Author's Notes: Okay, as promised, I am revising this story. I know the last chapter wasn't all that different, but here is where I start to really edit stuff! Hopefully you guys are enjoying these revisions!

Updated: February 11, 2021

Chapter 1

It was midmorning when the bombing started.

At first, none of the students nor faculty knew what was happening. They had not been prepared for something like this. Wendy was sitting at her desk, taking notes as she should, when they heard it. First, there was the humming of the engines, like a swarm of bees buzzing to life, the sound growing louder and louder as the planes grew closer. A few of the girls lifted their heads towards the window, temporarily ignoring their teacher in order to chance a glimpse at what could be making that awful noise. As the planes drew nearer, even the teacher stopped. The girls got out of their seats and rushed to the window, their faces and hands pressed against the glass.

Then came another noise. A whistling of sorts. It was low and soft, but soon it grew louder and higher in both pitch and volume. Some girls cried and put their hands to their ears in an attempt to block out the deafening sound. Then one by one, more whistles came. Everyone desperately searched the skies to see what was happening, then one girl pointed towards something small and black in the distance. Then another, then another, until the entire sky was filled with small, black dots.

None of the girls knew what they were, but the teacher did. She started commanding the students to crouch underneath their desks and protect their heads, but it was no use. None of the girls were listening to the ramblings of their teacher, for it was too loud to hear anyway. They were all transfixed on the sky full of black dots as they fell closer to the ground.

When the first one touched the surface, it shook the earth.

The walls of their school trembled and quaked. Girls cried and shrieked as they saw the giant explosion of reds, oranges, and yellows erupt in the distance. They could see the black, billowing smoke rise to the heavens. The noise was deafening.

Girls clapped their hands over their ears in a vain attempt to stop the ringing that was no doubt sounding in their heads. Tears streaked down faces, wails filled the classroom, and the distinct smell of urine wafted in the air as no doubt some girls were wetting themselves. Then the second black dot hit the ground. Then the third, and the fourth, and so on. One after the other, each black dot erupted, and cleaved the earth in two until there was nothing left but enormous holes in the surface and smoke spiraling into the sky.

Wendy stood there. She did not cry. She did not scream. And she did not cower. She simply stood staring at the window as her world quite literally came crashing down around her and the only thing that surfaced in her mind was her family.

Were her parents safe? Did they find shelter? Did one of the explosions go off where her father worked? Or worse, their home? Wendy knew her brothers were alright for the moment. Their school for boys was only down the street. They would be safe for now, but the same could not be said for her parents. As Wendy stood at the window, a pit settled in her stomach, making her dizzy with worry.

The teacher was trying to calm the girls and direct them out of the classroom. But where would they go? They were not prepared for this. No one was. London had never seen so much destruction in all its years of existence. The city was unprepared for this. Wendy was unprepared for this.

One of her classmates grabbed her arm to steer her towards the exit. Wendy was in such a state that she could not even identify the face of the girl who was leading her to the others running to the basement of the school. It was strictly prohibited for students go down there, but Wendy supposed that desperate times called for desperate measures.

When she reached the bottom step, she saw hundreds of girls and teachers cowering together in the dim lighting. Some had rosary beads clutched within their hands and their eyes shut tightly as their mouths moved rapidly, praying silently for mercy. Others clutched each other, whispering goodbyes to their friends. The smell of sickness and urine filled Wendy's nostrils and her nose turned up at the scent. Every so often another thunderous rumble would shake the foundation and girls would cry out, holding each other tightly as the lights shook and flickered.

The principal could be seen from a distance. The older woman stood in the center of the mass, demanding attention from the chaotic girls. Wendy strained her ears to listen above the noise.

"...have the underground shelter and are safe. We must pray that students from our brother school reach us safely…"

A cold shiver ran down her spine. Her brothers. Their school did not have an underground shelter to seek refuge from the explosions. Were they safe? Where did they go? She must get to them. Wendy felt her heart pounding inside of her chest, propelling her legs forward. Towards her brothers.

She began making her way through the masses, not particularly caring if she elbowed a girl here or there in the process. As she drew closer to the exit, more people began to notice her movements. Some shouted and pleaded with her to stop. A few even grabbed ahold of her arm in order to keep her in the relative safety of the underground shelter, but she shook them off with ease. Wendy had only one concern in mind and that was getting to her brothers. When she finally reached the metal doors and pushed them open, the principal was upon her, grasping her hand firmly.

"Stop, child!" She shrieked. "If you go up there, you will most certainly perish!"

