Winner of the September 2023 Short Story Competition
Advisory: This short story contains some mild vulgar language.
Day 1: I have been given a digital notepad, of sorts, to journal my memories and perhaps any useful information I have learned about our past world. That feels strange to say so soon, while buildings still burn and families still hide away with dwindled hope. My journaling will be crucial to the continued excellence of the human race, or so I’ve been told.
I still sit in darkness. It’s a temporary quarantine they say. I doubt any of their intentions are true. I didn’t sign up for this hellish bunker. I had been running by when the ground unlatched beneath me as flames and ash tore through the sky. A tangle of hands pulled me down and the next thing I saw was blackness.
I will continue this journal, for my sake, not for theirs. Whoever they may be. Tomorrow is a new day, and hopefully one with a little more light.
Day 2: I woke with a crick in my neck from sleeping in a metal box that was far too cramped for my tastes. I remained in darkness for a time, until one of the walls slid entirely off to blind me with pristine light from the beyond. Without a lick of hospitality, I was brutishly ripped from my one time home and presented in front of what very well could be the ugliest pair of individuals I‘ve ever had the displeasure of laying my eyes on. The troll to my left was at least six and a half feet tall, dark slicked back hair, eyes that were too close together, and a nose that had been broken at least twice when he was a younger man. He didn’t introduce himself, so I coined him Shitter until further clarification. So, Shitter’s comrade to my right was impossibly taller, darker of skin, and looked as if he’d taken at least three dozen hammer blows to the head in his spare time. Quite the pair, Shitter and, oh let’s call him Pisser. The undisputed ugliest bastards left on this planet, or any planet I’d have to wager. And for all intents and purposes, they would kick my ass if I told either of them the honest truth. Unfortunately for me, they must’ve seen my thoughts through my eyes because they kicked in my stomach with such tremendous force that I nearly lost my breakfast from yesterday.
When my brain fog cleared and I could sit upright without immense pain, I glanced ahead. Before me, outlined in the stark light was the counterbalance to Shitter and Pisser. An absolutely angelic figure stood with a hand on her hip. Her wavy hair, dark as pitch, flowed down her back and over her shoulders like a majestic river. Her skin was free of blemishes, and those dark blue eyes, nearly midnight, pierced into me. Despite the flawless figure looking down at me, I could sense a tension, even a malice behind her gaze.
She made no mention of the digital notepad that was thrust upon me by faceless visages just before my short quarantine. She did, however, ask if I had any medical experience or related training. I had a very modest amount, but she didn’t need to know that. I presented my abilities in a grander manner than was accurate. I had first aid training, and even served as an EMT for six months or so. Does that make me a full-fledged doctor? Of course not, but I couldn’t let her down so soon. And besides, whatever else they would have me do if I wasn’t useful would be excruciatingly dull. Write in my notepad while I sit in God knows where underground? Or be shoved out into the rabble that remained of my home? Absolutely not. Maybe this way I can get to the bottom of what happened here, and see what remains of my world.
She didn’t display any overt joy at her good fortune, but she did gesture for me to follow her. As she walked, and I hobbled behind, she informed me that one of their medical staff was fatally wounded when they were loading into the bunker. What caused the apocalypse? Who caused the apocalypse? And who were these people? Not a clue. But maybe I’m on the right track to find out.
I was given a fresh set of clothes, access to the showers, and a generous helping of food before I was shown to my new quarters. They were not spacious by any means, but they beat the hell out of that metal prison from last night. Things are looking up already.
Day 9: The last week has left me too exhausted to log any of my thoughts. When I returned to my room after each day of work they put me through, I was left with only enough energy to shove some food down my gullet and pass out in the bunk. Who would’ve guessed that cramming thousands of people into a tin can in such short succession could cause a variety of injuries? Fortunately, I was not posted to lead any surgeries. They had a plethora of new tech that I didn’t recognize. Seraphina informed me that they had new gen medical technology that would take me months to get up to speed on despite my vast medical knowledge. Ah I forgot, Seraphina was the stunning woman who saved me from the horrendous brothers that started to beat me senseless. And now I’ve been given a lucky break on how to explain why I’m such a shitty doctor. Simple, they’re too advanced in the medical field. I’m a simple fool. Hopefully the humble route will really stretch out the wool over their eyes.
