When the siren in our town sounds, no one is allowed to sleep.

Green trees, flowing rivers, and an uncovered landscape with just a few clouds drifting across the sky. I was free to wander through the fields, only accompanied by chirping birds and a large mountain range at the horizon. I had the whole world by my feet to discover. An idyllic, peaceful life, one I knew all too well was just a lie.
I was quickly dragged out from my dream kicking and screaming from the blaring siren filling the air. Though it was a procedure I?d gone through a thousand times before, it still took a few seconds before I remembered where I was.
?Steven, wake up!? I heard my wife call with worry in her voice.
?The kids,? I gasped as I tried to get my brain in gear. ?Are they awake??
We jumped half-dressed out of bed and rushed down the hall. Any second spent was a second too much to make sure our kids hadn?t been awoken by the siren. An immediate wave of relief washed over me as I saw our two boys running towards us. Though they?d awoken in time, they looked absolutely terrified.
?Uncle John won?t wake up,? Levi said.
I shot my wife a worried look. If he hadn?t already awoken by that point, we didn?t have much time left to save his life. We followed Levi and Victor as they ran to John?s room, barging inside. There he lay, oblivious to the excessively loud siren ringing in the background.
Though we all knew what was about to happen, I wasn?t willingly going to let my own children witness the horrors to come.
?Go to the safe room,? I ordered.
?But I wanna help,? Victor begged.
?Now!? I yelled.
He was only trying to be useful, but he knew better than to question my orders. Without further argument, he led his younger brother to the safe room in the basement. It was an impossibly bright, uncomfortable room designed to keep us awake during the events. Whenever the sirens sounded, we?d rush inside just to wait it out.
?Go with them, Joanna. You don?t have to be here for this,? I said.
?I?m staying,? she said decidedly.
At first we just tried to shake him awake, a futile task. As expected he didn?t even acknowledge our presence. He was trapped in a dream that very well might kill him, and we only had a few moments left to pull him out. In a last-ditch attempt I grabbed onto whatever skin I could and twisted until he bruised. Nothing happened.
?The needle,? I demanded as I gestured for an emergency pack lying by the bed.
Joanna handed it to me, and I proceeded to violently jab it into his thigh. Though they?d never told us exactly what it contained, we knew it caused indescribable pain. It was a measure of last resort to drag people back to consciousness. But John didn?t even flinch.
?He?s not waking up?? Joanna said. ?We were too late.?
Speechless and out of options, we just stood and braced ourselves for what would inevitably come. Soon thereafter, his abdomen started to split apart as if slashed by a scalpel through butter. Blood spurted out from the newfound orifice, followed by his intestines spilling onto the bed sheets, shredding themselves as they got exposed to the air. By the time John finally drew his last, most of what remained resembled poorly ground minced meat.
Joanna stood emotionless by my side, too broken to even react. She?d been numbed from the many losses we?d experienced in the past years, and another death was just par for the course. While I had suffered too, the loss of my brother hit me hard. It wasn?t until I felt Joanna?s embrace before I realized I?d been crying.
?Go to the kids,? she said. ?I?ll prepare the room for the sanitation team.?
Before joining the kids in the safe room, I needed a couple of minutes to get my emotions in check. With the siren blaring nonstop, it was easier said than done. The room itself wasn?t much better, with its blinding lights and insanely reflective walls. Just stepping inside was enough to send a surge of adrenaline through my body. No matter how tired we were at that moment, none of us was exhausted enough to fall asleep.
?Is Uncle John coming?? Levi asked.
I just shook my head in response. ?He?s gone.?
To further explain the situation wasn?t necessary, because even at the age of eight and fourteen they were well acquainted with the concept of death. Life in Blue Field was one filled with loss, death, and fear. It didn?t matter who we were, because any one of us could be next. The only mistake John had made was to fall asleep at the wrong time.
But Blue Field hadn?t always been a dreadful prison of death and despair. Once upon a time it was a place of wonder, hidden away in a secret valley surrounded by exceptionally tall mountains. With only a small village in the vicinity, it was an oddity in itself that people had chosen to settle down. With its obscurity came the presence of bizarre animals, plants and creatures that didn?t exist anywhere else in the world. A magical place, fallen into darkness decades earlier. And since death became a constant inhabitant of our home, it was taken off every map and kept a secret for decades.
