Take Away the Saints

Where Dreams Die : Prologue || Andrew John Wood

Empty Walls

The apartment was empty, devoid and desolate. Like all apartments, it had held its fair share of inhabitants, some of them brought with them mirth and exuberance, however those were considered a rarity in Limbo city. The majority only brought with them disaffection and despondency.

The apartment itself was in mourning, not because its walls were empty, its floorboards rotting with dilapidated disregard. No. It was in mourning for Helen Walker. The latest resident, one so full of joy and brightness that the apartment had forgotten what melancholy was. Of course, all that changed...

Just beyond the threshold, war and death were prevalent. The apartment watched the flashes of rapid gunfire that pulsed under its door and felt sated...

It listened to the wailing of the SWAT team and laughed.

As the shots declined and the screaming ceased, it reveled in the silence.

The apartment door gently opened and brought with it a familiar face, someone who visited often and spent hours staring at its stark walls with rage. Someone who shared in its mourning.

The man closed the door on the corridor and leaned against the door both out of breath and unsteady on his feet.

The corridor's silence was waning by the second... More SWAT charged down the corridor and amassed right outside the apartment's door.

The man heard them and sighed.

He flicked on the light, revealing his once black hood and mask that were now dyed crimson with blood. He tried to walk forward and nearly collapsed, in the end he had to drag himself alongside the very walls. The apartment didn't mind the fact that the cream walls were now coated in his blood as he advanced.

The man stopped and reached out to caress the empty walls. The apartment shuddered as his gentle fingers painted a symbol in blood.

The door crashed open and brought with it ten SWAT, all armed to the teeth, all ready to gun the man down in an instant.

The apartment decided to intervene and overloaded its own power supply.

As the room was momentarily enveloped in darkness, the man rolled a metallic object across the floor and tensed his entire body.

The SWAT followed the rolling object with their flashlight and yelled a warning.

The room exploded into flames as the man dove to one side and slid across the floor. The SWAT began to fire in panic as the fire enveloped them entirely.

They screamed and fought against the fire as if it were an attacker, all the while the man opened fire on them with his pistol. In a matter of seconds the room was once more full of the silence of death.

The man plucked himself from the floor and watched the fire as it devoured the advancing team.

He turned around once more to look at his design. He didn't see the heavy set man cross the threshold; neither did he hear him advance.

The man was still bleeding from his injuries. The apartment knew that under his mask he would surely be pale from blood loss.

In desperation, it turned its lights back on to warn him of the intruder.

The masked man stared up at the lights with confusion. In that moment of weakness, the heavy set man charged, both men collided and smashed through its cheap plaster walls.

The big man speared the masked griever into the next apartment. Together they crashed through drywall after drywall, until finally the injured man was far from the apartment's sight.

"I'm really not one to enjoy the act of killing but in this circumstance I think I'm going to make an exception..."

Between the blood loss and the concussive force of being slammed through so many surfaces, it was a safe assumption that Wormwoods taunt fell on death ears.

Wormwood grinned and began to crush his windpipe with a heavy boot. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialed his contact in the press. The contact answered on the fourth ring despite it being 4am. Such was Wormwood's power and influence.

He looked down at the man who had been a thorn in his side and pressed down harder.

"Anarchy will no longer plague this great city. Print those exact words."

With that, he ended the call.

"Everyone you killed can be replaced... All the damage you have done to MY city can be repaired... In time people always forget... Soon this city will have never heard of you, every trace that you even existed will be purged. You will die for nothing at all..."

Wormwood removed some of the weight to let the man speak.

"I've already won... I won the moment they saw me. I gave them hope. It will spread like a plague across your city, and soon this city won't be your city at all."

The man began to laugh uncontrollably. Wormwood felt fear envelop him. The very idea haunted him to his core. He let it wash over him, then it quickly ebbed like any other wave.

Wormwood smiled down at his enemy and resumed choking him.