Fall of Hope (Book 1): Real Heroes Don't Wear Capes by R.M. Grace Page A

windows decorating the carpet.
Heavy, scarlett curtains flap widly as the wind drags them outwards,
creating a sinister atmosphere that has both men on alert.
    “ What
the hell is that?” Blackout points to the outside where the
storm clouds linger ominously. Despite the familiar darkened forms
still brewing over head, a red tint curls inside. At first, he feels
compelled to write it off as nothing but the product of the knock to
the head, but when Gunner slips in beside him, he knows it is not.
    “ Is
it sunset?”
    How
long have we been in here?
    “ It
can't be sunset.”
    Blackout
uncovers his wrist watch from beneath his long sleeve and grimaces.
The hands remain at three minutes past ten in the morning. Shaking
his arm, he listens for the ticking, but hears nothing.
    “ Fantastic,”
he scowls. “If it's not sunset, then what?”
    Over
the darkened clouds, the crimson becomes more prominent as it leaks
into the surrounding sky.
    “ I
can tell you what it isn't,” Gunner states before setting his
feet into action down the stairs. “Come on, let's move.”
    Standing
there a moment longer, Blackout thinks back to his walk earlier.
There was nothing abnormal about it as far as he can recall.
    I
was too busy worrying about his drunk ass to notice anything else.
    When
Gunner calls back to him, it snaps him from his thoughts and he sets
his feet into motion. He tries to ignore the banister where finger
marks and smudges of blood cling, but finds he can't.
    Where
did this come from?
    As
he treads over the glass, the outside chill creeps beneath his
clothes, causing his insides to involuntaryily tremble. As he reaches
the bottom, the stillness of the building grips him.
    Written
on a golden wall plague is the number seven.
    We
were on level nine, so we must have fallen to eight.
    In
contrast to the screaming and the building's groans as it was tearing
apart, this is much worse. The emptiness makes him so uneasy he has
to refrain from calling out.
    “ The
calm before the storm, hey?”
    His
whisper doesn't travel far, so he doubts Gunner hears him. He is too
busy staring down the left corridor and straining to hear.
    “ Do
you hear that?”
    “ What,
me?”
    “ Not
you, listen.” Despite the situation, Gunner cannot help being
relieved about hearing his mate's sarcasm. It sure makes a change
from the shouting they both engaged in last night.
    Blackout
listens. Other than the dull moaning of the building and the vague
falling of more objects, he can hear nothing. He watches as Gunner
paces past him and motions for him to follow.
    “ Somebody's
crying. Can't you hear that?”
    Gunner
breaks into a jog down the corridor, and stops outside each door to
listen.
    Blackout
follows, but keeps his distance. He keeps glancing behind him because
he cannot dispel the strange build-up of dread within his gut. He is
familiar with creatures, or people hunting him, but this is
different.
    From
the window, he sees the chaos outside. Billowing smoke drifts from
the office buildings opposite now too. As he strains to see out the
broken glass, he spots people inside the flames. They appear as
nothing more than silhouettes before they plunge from the top floors
and hit the ground below in silence. Blackout leans over to see the
dark masses still on fire, then turns away in disgust.
    Why
are none of them screaming?
    Blackout
growls and turns away. Despite the chaos, the world falls too quiet
and still as though he is having a demented dream.
    “ Hey,
over here!” Gunner shouts as he pokes his head out from the
fourth door to the right.
    Losing
his apprehension, Blackout jogs over the glass and through the door
to the room.
    The
smell hits him first—the horrendous stench of death which he's
smelt a dozen times before.
    As
he turns the corner, all he can see is blood smeared along the bed
sheets. A handprint is on the otherwise bland lamp and across the
wall as though someone has tried to remain upright. The crimson trail
continues