Had I known how bad it would get, I wouldn?t have brought any children into this world. But now that they were there, I?d give my life for them in a second.
The sanitation crew arrived within an hour, and quickly boarded up the room. The parts of John?s body that remained were put into containment bags and transported to be discarded. Any body left behind after the events could have been a potential vessel, and therefore had to be cremated.
Once the kids were safe and distracted within the safe room, Joanna and I retreated to the front porch for some fresh air. It was a beautiful night all things considered. A pitch black with a starry sky hung above. It was a sight we?d seen many times before, thousands of lights dancing in the infinite void, so full of possibilities. They had been there as we shared our first kiss, and been privy to the moment where we fell in love. But as such they had also been present during the worst moments, and tonight was one of those.
?It?s never gonna get better, is it?? Joanna asked, barely audible over the siren.
I glanced in the direction of the siren. It was coming from an ominous tower in the center of town. Standing four hundred feet tall, it was visible from every home. Its origin and original purpose has remained a mystery for over a hundred years, and those carrying the secret have long since taken it to their graves. All we know is that when the siren sounds, everyone has to stay awake. Those unfortunate enough to sleep through it are torn to shreds.
?It?s been two years since we had a good night?s sleep. I don?t know how much longer I can keep doing this. If it weren?t for the kids?? she trailed off.
?Please, don?t even say it. I can?t lose you too,? I said with tears in my eyes.
?We need to leave town,? she suggested.
But escaping was a foolish task. Our town was situated on the brink of our dimension, drifting in and out between two worlds. Each inhabitant of our town had been bound to this place, making it impossible to leave.
?There just has to be a way out,? she said. ?Maybe if you could just talk to your father.?
?Joanna?? I began before she cut me off.
?Maybe they?ve found something new. Maybe there?s a way out now,? she argued.
?Even if there was, what makes you think he?d tell me?? I asked.
?Won?t you just try?? she went on as she looked at me with pleading eyes.
I nodded. ?Of course I will.?
***
Morning light came around with only a couple of hours of sleep. I dragged myself out from the house and headed over to see my father. At that point it had been a good two years since we last spoke, but as the mayor of our little town he might have had answers the rest of us didn?t. If there was a secret way out, he?d know about it.
Those who took it upon themselves to find exit points never made it far. Their bodies would fall apart as they got close to the border. As their limbs fell off and their skin turned to dust, they?d never stop screaming. Not until every part of their being had been taken apart, were they allowed to die.
It was a quiet day once the siren had fallen silent. Those smarter than myself all stayed at home and got some much needed rest. We usually only got three or four hours between each event, and we had to use them wisely. But after seeing John die before my eyes, I just couldn?t bring myself to close my eyes. Instead I decided to seek out my father.
City Hall was located pretty much directly next to the siren tower, causing most of the community to keep their distance. Even before the events started, the place radiated an eerie aura, as if the entire structure didn?t belong in our world.
Not a soul could be seen roaming the area, and the only other person by the entrance was the middle aged receptionist working during the silence. I knew the man fairly well, but due to his work we hadn?t seen each other in two years. Just my presence at City Hall prompted a confused look from the man.
?Steven?? he asked. ?What are you doing here??
?Hey, Devon. I need to speak to the mayor.?
?You know I?m not supposed to let you in,? he said coldly. ?Not after what happened.?
He looked sick, undoubtedly a result of pure exhaustion. His clothes looked a couple of sizes too big, and his frame seemed emaciated. It was a common sight among the town?s inhabitants, a result of chronic sleep deprivation. But something else was bothering him, I could tell by the worried look in his eyes.
?What happened?? I asked.
He wore a look of despair, and the weak facade he wore cracked as soon as I asked the question. He wasn?t allowed to tell me what was going on behind closed doors, but the rules hardly mattered to men on the brink of death.
?We lost our supply line,? he said after a moment of hesitation.