In my sparse assistance to the legitimate doctors in this yet to be identified bunker, I briefly saw a map in an officer’s quarters. It showed at least 250 levels, but I could not tell which level I was on. All of the medical operations I have been a part of so far have remained on the same floor. I’m really gonna be begging Shitter and Pisser for another kick in the pants if I find out I’m near the bottom of this overly expensive soda can.
Note to self, and whoever else I may get this to one day. Find out what floor I’m on. Make a plan for ascension. And for crying out loud, find out what is going on here.
Day 13: I have a breakthrough! After a few more days of toil and actually catching on to some medical proficiency, I simply asked a doctor I had worked with where we were. She informed me that we resided on floor 37 of 275. Additionally there are 11 individual medical facilities split across the bunker. I need to start speaking up. Trying to play a lone detective is more restricting than is required. I’m not supposed to be suspicious, so don’t start acting like such. Regardless, step one is complete. Now, time to see if I can be transferred to the top floors, or at least closer to the heart of this machine.
Side note: There have been deep rumblings, almost like an earthquake every other day or so. This could be a clue to the cause of the apocalypse.
Day 16: I’ve been in the bunker for just over two weeks now. I’ve become rather effective in assisting surgeons and more experienced doctors. I’ve started to befriend one of the shift leaders that I run into on my coffee breaks. He likes it bitter and black, the lunatic. Cream and sugar is the only proper way to consume the stuff. He still hasn’t told me his first name, but I know him as Doctor Donaldson. Dammit man, start asking more questions. Luckily he knows me as New Guy. Can’t particularly mistake me for anyone else since I still can’t hold the laser scalpel quite right, nor do I have the signature diamond crest that all the doctors and other officials seem to wear proudly.
If this journal ends here, it may be because they asked me to perform a surgery for once. In which case, my patient will most certainly die, followed by myself in short succession. Good luck future me.
Day 21: I ‘m starting to believe that I’m one step closer to my goal. I asked Doctor Donaldson his name yesterday, and it’s John. What a simple name, I could’ve guessed that if given a few tries.
I have started to wake up feeling refreshed and ready for the day. I think the knowledge that I have coffee waiting for me each morning is what really keeps me going above all else. The satisfaction I get from helping save lives, albeit total strangers that I am wary of, is still overshadowed by that caffeine hit I get three times a day. Do I have a problem? Nah, couldn’t be me.
I strode to the cafeteria this morning to get a fresh cup of coffee from the communal pot. As the hazelnut aroma danced at my nose, I overheard a conversation between my now friend, John, and someone who seemed to be a military captain of sorts. I recall the last half of what the captain had to say to John. “Floor 260, that is where we will need you. The Archon will need a medical staff on call if he’s to recover from his injuries. You have five days to answer the call. Good day.”
So, this Archon fella must be heading this entire shit pot from floor 260. Well the coffee is pretty damn good, so I can’t call this place a complete shit pot. Perhaps half and half. All I know is I need to be with John when he goes to floor 260. That’s my ticket out of here, or at least to the center of this mess.
Day 22: I woke today with a massive headache. It went away after my morning cup of coffee though, strange. I made my way to the prep room for all the medical staff. The room had rows of lockers filled with medical uniforms, surgical masks, and other miscellaneous supplies. As I was putting on my uniform that was absent of any official crest, I looked to my left and saw a nurse putting on his scrubs fastlike. Before he had a chance to bolt off to something far more important, I worked up the nerve to ask him what all of this was, and why we are all here. He looked at me peculiarly and said simply. “We’ve all been ordained by the Divine One. Everyone here has been selected by Her Holiness to serve in one way or another for the new world.” He put a hand on my shoulder and smiled. “I know things must seem strange to you, not being one of us, but the Divine One had you cross our path for a reason. Consider yourself lucky, you’re a special case.” Without another word he scampered off, latex gloves in hand.
What…the…hell. Well, it’s a great feeling whenever you realize you might be trapped in a doomsday bunker with thousands of religious nutcases. I have to sit on this, I might be deeper than I first thought.