Wendy paid the old woman no mind. She yanked her hand free and darted through the doors, running up the stairs as fast as her aching legs would allow. Reaching the first floor of the school, she saw to her horror, that the walls and ceilings were riddled with cracks, ready to crumble at a mere puff of wind.

She raced down the halls, passing classroom after classroom, each room strewn with notebooks and papers, desks and chairs toppled over. Wendy could still hear the explosions outside, sending tremors through the school and causing her to stumble towards the main doors that would take her outside.

She almost cried in relief as she pushed the doors open, but it was quickly replaced with horror as she saw the state of her once beautiful city.

London was in ruins. Blazing fires raged everywhere and thick, black columns of smoke billowed up into the sky for miles. The once clean cobblestone streets were blown apart, now replaced with sizeable craters. The air itself reeked of ash and burning flesh, a smell that Wendy hoped to never have to endure again. The repulsive scent turned her stomach and she felt bile rising in her throat.

She carefully made her way along the street-if one could even call it that. The once pristine buildings were long gone and in their place were piles of brick and debris. The trees that lined the road were on fire, their green leaves now blackened and dead, disintegrating as they made their way to the ground. Glass littered the street and Wendy winced as she felt the shards cut into the soles of her shoes.

People covered in ash and dust ran past her in every direction. Some held dirtied rags to their mouths in a vain attempt to not inhale the smoke that was filling the streets. Some were hunched over, their arms clutching themselves while drops of blood dripped onto the ground, painting the street in red. And some, to Wendy's horror, were collapsed on the ground, their limbs bent in awkward angles and their bodies blackened to the point that they were unrecognizable.

A sob escaped past her lips and she clasped a hand to her mouth, withholding the tears that wanted to stream down her face, for it would do no good in helping her find her brothers. She kept her head down and marched onwards, forcing away the image of John and Michael lying in the street, broken, bloodied, and dead.

She walked a little faster, anxious to get to her brothers' school. For the most part, it seemed like the explosions had subsided. There was no longer the roaring sound of engines or high pitched whistles, only crumbling buildings and injured moans.

Wendy almost collapsed into tears when she saw the school still intact as she rounded the corner. She raced down the street and up the steps leading to the main entrance. When she pushed on the doors, they gave way almost instantly and she rushed inside, only to screech to a halt. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Quietly walking down the halls, Wendy saw only empty classrooms. Papers scattered the floors and desks were overturned, not unlike the state of her own school, but there were no students.

"Hello," she called out hesitantly.

She received no response. It was as though every student in the building had disappeared, including her brothers. Wendy racked her brain for any possible explanation as to how a hundred boys just vanished.

Perhaps they reached her school and were hiding in the underground shelter, safe and sound? Wendy hoped that was the case as she raced back out onto the streets and made her way to her school. She was sure that she looked mad to the people she passed, with her hair a tangled mess, her face covered in ash, and her dress in tatters. But she supposed that they looked no better.

Rounding the corner, her destination in view, she ran into something solid and warm, falling backwards and hitting the cement with a harsh thud. Wincing, she looked up and immediately began to apologize to whomever she had collided with, but paused when she saw the old woman standing in front of her.

She was hunched over, cloaked in rags that hid her figure. The only thing exposed to the light was her face, and Wendy silently wished that this was shrouded in darkness as well.

The skin was shrivelled and pale, with milky eyes and split lips. Her nose was long and pointed and her hair was scraggly and gray. When the old woman noticed Wendy gazing at her disfigurement, she smiled widely to reveal cracked, yellow teeth, causing Wendy to shudder. The old woman raised a bony, wrinkled hand out and Wendy took it hesitantly, trying not to cring as the clawed fingernails dug into her skin.

"Thank you," she said, the perfect example of proper manners.

The woman did not respond for a moment, gazing at Wendy with unseeing eyes. "You wish to know what's become of your brothers."

The statement startled her and she took a protective step back, no longer wanting be in this woman's presence. How did she know that Wendy was searching for John and Michael?

"Who are you?" she asked uncertainly, trying and failing to keep the trembling out of her voice.

The old woman continued, not bothering to answer Wendy's question. "You're brothers have been taken by him."

An involuntary shiver ran down her spine. "Taken? By whom?" she questioned, keeping in mind that these might very well be the ramblings of a delusional woman.

She shook her head and then, faster than Wendy imagined could be possible, the old woman snatched her wrist, her bony hands snaking around Wendy's arm, her nails digging into ivory skin. "He has taken them. There is no stopping him when he wants something."

