow. There was a major traffic jam, cars bumper to bumper. It was about one hundred yards in front of a small tunnel that was being constructed, with fluorescent lights beaming in to the night.

"What the hell is this s**t?" Mark put his blinker on to move to the far left lane, but traffic had literally stopped and he was unable to move over. "Man, we're gonna be so late. Come on, move!" He yelled at traffic.

"We're already late" retorted Janet and they both cracked up. As the car sat still, the Jaggermeister from the now-empty bottle on the floor began to rise in their blood. It was but a few minutes before Mark squinted out the window and leaned forward.

"What the hell is that?" He pointed as a mysterious fog rolled towards them. As they saw it move out of the tunnel, the construction lights began flickering off, the darkness coming towards them. It was happening to the cars too, their lights and engines turning off as the fog overtook them

"What the f**k…" Janet muttered rhetorically as she leaned forward too. A silence began to fall upon the traffic. Janet looked at the car to their right and saw the man in the driver's seat panicking as he tried to get his door open. Then Janet tried her door and looked at Mark.

"The doors are locked."

"What?" Mark tried his own door, pulling a few times on the door handle and it wouldn't open. He clicked the button to unlock all the doors in the car but it didn't make a sound. Then their engine stopped. The anger Mark had felt building up began to turn to fear as he looked at Janet.

The fog was rolling closer, and all they could do was sit and stare as it came upon their car and engulfed them. The fog began to slip through the vents and Mark and Janet began to cough. It burned was all Mark could think with the last flickering of his brain, it burned like fire but it was freezing cold in his lungs. He'd never felt anything so painful. While his mind became muddled with death, Janet had covered her mouth with her scarf from the floor.

Thinking fast she grabbed her gas mask from the back, struggling to put it on. It took all her strength just to tighten the straps when it was finally on her face. It took her nearly 5 more minutes to stop violently coughing, once the clean air got in to her lungs. She turned to look at Mark whose head was slumped against the driver's side door, his hand still on the door handle that was locked. She could feel her eyes welling with water, his beautiful body now limp in his beloved 4-door SUV.

Janet looked around; she couldn't see anything through the thick fog. She sat thinking before she realized that Mark kept a crowbar on the floor of the back seat. She reached back and struggled to grab it in order to break the glass. She figured she was lucky to have survived, one of how many? Probably only one of one, because how many people had gas masks in their cars? She took deep breaths of the fresh air, thanking whom-or-whatever that she was alive. She turned around, sitting the right way in her chair and was stunned to see the fog was slowly dissipating. And through the dissipating fog, she saw a horror too indecent for man. She saw the Reaper.

Reviews

[zainul]

Amazing story.
Sounds crystal clear.
But saddening to think that Janet has to face the Reaper alone while Mark was sitting dead just inches away from her.

Great write.