Sorry, a cult! Really? Each day just keeps getting better. I sip my coffee that I still had from the cafeteria and put on the remainder of my scrubs. Will check back in tomorrow, more progress to be made with John’s voyage to floor 260.
Day 23: Last night, before I secluded myself to my room, John gave a modest announcement to a select group of nurses and doctors after our shifts. He went on to explain his duty to the Archon in such vague terms that nobody would have known the extent of what he was involved in, at least I couldn’t put the pieces together anymore than my eavesdropping could. He finished his report to the dozen of us that remained by putting another nurse, Sonya, and myself on the hot seat. John told the both of us that he only had one more spot remaining on his staff that would accompany him to floor 260. At least he’s honest enough to tell me I’m bottom of the barrel here. On the other hand, Sonya didn’t look too thrilled with John’s matter of fact statements regarding the two of us. She looked at me, her left eye twitching about like a nervous wreck. I’m not so sure she tried to smile, but whatever she did to her face will be overtly successful in giving me nightmares later. Thanks Sonya. John dismissed us for the night shortly after.
As I was shuffling out of the room with the rest of the crew, Sonya appeared alongside me with a manic contortion still riddled across her face. She followed it up by croaking out. “You don’t belong here. The Divine One will select me, he must. You have not given everything to Her Holiness like I have. I will not let you take this from me.” Her eye twitch held half of my attention during the tirade. “It would be best if you didn’t try to prove yourself in the next two days. I will pray for your demise if you get any ideas. A nonbeliever such as yourself does not deserve to live in our new world. Do you understand?”
I was so taken aback from her frantic display and the return of the cultist mumbo jumbo that I didn’t have an answer for her. So I tried to let her down the best I could. I told her, “Sorry, could you repeat that again? I couldn’t hear you over the broccoli in your teeth.” She didn’t like that so much. She cursed under her breath and picked at her teeth as she skirted out of sight.
Before I was able to get back to my room for some sleep, John tried to calm any nerves I might’ve had about the whole thing. He told me, “Sonya is correct, the Divine One is the beginning and the end of all things in the universe. She is everything to us. That being said, even she takes it too far at times.” He laughed at the situation and padded my back as he left me alone for the night.
I’ve never considered myself a particularly dark person, but I will need to find a way to remove Sonya from this equation. Even though I’ve been learning fast with the advanced medical tech, I cannot prove myself to have more worth than her. John really stacked the odds against me. I wonder if he only kept me in the loop out of respect for our newfound friendship. Something is quite strange about the whole thing. Could this be a trap for me? No, they don’t have to lay traps. I have no standing in this looney bin. Whatever it is, I have to go full steam ahead. Fingers crossed.
I’m sitting in the communal lounge area, rereading what I’ve logged so far. Maybe I missed something that could be crucial to my value to John. I only have a few minutes before I need to leave for my shift. A blue holographic list flashed on the wall adjacent to myself. I listed the shift leads and requirements for each staff member attending the shift. Of course, Sonya has been placed in the same section as me, under John’s lead. Dear reader, if there ever is a reader of my caffeine induced ramblings, know if I am dead, it was likely due to Sonya’s religious fervor causing her to poke a million holes in me or worse. Signing off till next time.
Day 24: I write this at precisely 9:47PM after a second straight shift with Sonya and John. I’m under the covers like a frightened toddler and doing my best to not spill my third cup of coffee that I shakily sip from between sentences. Before I get into the details of my second shift, I can safely say John won’t be able to pick Sonya for the position anymore. Now, will he pick me by default? Perhaps only the Divine One knows. It’s a joke, I promise. I haven’t been converted by these lunatics just yet.