"Who is he," Wendy asked impatiently. All she wanted was to get to her brothers, and here she was, entertaining the delusions of an old woman. "Where did he take them?"

It was at this moment when she heard the roaring of the engines. Wendy looked up to the sky to see that another wave of planes were now flying above them. She was struck with fear as she heard the familiar whistling and saw the black dots being released. She quickly turned to the old woman who was now hobbling away faster than Wendy expected and she panicked. "Wait! Who has my brothers? Where did he take them?"

The old woman did not stop running, but she did yell out behind her. Wendy strained to hear her voice over the roar of the engines.

"If you wish to find your brothers, seek out the shadow! He can take you to them! But remember, in that place, nothing is as it seems!"

The old woman disappeared and Wendy was left in a confused daze, but she could not dwell on the curious things she heard, as the whistles were getting louder and explosions could not be too far behind. She darted into the first building she could find that was still intact, locking the doors behind her, although it wouldn't do much good against explosions that shook the earth.

The building was eerily quiet, only the occasional fluttering of papers. Wendy picked her way cautiously through the dark space, the only light coming from the cracks and holes in the walls that allowed slivers of sunlight to slip through.

She didn't know what to do. All she had was the ramblings of an old woman speaking of shadows and mysterious men kidnapping her brothers. Wendy shivered as she remembered the old woman's tight grip on her wrist and absentmindedly rubbed the skin, as though that would erase the touch.

Suddenly, a crash echoed in the space.

"Who's there," she called out, and received the scraping of chairs as her only answer.

Swallowing nervously, Wendy slowly crept her way down the hall towards a darkened room where she heard the noise. She had the sense to pick up a lamp that was thrown on the floor and held it up in front of her as a makeshift weapon, her hands trembling slightly.

Wendy stepped into the doorway, immediately embraced by darkness. Another crash sounded from the corner and she raised the lamp above her head, preparing herself for a fight. As she inched forwards, something moved and that was when she saw it.

It was difficult to describe, for she had never seen anything like it before. It had the shape of a young man, but there was no actual man-just the shape. Instead of what should have been flesh and bones, there was only a darkness. It was not solid either, more like a vaguely transparent gas that moved like water. Wendy struggled to name the dark figure that stood before her, and the word that came to mind sent a cold shiver down her spine. A shadow.

That old woman had told her to find a shadow, and now here was one right in front of her. Wendy wasn't sure if she should be elated or terrified. If the woman was correct, than this shadow could lead her to her brothers. It the woman was wrong, than this shadow was a monster that would probably kill her. Wendy wasn't sure what the shadow would pick, but she had little desire to stay and find out.

Wendy dropped the lamp to the floor, a loud thud resonating throughout the space, and ran. She was not sure if she could outrun a shadow, or if shadows even ran in the first place, but she was given her answer when a bang sounded behind her. Wendy looked over her shoulder and saw that the shadow had flung open the doors of the room and was now flying straight for her, faster than what seemed possible.

The shadow was drawing closer and she had nowhere else to run. It seemed as though things could not have gotten much worse, but then a sound that she had grown quite accustomed to in the last hour began: the roaring.

This time, however, it was right above her. She felt the urge to scream in frustration, but there was nothing she could do as the whistling soon followed. Wendy knew then that there was no escaping this. The explosion would be right here and no amount of running could save her from the huge blast that was about to occur in five seconds.

Five. Wendy stopped in the hallway. She didn't feel the need to continue running, when there was nowhere left to go.

Four. The shadow was getting closer and closer as she stood alone amongst the soon-to-be remains of a burning building.

Three. The whistling was penetrating the halls and her skull. The ringing in her ears was quite painful, but Wendy embraced it, for it would soon end.

Two. She silently prayed for her brothers and her parents. A single tear trickled down her cheek and a small smile graced her lips as she thought of only happy memories of her and her family. She hoped to see them again someday.

One. The shadow was upon her as the first explosion went off right above her head.

Wendy saw things go in slow motion just then. She could see the first fires blazing above and around her and flinched, preparing herself for the pain that she would no doubt have to endure. Then she felt a warmth, but it was not the burning inferno that she expected with raging fire. It was more like lying in a grassy meadow with the sun's golden glow shining down on her.

She hesitantly opened her eyes and felt more than saw dark arms wrapped around her. They were not solid arms, but she still felt them. It was a faint whisper, a phantom, but Wendy had never felt so safe in her life as the shadow wrapped its body around her and lifted her off the ground, flying through the fire and into the night sky. Wendy saw the beautiful city of London burning below her before her eyelids grew heavy and she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.