A mysterious voice infiltrates the harsh echo of white noise, counting down to an unknown fate. 

Many days had lulled by since the mysterious destruction of the frequencies. All connections to the outside world have ceased. One by one, all utility poles malfunctioned and perished. As a consequence, electronic devices fizzled out, and the only remaining signs of life were the drone of the white noise. The pulsating vision of the grayscale vibrations, hissing.

It began with the loss of the radio stations, and the repetition of a word. It was Latin I think; a disembodied voice lethargically echoed it like an old vinyl record. Nihil…nihil…nihil. I had to look it up in one of the few resources I had. According to countless translations, it meant nothing. Not long after that, just about everything of modern civilization went copout. The voice stopped upon this new development, like it was some sort of…prophecy of future events, a countdown.

Come to think of it, it was spoken in the same way…Nihil (10)…Nihil (9)…Nihil (8)…

A countdown to what? The outcome was inadequate to say the least. No explosions, no implosions, just…silence.

Pottering around my home, on the brink of craziness from the lack of activity outside – which had terminated the second everything went down.  – I pondered on how humanity so relied on the artificial contraptions that they shut themselves away in their houses. Lost little souls. It made me chuckle just how quickly we became so interdependent.

It was eerie with the absence of cars, exasperatingly honking horns in road rage; the footsteps and laughter of children and care free adolescents…dogs excitingly travelling to their favourite locations. It’d been erased. The only sound was the hissing of the lost signal, and eventually, the devices had to be shut off, as the scratching whirr resounded in my mind. It reminded of the voice, it had stretched out the word in a bored drone, and now, it reappeared as a whisper.

The voice spoke when I slept, disturbing my dreams, it penetrated my thoughts during the day. I couldn’t escape it. It was like a demanding young child tugging at a trouser leg. It was a shame that everything had lost all function, as there was no forewarning, no explanation, and no attempts of contact. No rushing out of homes to question the goings on, no screams, and no cries. It was as if humanity accepted their fate, a flock of sheep obeying their shepherd.

If I had only looked out of my window or exited my home, I was so concerned with busying myself that I forgot to peer out. If I had only given the outside world one glance.  There was nothing outside, just darkness. The only remains of the world were clothing, scattered across the pavements, the roads, empty houses, apartments. Everyone had been stripped from their attire. The voice had been a direct message to me; an omen, a personal letter. No one was left; the world was empty, except for me. The nothingness was my prison, my punishment…for abandoning my purpose.