Charleston stared. The rash of mass suicides leading up to the twenty-first hadn’t prepared him for this. The world was descending into chaos and anarchy because some fool thought the world was going to end. Apparently that gave you license to do whatever you wanted. Shit like this didn’t happen in the real world. Except this was the real world now.

Blood had congealed into sticky gel into the carpet, looking for all the world, like a giant fruit roll-up. Most of the figures were wearing little more than chains and lingerie; men and women both. Judging from their emaciation, they’d been held against their will. How long was anyone’s guess. Charleston just took the calls as they came in. He wasn’t qualified to do more than to zone it off and burn it to the ground.

The worst part was there was literally no way to stop this. Not anymore. Someone should do something. If the world was going to end, it should goddamn do it already.

Light, overwhelming light, so bright it hurt to look at, began to fill the sky.