The city had died without warning.
One moment, traffic lights blinked crimson and gold across Ashford Square and in the next …nothing.
No buzz of neon signs, no hum of the electric grid, not even the distant rattle of subways. Just silence. Heavy, cavernous silence that seemed to press into the lungs like ash.
Jonah Cross stood on the rooftop of the aging Briarstone Complex, hands gripping rusted railings as he stared at the blacked-out skyline. Even the stars refused to show. It was as if something had swallowed the light.
He wasn’t alone.
“I told you,” murmured the voice behind him. Soft. Gravel-laced. Female.
Ethan Campbell, natural born stand-up comedian who never made it any further from his toilet’s mirror, so he turned into writing fantasy and paranormal stories.
Ovi eBook Publishing 2025
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