One

The streets are quiet today.

I used to be able to hear a pin drop from miles away, but I lost that power long ago. I strain my ears against the silence and meet with nothing. Not even the rustle of the breeze or the twitter of birds.

New York City in silence. It's unnatural.

Sticking my hands in my pockets, I start to walk down the street. My eyes move from one building to another expecting doors to open. Nothing. I'm walking down the middle of the road, which is disturbingly empty without cars to clog its lanes.

It feels like one of those apocalyptic movies. Except those usually do have cars in the street. Empty ones, yes, abandoned by people desperate to flee the city. No matter what the mass exodus scenario there would be some sign people once lived here. The cacophony of abandoned pets, perhaps, whining for their masters. Or smashed glass where burglars took advantage of absent police.

But this? This empty shell of a city? What could have happened to cause that? Where did everyone go?

I need to find answers. It's my gift- my curse. I always hunger to know more, to understand.

The subway is empty, too. The zoo. The prisons. All of the buildings are still here. New York City without New Yorkers.

But that can't be. There has to be someone somewhere. I find a payphone and dial a number. All I hear on the other end is static. I go to the nearest electronics store and turn on all of the television sets. Static.

I admit I'm starting to feel concerned.

"Hello!" I call out. My voice reaches out until it touches the sky. Nothing. "Hello!" I hardly recognize my own voice. It feels alien, like the rest of this place. "Is anyone here? Can anyone hear me?" No answer.

I break a window with my fist. The pain of the glass cutting into my skin shoots through me, but as soon as I pick out the shards my fist starts to heal. No one comes to see the source of the noise. No one even cares that a man just punched through a window.

No one. Nobody. Nothing. No answer. Static.

They say that Hell is a place of eternal torment. Fire and brimstone, thirst and pain, horrors beyond any nightmare. They talk of screaming, agony, and things you can never escape from because there is no escape.

They know nothing. Where I am now is the true Hell. This silence, this emptiness, this horrible shell of a city… This is worse than any place of torment religion could think up.

There is no escape from this. I understand that… much sooner than I would wish.