My heart sank as he uttered those words. The supply line had been our only source of outside contact for the past decade, serving as a bridge between our town, and a satellite village. While we had no direct contact to the people there, they?d leave food and materials just outside the border, in the one location we could pick it up without risking our own lives. The only means of communication was through an ancient telegraph station. Attempts have been made to ask for help beyond supplies, but someone outside our town has been suppressing them.
?What happened??
?It?s?? he began. ?It?s happening to them too. They?d been mentioning strange deaths during the past couple of months. Last week they just stopped responding.? He then looked up at me with pleading eyes. ?Please, Steven. You can?t tell anyone about this. God knows what would happen if people found out.?
Carrying the secret would be a burden, but I knew he was right. Without discussing the matter any further, I just asked to see my father.
?I?m gonna let you through,? he said. ?But I haven?t seen him in three days. He locked himself inside and threatened to shoot anyone that knocked on the door. Be careful, Steven, he?s not himself.?
?I didn?t like him even when he was himself,? I mumbled as I walked deeper into the dilapidated building.
The vacant building produced a tragic atmosphere. A place once full of life had been reduced to empty hallways filled with forgotten memories. The paint on the walls was peeling, and the floor was covered in a thick layer of dust. With most of the government workers dead or in hiding, there was little left to do.
Once I finally reached the Mayor?s office, I was struck by how silent everything was. I knocked on the door and awaited a response? nothing. I had expected yelling or even gunshots, but instead I was met with deafening silence.
?Dad,? I called out as I knocked on the door. ?It?s me. We need to talk.?
Again, no response.
?Alright, I?m coming in.?
It came as no surprise that the door was locked, but these ancient things were easy enough to pick. I just stuck my own key inside, wriggled it around until it connected, then I turned the handle.
Upon entry I was assaulted by the stench of rot and metal filling the room. And there he sat behind his desk, my father with a hole in the head and his brain splattered across the wall. He even clenched onto the gun he?d used; an old gift he?d inherited from his own father. It was a wartime weapon that had seen one too many victims.
I just stood frozen before his rotting body, not able to conjure up any real emotions. I only felt ashamed that my first thoughts leaned towards the waste of a precious bullet rather than the loss of human life, family even. But as much as I hated my father, he was a strong, stubborn son of a bitch. Suicide wasn?t his style.
Only then did I notice the writing on the walls around the room. They were a bunch of hastily written phrases, barely legible.
?I have seen what lies beyond. I know what kills them,? followed by ?I won?t let them get me,? written over and over again.
On the desk lay a notebook with the same, repeated phrases. It was the old journal he?d kept for the past decade, ending with the same frantic messages.
?What happened to you?? I mumbled to myself, too exhausted and numb to fully appreciate what I?d just witnessed.
But the saddest aspect of his death was the fact that no one had cared enough to check up on him. He?d shot himself in the head days ago, and no one ever noticed. Presumably he?d committed the act during one of the events, leaving the siren to cover up the gunshot.
After staring at his body for a few minutes, I took the notebook with me, hoping to make sense of his final thoughts before he departed our world. I left him there, sitting in the chair, then I returned to the front desk.
?He?s dead,? I said coldly.
?What??
?Shot himself in the head. I don?t know what to say. You better call Sanitation.?
I left the poor man in shock, but I couldn?t bear to stay any longer. The bad memories I had of the man had just been cemented into history without any closure, and it broke me. But I couldn?t return home and face my family without answers. I needed time to myself while I figured things out. I sat down on a bench and started flipping through the last pages of his journal. It was all a jargoned mess, one I knew my exhausted mind could never decipher. So, left without any other options, I visited the only friend I had in town, an eccentric man by the name of Thomas Regret.
Thomas lived on the edge of town and was one of the few actively looking for a way out. Throughout the years he?d grown increasingly strange, be it from the lack of sleep or isolation, no one could tell. Though his experiments tended to be short lived failures, he kept going. If anyone could make sense of my late father?s rambles, it would be him.