I was in the ICU after a worker was crushed in the elevator shaft, moving crates of food to a lower floor. His arms were mangled beyond reason. John was leading the surgery to mend his arms or amputate if conditions became too dire. I helped Sonya and tried to focus on the man’s life despite my own toils. Fairly selfish of him to distract me from more important things. Good thing I’m a hospitable soul. After nearly an hour of doing my best to assist John in the surgery, he called it and determined the left arm was too far gone to be saved. He gestured for Sonya and myself to lower down the blitz-saw from the ceiling to prepare for amputation. Sonya walked to the designated location where the blitz-saw uncurls from the ceiling. When I reached the console to lower the saw, I noticed one of the dials seemed all rusted and falling apart. I turned it slowly to begin the process and readily moved into position to help Sonya hoist the saw over the patient. As the saw came down slowly but surely, it started to buck and jolt around on the track. I flinched for a moment and tried to grab the saw and bring it under control, but it bucked again and started its rotation that was accompanied by a humming fainter than an owl’s wings. Sonya frantically tried to jump to the handle and grab the saw. She slipped a finger around the handle but fell off before getting a solid grip. As Sonya redoubled her efforts to stop the saw from shorting out, it fell with all the force gravity allowed, and hummed directly into her scalp. It was awful, the noise was reminiscent of a work boot stomping into mud. Sonya never made a noise. She convulsed a few times, reached for her face, then collapsed in a pool of blood and plasma. I stood in shock – hell, I’m still shocked – as my biggest threat lay dead. Despite my panicked breath and sweaty palms, I tried my best not to smile at my good fortune. A macabre gift wrapped in gray matter, just for me. The Divine One couldn’t have been more generous if she tried. Ok, I know, enough is enough with the holy jokes. But I have to admit, the irony was delicious.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled that I didn’t have to get rid of Sonya on my own terms. That would’ve been embarrassing. A new experience for sure, but beginner’s luck can only take me so far. Whatever sideways luck came to my aid a few hours ago has my utmost respect.
Oh…someone is knocking at my door. The log may have to conclude for the night. Let’s hope the Divine One isn’t here to even the score.
Day 25: My morning routine followed the same steps as any other day. Shower, dress myself, find my way to the break room and my first cup of coffee, and most importantly avoid Sonya. Oh yeah, that last part has been taken care of. Too soon? Eh she was psychotic anyway. For the best.
I feel conflicted that I don’t have much remorse for the fallen cultist. But maybe it’s more inner turmoil that I’m not still shaken up from seeing a godsend in the form of a lobotomy so close. I was never good with guts and gore, but this time it helped me out.
Before my shift started there was an announcement over the intercom calling all on-duty staff to report to the main hall. I had nearly all of my scrubs on, so I finished dressing promptly and followed the rest of the doctors like a proper cultist.
When all 143 of us or so found a seat in the mail hall, the lights dimmed abruptly and a single man walked up to the dais. It was the same officer who gave John his assignment. His sandy hair was parted to one side with four freckles dotting only his left cheek. He cleared his throat briefly, then began to speak. “Thank you all for coming, the Divine One appreciates all of your loyalty. I assembled you here today to make a grand announcement. Your resident lead Doctor, John Donaldson, has been selected to serve the Archon personally. He is being granted this prestigious honor through hard work, perseverance, and above all else, his devotion to Her Holiness. Let us celebrate this great achievement.”
The officer gestured for the crowd to clap, and clap they did. They hooted and hollered and exhausted themselves over the whole ordeal. Meanwhile, John made his way to the dais to shake the man’s hand and say a few words of his own. When he stood before the room, he brushed off his jacket once, twice, then spoke. “Thank you, your Holiness, and thank you all for your constant support and assistance in getting this facility up and running. It means so much that I will share a place at the holy table with you all. I want to keep this brief so I will invite up the five staff members who will be sharing this honor with me on floor 260.”
John started to call out names one by one. Gerard, Sally, Debbie, and Jax all walked up to stand behind John on the dais. Then he spoke my name loud and clear. He found me in the crowd and winked. This was everything I had worked for to this point, but I’d be lying if I wasn’t scared shitless. The chance of something going wrong was never zero, and I couldn’t let that go.
I slowly made my way to the dais, rubbing my sweaty hands on my scrubs to calm myself. When I made it to John’s outstretched hand, I took it and clasped weakly. John, on the other hand, gripped me with such fervor and brought me in close so only I could hear his whispers. “You did good. You were very fortunate that you weren’t hurt during that horrible accident. If I knew you would spring that close to the action I may have been even more discrete with my actions. No worry though, it all worked out in the end. I knew her holiness picked you for a reason. She won’t let harm befall you. Not after all the hardships she has carried you through. Congratulations, you’re destined for great things. I can’t wait until we can sit and discuss this with the Archon.”
