Chapter One : To The Grey, He Wandered	Archive
The future was yesterday. It was short, nasty and violent. This is now. This is the aftermath. Pay back, if you would, for the years of mass destruction mankind wrought on his environment. Peter Morris is a weak little man, with nothing going for him but a bloody-minded desire not to go under - all his life he’s embraced the horrors of the world - rejoicing in his ability to laugh in the face of his insane maker. Peter was half way through a bottle of scotch when the world ended. He watched in drunken amusement as a gibbering anchor woman broke the news that the inevitable had occurred and that Mother Nature was now doing her best to rid the world of those who had harmed her so much. As mankind panicked, Peter opened a fresh pack of Silk Cut and laughed long and hard - outside he could hear the sound of concrete being torn apart as what looked like a number of trees sprouted from nothing to full bloom past his window. When a huge oak tree crashed through the floor of Peter’s flat, he stopped laughing and pulled on his jacket. Scotch in hand, Peter Morris decided to take a walk. It took less then twenty minutes to heal the world - amputation was required and the doctor opted for a blunt double bladed axe and enough napalm to fill a million Olympic sized swimming pools. Alison O’Neill was an expert on swimming pools - since the age of seven she’d spent nearly half of her life in one - Alison’s father wanted her to be an Olympic champion and he was willing to sacrifice her life to follow his own demented dreams. He’d been standing at the side of the pool, screaming at her to pick up the pace when several meters of tree burst from the ground and straight through his body, leaving a bloodied mess impaled on the top of a fresh new Yew tree. Alison should’ve fallen into a state of shock but her sense of self preservation suggested that she’d be better off getting the hell out of the pool and away to somewhere with less forestry. As she reached the side of the pool, a number of trees crashed from the middle of it. Stopping only to grab a bag she’d left beside the changing room doors, Alison ran from the pool and onto the streets of her fair city. Peter never liked the city - it was a horrible place that cared only for itself - intent on spreading its' concrete claws to any greenery within reach. It had consumed the planet and mankind had helped it achieve its' evil end - laying its' foundations and slowly killing the very planet on which they lived. Peter considered himself to have a good grasp on human nature - he was yet to meet a person that he couldn’t figure out but one thing about most people bothered him - he could never understand why they were so willing to lay waste to their planet. He knew he wasn’t a particularly smart man so if he could see the inevitable consequences of mankind’s actions, surely everyone else could as well. He hated himself for being so naïve - most people were too busy watching television to think about little things like the future of their planet. Surveying the scene before him, Peter grinned broadly - well whatever was left of humanity would have to think now – Mother Nature had revolted and torn her concrete cancer out, replacing it with bloody great big trees. Peter Morris let the last of his sanity fade away as he finished his scotch. Alison decided that shock simply wasn’t worth the bother. The streets were gone, replaced by lush green forests - a heavy rain had started to fall - putting out several fires which had begun and washing blood from the barks of the trees which had sprung from nowhere. Alison rummaged through her bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweat shirt, dressing quickly as the rain increased in its intensity. She could handle the trees, just, but the silence was slowly gnawing away at what little was left of her resolve. Alison had lived in the city all of her life and the city is not a quiet animal - the sound of cars tearing across concrete roads is ever present, along with the ringing of alarm bells and the wail of sirens rushing to answer them. Now though, now it was different - all she could hear was the sound of rain on leaf. Alison made her way through the forest, she didn’t know where she was going, she just knew that she had to keep moving - she did her best to ignore the bodies she passed. As the rain died away, the silence became unbearable. Alison’s resistance started to crumble, the silence gnawing at her, the sight of two dead children burning itself into her memory as she sunk to her knees - terror and shock overtaking her. It was then that she heard the singing. Peter had been waiting for this to happen. After the nuclear warhead detonated in the center of Pakistan, it was clear the mankind had opted to barrel headfirst towards extinction, worse they seemed determined to drag this wonderful planet down with them. When the insane militia groups exploded out of America’s heartland, leaving little more then scorched earth in their wake, peter begged for an ending - for another great flood to wash the suffering away but it did not appear. Europe collapsed in on itself - distrust preventing the formation of yet another world power - with the whole disgusting mess ending in numerous border wars and bloody conflicts. Cool Britannia looked smugly on and received a rather nasty surprise when the beaten masses decided to tear down the society which sought to crush the life from them. A united Ireland led to horrific terrorist scenes, with Britain too busy fighting its own to lend help overseas. Peter had known that all of this was going to happen, in his youth he tried to fight the system but he learned quickly that he couldn’t win - so he gave up and now the world had paid the price. Picking his way through lush forest, Peter started to sing to himself - "…..As we disappear into the distance; The sinking ship leaving the rats; For making me bitter and twisted; I blame the government for that…..". Alison didn’t recognise the song, her father had ensured that she had little time for anything outside of swimming but she did know that it was being sung badly. Still in shock, and starting to shiver as her damp clothes clung to her skin, Alison headed in the direction of the crooning voice. Unlike Peter, Alison liked the city - she led a lonely life, again thanks to her father but her daily trips to the city’s pool always allowed her to enjoy the experience of being in the company of others. To her the city was an exciting, vibrant place - teeming with activity and packed with every sort of person imaginable. Her thoughts started to drift to her mother, was she still alive ?. Alison was dragged back to the here and now by a bright flash of lightning - looking up she saw what looked like a large airplane plummeting towards the far end of the city, one of it’s wings had been torn off, presumably by the lightning. Alison found Peter lounging against a small pine tree and she wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was quite tall, probably a little over six feet with shoulder length black hair which hung freely - he was dressed in an ill fitting black suit and shirt, a burning cigarette held between two fingers as he sang another tune - "…..Conspiracy Theory Number Three; The government control who you are; And if your music’s good for the economy; You can be a rock ‘n’ roll star….". Peter let the song trail off and took a long drag from his cigarette before flashing a surprisingly charismatic smile at Alison "You’re Alison O’Neill, savior of the world and I’m Peter Morris - fucked up wannabe bastard and your knight in shining armour - you ready to play hero then ?".
Written By : John McMahon	Archive