I’m living in the Abyss now. Not here, not in this utopia. No, this is a dream—the first dream I’ve had since everything changed.
But to be absolutely certain, I try to count my fingers, just like Dusk told me to do on that first night we met. Surely enough, it doesn’t work. The numbers jumble together?—
The pavement beneath my feet shudders in a wholly unnatural way. Crashing sounds, quickly followed by screaming, come from inside the nearest building.
I draw my eyes up in paralyzed terror, finding the structures shaking in a violent earthquake. The fact I’m in a dream isn’t at all comforting. Not when my dreams are prophetic. This could all happen—itwillhappen, unless I can somehow find a way to stop it.
And where are the Elohim? Why aren’t they here to help these terrified people? I hear children crying! Innocent children! They can’t wait for the heavenly saviors.
I have to go find the kids myself. I have to save them.
Before I can move, however, the road near me starts to collapse intoitself.
First, a car is lost to the sinkhole, but it keeps growing, gaping open like the maw of a massive beast. Another car falls victim to it. Pedestrians are sucked in. I even see the fucking dog slide over the edge, its panicked yelp ripping my heart to shreds.
The nearest high-rise building, already shaking and tossing debris, begins to collapse into the chaos. Its foundation slips into the sinkhole first. Screams of terror rise, louder and more panicked, mixing with the breaking of a thousand panes of glass. Glinting with a brilliant light, the shards of glass rain down, down into the chasm. The rest of the building soon comes tumbling down behind it, tossing out both concrete and terrified humans alike.
Still, I can’t move from where I’m standing. I physically cannot. I’m forced to watch it all, the death and destruction, like a spectator at a gladiator fight. The damage seems to spread outward from where I stand, leaving me free from harm. It’s almost as ifI’mthe one causing it.
But then, finally, I hear the unmistakable, growing roar of countless wings. The angels! They’ve come to help, just in time?—
No.
Gold-speckledlocustsexplode out of the chasm, shooting high into the air like a volcano’s plumes. Their dark cloud multiplies by the second, covering the sky in the largest, most massive swarm to ever exist.
My heart sinks.
I try to pull my eyes away from it, but I can’t. I can’t move, can’t even expel the bile that rises in my throat, despite the pain of its acidic burn. All I can do is wait under the darkening sky, my breath held in anticipation.
They’ve spent centuries training, all for this one day, and they have not come to kill. No, they bring a fate worse than death.
Torture.
All at once, they begin to descend upon the crumbling city with a ferocious appetite.
I watch, helpless, as they crash into the remaining glass building, dragging out flailing humans moments later. Others swoop down to thestreets, latching on to fleeing humans with ruthless efficiency.
On the nearest sidewalk, one man swings a crowbar at a fast-approaching locust—only to have it swatted away, the metal object colliding with the wall with enough force to break some of its concrete. He’s cornered, backed against the wall, utter terror saturating his face in the heartbeat he has face-to-face with his assailant.
And then the locust curves its rear stinger around, shoving it into the man’s gut. The soft flesh breaks with zero resistance. He screams and flails in agony, but the locust locks all four of its upper limbs onto him, rendering him immobile. For a few long seconds, it keeps its stinger shoved inside the man, pulsating, as if pumping something into him—and then rips it back out, releasing the man and bolting into the sky without a second glance.
The man crumbles to the ground, clutching his abdomen as blood oozes from the wound, screaming in agony. I keep my gaze closely fixed on him, waiting to see if he will die.
He doesn’t.
Within moments, his wound stops bleeding, as if whatever the locust injected in him is causing the wound to clot unnaturally quickly. It can’t be out of kindness. The locusts’ torture is supposed to last for five months—not ten seconds. If their venom doescause wounds to heal, it must be for sinister reasons.
The man’s screaming dies into a pained sob, his body shaking on the ground in a fetal position. Desolate, scared, alone, and abused.
And the same thing is happening to everyone else, everywhere I look.
Other than myself, I don’t see a single person being spared. Even if I could move, I don’t know what I could do to help them. I have nothing to offer them. Maybe I never will. I’m the one who is supposed to unleash these locusts, after all.
This is my fault.
I wake up covered in cold sweat.
For a moment, the complete darkness of the night terrifies me, sending my heart skittering. I can hardly see my surroundings, and there’s little of my paraphernalia I used to ground myself with after the nightmares.Light.I need light. I need to see?—
