The Warehouse

Vartan scrambled up the large collection of rocks and debris that lay at the base of what he assumed was some large edifice for transportation once upon a time. He really wasn’t sure, and honestly, he hadn't been taught much about such things. They had bigger concerns in the colony. The shifting winds had brought erratic weather to the valley, and he desperately wanted to secure the supplies they’d need in case they were… stuck again. When he was young, he’d count the days in a vain attempt to keep time. He lasted longer than most of the adults. They gave up counting after a few months, and some made it a few years… but they all gave up eventually. Time really didn’t matter anymore; it was an arbitrary concept. They only needed to know when the sun rose and when it set - everything in between was fair game. If the weather cooperated, they could enjoy a day out on “The Field”.

They called it “The Field” but that was being generous. It was a dry, dirty expanse of land that wasn’t as damaged or filled with debris as most areas were. Mainly because years prior, Old Water and a crew of his men had systematically cleaned the area of the debris that inhabited it - he thought people needed something to feel relatively… normal. That was so long ago, however, and now Vartan quietly chuckled to himself when he thought of normal. He had been born into it and knew nothing else. The sky had always been cloudy and red, and if the sun ever shined through, it was more frightening than anything else. His mother once told him that the valley used to be covered in a lush, green expanse of vegetation. He was used to seeing trees stripped bare and blackened rocks covered in mosses and lichens. At one point in his life, they’d had some livestock, by some miracle - but ultimately, there wasn’t enough food to keep the animals healthy and alive. People were hungry.

Old Walter said he knew of a place - something he called a “warehouse” that was located some miles away. Across broken earth, ruins, debris - dangerous territory. Walter had left one day with ten men to bring back supplies. Days later, only eight came back, but they had acquired a large amount of food and supplies. He’d worked for the Company before all of this, and he knew of their vast supply of synthetic consumables. Walter had actually worked on them, he once told Vartan. He was some kind of food and agricultural scientist for the company - and worked in the valley to produce various creations for them. Vartan’s father had worked for the company as well; that’s how his family happened to be lucky enough to have been living in this protected valley when It happened. Vartan still couldn’t get a straight answer about It. I mean, he and his peers who’d been born after It always referred to It as It. As if no one wanted to give a name to the cataclysm that had befallen the world. Vartan always assumed this was global; there was no communication, of course, and any who had tried to leave the valley boundaries were never heard from again. It was mostly untouched, save for the ruined land and vegetation. There was some geographic upheaval, and some ruined structures, but mostly - not so terrible. At least Vartan thought.

Walter had access to a large underground aquifer that the Company had sealed to prevent contamination - so they always had fresh water, at least. There were still catch stations out in The Field that would catch the acrid rainwater when it fell - it was routed to the filtration station Walter had built, and cleaned. It could be consumed, but it tasted oddly flat. Mostly it was used to irrigate what agriculture they had left. Walter had saved much equipment in the underground lab when It happened, and thankfully they had room to grow small crops, lights to grown them under, and limitless power to run everything. The company had seen to it that the lab had one of it’s patented perpetual engine processors installed - as long as it was maintained, it produced enough power for the group’s needs. There were about 50 families that survived the events, hunkering down in the vast underground complex the Company had built. This was where everyone still lived, most of the time. A concrete jungle out of a Brutalist Architect’s nightmare, the facility stood sturdy and had kept many people alive for some time. Vartan didn’t really know how many years, but he knew he was close to eighteen or nineteen now. And he did know he was born 6 months after It. He had seen some families perish in his day - unable to survive the conditions, or simply out of despair. Several men had simply walked out of the compound, screaming and shrieking, into the burnt forest and died somewhere in its wilds. They ran out after sundown - which you NEVER do. Old Walter didn’t have too many rules for the colony, but everyone agreed that being in by sundown… and only out again at sunrise, was the safest.

Vartan knew there were… things that no one could really explain. Walter had his theories, but he’d never studied them closely, so he didn’t know anything about them. In spite of this, he knew after dark, the night-gaunts would come. He called them “night-gaunts”,after some old books he’d read, but they were… some kind of creature. No one really knew. Jason Braddocks claimed to have seen one, once, when he and Darren Hart were racing home after dark. He knew Darren was running behind him… then, suddenly, he wasn’t. He heard only the shrieks of a man who was in mortal terror for a moment. Then silence. Braddocks stopped for a moment and saw a flash of something big… and pale white, before he continued running at breakneck speed until he was at the ion doors to the compound. Screaming like a madman, he plowed inside and sealed the door behind him. He was never right after that. Always twitchy. Said he was “marked”, and he was convinced they were “coming back to claim him”.