He let go of my hand and pointed for me to stand in line with the rest of his handpicked staff.
Well, my luck keeps getting better, or far, far worse. I really can’t tell yet. A religious nutcase who wants me dead because of the competition I possessed and now an even bigger cultist who will kill for me because I’m some messianic figure? I sure hope the world is dust and ruin up above because nothing could keep me as entertained as this. A normal world would be boring. I might be eating my words pretty soon.
Phew, two steps down. Time for the big leagues.
Day 33: I’ve woken for roughly a week now in a new room that is really about the same as my last one. A bed, a washroom, a small couch and ottoman, and the Pièce de résistance, a small portrait of the Divine One. Or perhaps, whatever these people believe she looks like. Her blonde locks curled and caressed her visage as they flowed out of frame. Her emerald eyes flushed with light, and her skin was free of any imperfections. Her mouth slightly upturned in a smile. Quite cliche stuff if you ask me, but whatever works for them, I guess.
I have yet to meet the Archon, despite John’s incessant optimism that it will be any day now. We were informed that we had to quarantine on the 260th floor until we were deemed safe for the Archon. That only lasted a couple of days, but I got to stay in my room, not a cramped box this time. I couldn’t be more grateful for that. Since then we’ve been diligently assisting any patients that are admitted to us. The illnesses and injuries from this corner of the bunker have been far more bland. A broken limb here and there with a multitude of scraps and bruises have been the worst of the injuries. I guess they don’t get their hands dirty up here like the basement of this refrigerator.
Oh my, how could I have forgotten. Something extraordinary happened when I reached the 260th floor. I was taken to the cafeteria after the quarantine period ended. I grabbed some grub, enough to restore my energy. As I was finding my way to a seat, I saw they had a coffee pot, still steaming, set atop a cafe station. I readily poured myself a large mug of the glorious elixir and mixed it with the last bit of cream they had. I nearly forgot about my food to take a gulp of coffee for the first time in two days. I promise it was not my hunger, thirst, or exhaustion that caused this, but I can say for certain that the coffee on the 260th floor was of a purer form. This was the best coffee I had ever had. The fact that these heathens would hide away the prime coffee for themselves and not share with the remaining sliver of humanity is gross misconduct and is arguably a greater offense than the apocalypse itself. Horrible people, but my God is this coffee delicious.
As for my three-step foolproof plan, I am nearly at its end. Despite John’s fruitless optimism, I think his standing within this cult and his insistence that I have some important part to play in their religion will carry me to the finish line of my plan. At least, in a perfect world that’s how it would go. And since there is no world left I’ll leave that up to whoever finds this journal on if that improves my odds or not.
Day 41: With every slice of information I gather, I grow increasingly confused at the logic behind this bunker and its inhabitants. I’ve tried to get to the bottom of this mystery with small talk between the rest of my medical team and any bystander I may encounter for a short time. Nobody seems concerned in the slightest. If anything, they’re overjoyed at the whole premise of the apocalypse. The apocalypse being foretold and it bringing in a new wave of prosperity for the divine followers and blah blah blah. I’m not a religious man, but I believe in Christianity, all of God’s followers will be in heaven at the time of the apocalypse. I don’t understand why these people are so glad to still be here, and jammed in a tuna can no less. It’s all a real head scratcher.
On one of my daily talks with John, a familiar face interrupted to pass along a message. It was the dark-haired woman who saved me after my first quarantine. She slipped into the room, whispered a few words into John’s ear, and left without another word. She did spare me a parting glance though. That same darkness behind her eyes remained as she trailed away.
When I felt she was gone for long enough, I spoke up. “She saved me, in a sense, when I first got here. Seraphina, right?”
John perked up at the whole situation. “Correct, that was Seraphina. A truly devout soul. I’m honored to serve with her. In fact, she provided me with a glorious piece of news.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I asked.
John grinned so wide, I thought his cheeks were going to split open. “We officially have an appointment with the Archon. Ten days from now, we will tend to him in his quarters. He has a scheduled checkup they would like me to oversee with my team.”
