Siren of the Order
_Originally published as part of The Missing Soul
Under the Pseudonym Steven Bishop
The fire dripped slowly from the great below, splashing up and causing ripples in the captious steel streets. Housing projects bowed to the fist of a hard screaming siren. Those within the projects cowered in corners ¾ corners in which they spent their lives but to receive granted meals. “Why the siren this time?” they wondered. “Has someone ventured outside?”
Indeed one had, and walked about in a vapor of black colors. Clouds formed along the roads to soothe the ripples, and within this fog there commenced the flashing of a distant light. This terror grew quickly and became blinding as the wailing alarm now bled the ears. The one walked on, unaware of his dripping lobes.
Those in the projects heard the blaring noise cease, and for ten seconds the world halted before the sound began once more. And it cried for many minutes, all the time fading, becoming invisible as the cold sun and the weeping stars set. And the one who had walked was unaware of the inky blood in which he lay.