His home was a strange sight to behold, always presenting new surprises. On that particular day his roof was covered in pigeons. It was a strange sight not only because he?d decided to collect birds, but because I hadn?t seen a pigeon in five years. As I walked into his backyard, I saw rows of cages filled with the poor things.
And there sat Thomas with a bird in his hand. He was focused on its legs, tying what appeared to be a note to its leg.
?Carrier pigeons, really?? I asked.
?Hello Steven,? he said, barely acknowledging my presence.
?Why the birds?? I asked again
?They seem to have flown into town. I figure they can fly back out,? was all he responded. ?If I can get a message out, smarter folks than me can figure out how to help us. Now what can I do you for??
?My father?s dead.?
The last sentence seemed to get his attention, if only for a brief moment. ?I?m sorry, but necromancy ain?t my specialty.?
I let out an involuntary chuckle. ?He left behind some notes. Mostly scribbles and incoherent rambles, but I figured you might get something out of it.?
?Alright, leave it here. Come back tomorrow?? his words were cut short as the siren started blaring through town.
The overture always sent waves of panic through my body, no matter how often it happened. Thomas, on the other hand, barely seemed fazed by it.
?You better get home to your family,? he said, not taking his eye off his project.
?So tomorrow then?? I ask for confirmation.
?Tomorrow.?
On the way home, I kept thinking about the man my father had been. While he certainly hadn?t been the obvious choice for mayor, there had been few other opponents in the rapidly dwindling population. Of the few running for office, only he wished to help others. The rest were just out for power. In all honesty, he?d never wanted the position, he ran purely out of spite due to the corruption. If only he had known what the stress would turn him into.
As I reached my neighborhood, I was frozen in shock from the horrific sight of a sanitation crew parked outside my house. They couldn?t still be there for John, a suspicion that was confirmed when I saw one of them comforting my two sons.
?What?s going on?? I asked as I ran towards them. ?Where?s my wife??
I wanted nothing more than to run inside and see her. Just to feel her embrace and tell me everything was fine. But I knew those were the hopeless dreams of a broken heart. The sanitation crew blocked the door, one of them even grabbed me as I tried to get inside.
?This isn?t something you need to see,? he said.
Moments later, a sealed stretcher was carried outside. Though I couldn?t see through it, I knew that it carried what was left of my wife.
?She didn?t wake up,? Victor cried. ?I couldn?t wake her up.?
I embraced the two of them and started to cry. There we sat as the sanitation crew cleaned up, none of us able to process what had just happened. All the while our sobs were accompanied by the ungodly alarm blaring in the background, making sure those still alive couldn?t fall asleep.
Once Sanitation had left, we made our way to the safe room. There we sat in silence as we mourned our loss. A day passed and the alarm kept blaring. I felt my eyes grow heavy, but did our best to keep each other awake. But by the end of the second day, we knew something had gone horribly wrong.
?Why hasn?t it stopped yet?? Levi asked, his eyes red from lack of sleep and crying.
It was a question I wasn?t smart enough to answer. Whatever the case, the alarm showed no intention of stopping. If we wanted to survive the oncoming days, we needed to seek help. In times of emergency, there was a meeting point at the outskirts of town. It was as far away from the siren as one could get without crossing the border. On the rare occasion that two days passed without rest, they handed out injections designed to keep the population awake. It was a risky strategy, killing more than a few, but it was still the safer option.
Already as we stepped outside, we were met with a horrific sight. Our neighbor had fallen asleep on his lawn, passed out from pure exhaustion. His chest had been split open, and his lungs had been ripped out, the various lobes separated and tossed across the ground.
?Don?t look at him,? I said as I tried to shield my sons from the sight.
From there the streets were mostly barren. We met up with a few other survivors, each of them too tired to talk to us. We were all on the brink of collapse, but we kept on fighting, just hoping to find rescue at the emergency point.
We?re going to Thomas Regret on the way there, not to look for a way out, but to get a message across the border using one of his carrier pigeons. It has been almost three days since we last slept. I?m not sure how many are still alive, or if we?ll even make it past tomorrow. So I?m hoping someone finds this note and spreads its message.
We are dying, please help us.


Source.