I smiled back at John to assure him of my own excitement, but I couldn’t help having a small darkness in the back of my mind. Like something could go wrong, horribly wrong. Of course, I’ve had a plethora of chances to have something bite me in the ass, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything at stake now of all times. I’ll cross my fingers for now.
Day 50: Tomorrow is the big day. I will be mere feet from the Archon. I do not know what to expect from their leader. I haven’t heard any specifics about them besides how close to the Divine One they are. Yeah sure, not buying that, but if it makes everyone else happy, by all means.
Nothing out of the ordinary has happened since Seraphina informed John of the Archon’s appointment. Business as usual. Well, until it isn’t.
I honestly don’t have anything of importance to log today. Perhaps I fear tomorrow being my last day on earth. I don’t want my last words to equate to nervous ramblings, so I will end this briefly like the stoic hero I am.
Day 51: I met John and the remainder of our team in the main corridor of floor 260. It was a broad hall with seamless metal plates covering the wall and ceiling. Drab stuff. The light fixtures hung overhead in a single file row, impressively illuminating the whole of the space. John’s demeanor was sterner than it usually was. He was laser focused on this moment, and would be certain the rest of us were as well. He went on to explain the importance of this achievement to all of us in an excruciatingly lengthy set of examples. All of which I let float out the other ear because I was rather worried about the chances of the Archon’s chambers providing refreshments, specifically coffee to us. If I start to get the completely uncorrelated headaches in a few hours, I will be very cranky to this high and mighty Archon.
Nonetheless, John finished his strained ramblings and led us ever deeper through the corridor. We made countless lefts and rights, I lost track of where we were some time ago. Eventually we came to a large black door, inlaid with gold symbols. Four armed guards were posted in front. John took to their requests and provided identification and the formal order while the rest of us stood in the back. After a moment, the guards nodded to one another and John before opening the door for us all.
Upon entering this new room, I was taken aback by the abrupt change of scenery. The metal panels and bright lights were washed away and replaced with polished wood flooring and soft chandeliers. I felt like the eras had turned back with the entrance to the Archon’s hall. At the end of this wooden and gold spectacle sat the Archon, or who I assume him to be, on his sturdy onyx throne. He was a rather tall man, but slimmer than myself. His skin was like a dark oak, and his eyes seemed heavier than was comfortable. He stood and walked down to us, who were already kneeling. His robes were tapestries of emerald and gold and ivory. He reached down to rest his palm atop each of our heads. I felt as if he gripped my head far tighter than the rest, but I couldn’t say for certain. In short order he had us rise to meet his gaze and receive affinity, as they called it. We stuck out our hands while he looked down at us with a slight smile and placed a small red wedge in our hands. I have a feeling they stole this idea from someone, but this would not be the place to air such grievances. We all chewed the small crimson food and swallowed it. It was rather bland, but it was pleasant in an odd way.
After the brief ceremony had concluded the Archon saw us back to his chambers where we began the medical procedures. It started as a brief wellness check, but when the Archon removed his robes I could see that at least half of his torso was not flesh but metal. Where the cold metal and dark skin met there was a hideous red scarring, almost as if his body was rejecting the partial torso prosthetic. John took the lead in analyzing the infection along the run of the prosthetic, he swabbed at it with a disinfectant and took a few small flesh samples. The Archon never even winced at the procedure. His eyes, I noticed, were lasered on me. Unlike Seraphina, I couldn’t get a read on anything behind those pupils. They were like dead eyes in a corpse. I kept back the shiver that tickled up my spine.
John quickly finished packing his equipment after the samples were stored away, and gestured for us to see ourselves out. As I was walking away I heard the Archon thank John and mumble something else to his servants. His voice was like dry leaves scraping across stone. I had a feeling the Archon was far older than he appeared. I would’ve originally assumed he was in his late 50s but something wasn’t right here.
I now sit in my quarters after John debriefed the team and explained to us that we would be making daily visits to the Archon for the foreseeable future. John said with such righteous fervor, “The Archon is of the highest priority. This is a great honor for us all.”
Despite his innate insanity, I really did like the man. Of course, he would not hold me back from escape if it came down to that. And of course, if there is anywhere to even escape to when all this is said and done.