Vartan just thought Braddocks was nuts - he’d lost his family during It, and was never really right after. Always volunteered for the more dangerous jobs and missions, like he had a death wish. It was no surprise that one day they found his body, twisted and mangled on the rocks below the old dam. There was no reservoir behind it; just a large concrete structure that stood in between two large rock outcroppings. People would walk and explore the lake bed all the time - often finding artifacts that must have been submerged in the lake before it evaporated. They even found a mostly intact old car (Walter had called it a “Tesla”). They’d managed to salvage it, and with some work… it kind of ran. For a while. They blew out the tire axles driving it over rough terrain and that was it for that. But for Braddocks - it was like he fell off the top of the dam. But… his face was contorted in a way that left Vartan a little spooked. Eyes open. Like he saw something that frightened him. It was a frightening world, a frightening life thought Vartan and he put it out of his mind as he crossed the terrain to go to the Warehouse again. The protein based packets never expired (good old company technology) and they needed more. Ever since Braddocks was found dead… no one wanted to go. They were spooked. But Vartan wasn’t. He volunteered to go.

He’d climbed up the concrete edifice, and ascended to the top. He figured this must have been a pylon or support for some kind of bridge over the chasm. He’d heard stories of roads, and vehicles on them. Whatever WAS there was long gone. Only a small bit of a long iron bar remained, and it connected to the land near the top. Vartan raced quickly over the makeshift bridge. Just a few more miles to go. The sun was long past high in the sky, and was waning down towards the horizon. If he made it to the Warehouse, he could spend the night there safely - there were some facilities with cots, for a security team long gone. He hurried across the bleak and ruined landscape quickly.

He alighted to the top of a small hill, and he could see the area down below - and the remains of the old warehouse. A huge, massive building. Old Walter once said it was akin to “The World’s Largest Costco” as he laughed. Vartan had no idea what that meant. But he saw it - in the middle of all the ruined and scorched land… an old metal fence with barbed wire still stood around it in places, but most of it was smashed and fallen. The building itself was scorched but intact; it was built to withstand doomsday, Old Water had said. It certainly did just that, thought Vartan.

He noticed something on the ground not far from where he stood. Something… shiny. It was odd - he knew this area had been thoroughly explored and stripped by Old Walter and his crew years before. This was odd. He walked over, and bent down to see the object. There, in a small patch of lichens and moss, was a silver locket on a chain - Vartan had seen similar decorative pieces on some of the older women at the colony, but this… looked a little different. It was damaged a bit - but still had a luster that the others didn’t. He lifted it up, and it shone in his hand. He looked at it - it was clearly a heart shaped locket… it could be opened. There was something inside. Vartan struggled to open it, and it was more difficult than he was prepared for. So when he heard the screech of… something in the distance, he lost his concentration, and then his balance - and deftly fell down the hill, clutching the locket and cursing. He swore up until the minute he hit his head and everything went dark.

Vartan opened his eyes to darkness. He couldn’t see a thing - just the pitch black of the night, staring back at him. He’d been out too long - and the sun had gone down. It was about 500 yards to reach the doors of the warehouse… but he wasn’t sure which direction it was in. Before he could panic, he noticed that his hand was… glowing with a soft white light. He could see it! He could see his hand - when he opened up the fingers from his balled fist, the necklace sat… but emanating a soft white glow, bright enough to light his way. Vartan turned to the right… he saw the warehouse! An inhuman screech reached his ears - far away, but getting closer. A second voice joined the guttural chorus - another scream, but this one a perfect fourth above the pitch of the first one. Vartan did not stop to think and his feet carried him swiftly towards the door of the facility. He could swear he felt the weight of the wind on his back, and the changing of the air currents around him. He screamed and found himself opening the door, slamming it shut behind him, and throwing the locking bar into place. A loud thud hit the door and the muffled cries of something reached Vartan’s ears. He could hear his heartbeat in the dark, but he felt… something. He turned around to peer at the vast darkness of the warehouse. In the pitch, Vartan squinted and suddenly saw a pair of eyes open in the black ink darkness. They glowed a pale yellow, and all he could see were the eyes in the dark. Suddenly another pair opened. And another. And another. Vartan saw a sea of glowing eyes in the dark, stretching back into the vastness of the warehouse. He breathed, and held the locket tighter. He stood firmly, and took in the sight.

It was not Vartan that made the next move.