Day 55: I stretch my legs after my morning cup of caffeinated goodness with cream. Ready for another uneventful day of biopsies and general maintenance on our suspect neighborhood cyborg. Since my first encounter with the Archon, I’ve pestered John about my ability to speak with him or be more involved in the medical procedures. I haven’t been granted either, despite John’s insistence that I still have an important role to play in the near future. He assured me that soon I will be given my chance to have my name told for generations to come in the light of the Divine One. I don’t doubt his honesty, but I doubt the reality of his religion.
I go through the rest of my mind-numbing routine of sanitizing, dressing myself, sanitizing again, then grabbing another cup of coffee for the walk to the Archon’s chambers. Unfortunately the old fool doesn’t drink coffee, so I have no access to caffeine while we are in his presence. On top of that, the guards don’t let us in with anything besides our clothes. The medical supplies never leave the Archon’s chambers. So of course I’m stuck with chugging my coffee every morning on my walk over.
As we arrive to receive affinity from the creepy cyborg man, we are ushered into his chambers with more haste than usual. The Archon started to limp today. His condition has clearly worsened since we’ve started tending to his infection. As I help Jax run vitals, John derobes the Archon and steadily works at his infection that now has a slight ooze leaking from the jagged red lines of his torso. John had a concerned look on his face and asked the Archon if he may use a new medicine to treat the infection. The Archon nodded his approval. He still showed no pain from the poking and treatments that could not have felt pleasant.
In short order, John administered an antibiotic to the Archon and passed along detailed instructions to his servants on how much liquid and food he should ingest for the next 24 hours. I turned to leave with the rest of the team, but the Archon reached out a lanky arm, like a wayward tree branch, and grabbed my shoulder. I almost jumped out of my skin at the sensation, but I tried to remain professional and turned to the ill man. He leaned toward me and spoke as softly as he could muster. “I know you have been patient, young one. Tomorrow we will speak. There is much to discuss on the matter of your arrival here.” I had no words for the Archon at first. I just nodded, then sputtered out a “thank you” before trailing off with John for the day.
Tomorrow is my big break, I can feel it. I will sway the Archon in his ill state to grant me some way out of here, or some answers to what is going on here.
Day 57: It is all worthless. I write this to you along with all the prior days on bits of notebook paper, napkins, even a used envelope. This must be shocking, but my plan to sway the Archon did not work, in fact it backfired in almost the worst way possible. Enough of that for now, let’s start yesterday morning when John was all over me before our appointment with the Archon.
I had mentioned to him the Archon’s words to me. He became overjoyed and started going on and on about how he was right and he knew I would be of crucial importance to Her Holiness. He treated me to a shot of whiskey he had stored away in his office for such a momentous occasion. I’ve always been more of a vodka man myself, but with my life on the line, I asked for a double. John obliged happily. We spent the remainder of our free time with small talk about our families, I didn’t have much of one before doomsday. However, John had a wife and four kids. He was quite somber mentioning them and told me none of them made it to the bunker in time. I gave him the best pat on the back I could muster, then mentioned the time to him. John composed himself and joined me to meet up with our team once more.
I forgot my second cup of coffee on the way to the Archon’s chambers, but I decided I could do without rather than being late to such an important opportunity. Brushing through the affinity and medical procedures that John said were going according to plan. He informed the Archon that he wasn’t out of the woods just yet, but things were looking up. The Archon smiled for the first time since I met him. His teeth were actually quite shiny and not falling apart like the rest of him.
As the rest of the team, including John, were escorted out, I awaited the Archon’s words to me. He rose from his bed and reclothed himself in his tri-colored robes. He waved for me to follow him into another room behind his bedchamber. We walked through another hallway that transitioned back to the metal paneling from the beautiful woods and golds in the other rooms. He sat me down in a well-cushioned chair and he sat across from me. A small table sat beside each of us, a steaming cup of coffee on mine, just water on his. My gut reaction was to grab the coffee and chug it down, but the Archon started talking, and distracted my instincts. He said, “So, I’ve heard much praise from John and even Seraphina about you. Both of them are inclined to believe the Divine One has sent you here for an important cause. Would you agree with these sentiments?”
I took my hand away from the coffee and put it in my lap. “I’m not really familiar with your religion, so I don’t know how much I could play a role in some prophecy or whatever they possibly think. I’m not opposed to learning though,” I lied.
“I think you can play a role in our prophecy without a doubt. The Divine One has been known to summon nonbelievers unto us in times of need. I believe that is exactly what you are.”
“I appreciate your optimism, Archon. What will you require of me to help? And if I may be so bold, could I ask a favor of you in exchange for helping your cause?”
The Archon was visibly taken aback at my statement. “Do you not see your action to help thousands of people as a reward in itself?”
At that moment I knew in my mind that I had to leap at the chance to get some information, or help my own cause. I may have been too ambitious for my own good. “No, unfortunately it is not. I would like to know what is going on here and if there is a way back to the world above.”
At that moment, the Archon’s eyes became dark pits, and for the first time I could see the darkness behind them. His entire demeanor shifted. The hobbling old fool was now a cunning veteran. I was out of my element in this room, alone with the most powerful man left on earth as far as I could tell. He calmly reached over to take a sip from his water and spoke. “What do you think is going on here? Let’s start with that.”
I told him how I thought I was just a lucky survivor who was in the right place at the right time. He informed me that I was mostly correct. He said, “Yes, you were in a perfect place to be saved by our overeager workers. They likely wanted to find a new worker for the medical team which you know, and have done a rather good job up to this point. The one thing you’re not understanding is what is going on here, correct?”
I nodded deeply, having nothing else to give the old man. He continued on his speech that was gaining more malice with each sentence. “I created this bunker, this near utopia to serve as a temporary holding center for all members of the Divine Church. We will populate what remains of the Earth when it is safe to return to the surface. I believe that is where you will come into play.”
I didn’t like the path the Archon was going down in his ramblings, but I made it clear to him that I didn’t quite understand what he was going on about. Again, he elaborated further on the situation we found ourselves in. “Oh you fool, or perhaps this is all because you are far from a fool. The droves of followers who answer to my every whim are all fools. They believe in this religion that I made up in my younger days as an experiment to gain power. As you can see, it exceeded all of my expectations. There is no Divine One. It’s all a hoax, and so many foolish souls bought into it without a second thought. And this apocalypse, this doomsday, it’s all fabricated as well. There was no prophetic coming of fire that would cleanse the Earth of nonbelievers. Just me and years of toil to acquire an apt amount of nuclear weaponry that would cause a chain reaction globally. Leaving nothing but dust. I know, you think I’m mad, but I’ve stocked enough supplies for my followers to live for a few generations down here if need be. We will be fine, and I will have my place in history above the likes of Napoleon, Alexander the Great, even Jesus Christ himself. Who will be left to question my legitimacy?” He cleared his throat and sipped some more water. “So, I will have you go up the shaft to the surface to see if it is habitable yet. I made sure this bunker wasn’t near any blast zones. If you die, I will know I have to wait a few months before sending another devoted member of the Divine Church up on a mission of the utmost importance. I thank you for being so ambitious, it made it all the easier to pick the first sacrifice, oh pardon me, hero I mean.”
I was flabbergasted at the revelation. I didn’t know what to do. At first, I was shocked that the Archon would spill his entire facade to me without any pressure, but when I realized he had no intentions of letting me live, I understood.
Now I sit in another cramped box, waiting to be set free to the surface. They embedded a tracker on me that relays my vitals to a medical staff on standby. I have not seen John since he left just before the revelation of me being a cattle ready for slaughter was bestowed upon me. I am not allowed to bring anything up with me except an unadorned uniform. If you’re reading this, I hope you are safe from the Divine Church. I hope you are far from them. These notes have been bound in string and medical tape that I was able to acquire before the Archon had guards escort me to a new cell. I shoved them into the out valve duct near the main elevator shaft. I do not know where they will land, but hope is the only virtue that remains in me. I will likely die in the coming hours in a destitute wasteland of ash and brimstone. If I am the last of the free world then I will shout, I will rage, I will cry out. In the end, I fear it will all fall silent on a dead world.
