Today was the beginning.
The first man jumped at 8:17 a.m.
He was a construction worker eating breakfast on the thirty-second floor of a high-rise. Security footage showed him freeze mid-bite, tilt his head as though someone had whispered his name, smile softly, and walk to the edge. He stepped off without hesitation.
No scream.
No panic.
Just... peace.
The news called it a tragedy.
Neighbors and friends were confused.
The randomness of it all seemed to pull horror and curiosity in the same direction.
By noon, seven more men had done the same.
By sunset, the number reached one hundred and twelve.
No one understood why.
People searched for explanations.
Mass hysteria.
A new drug.
Brain tumors.
A terrorist attack.
Nothing fit.
The men came from different countries, spoke different languages, belonged to different religions. Rich, poor, young, old, it didn't matter.
The only thing they all reported before they died was hearing...
A song.
Not through headphones.
Not on the radio.
Inside their heads.
Emma first noticed it while sitting across from her husband.
"What are you listening to?" she asked.
Daniel looked up from his coffee.
"You don't hear that?"
"Hear what?"
He frowned.
"A woman."
Emma listened.
Silence.
Daniel smiled, almost dreamily.
"She's... beautiful."
Before Emma could respond, he stood.
He walked to the apartment balcony.
"Daniel?"
He unlocked the glass door.
Her heart lurched.
"Daniel!"
He climbed over the railing.
She grabbed his arm with both hands.
"What are you doing?!"
He looked back at her with tears in his eyes.
"I have to answer."
Then he let go.
Within three days, every news station stopped broadcasting interviews with survivors.
Because there weren't any.
Once a man heard the song...
He always found a height.
Governments ordered every male citizen indoors.
Windows were boarded shut.
Roofs locked.
Bridges closed.
It didn't matter.
Men climbed water towers.
Trees.
Telephone poles.
Even mountains.
Anything high enough.
Emma began noticing something strange.
Whenever another death was reported...
She caught herself humming.
Just for a second.
A melody she'd never learned.
One note.
Then another.
Every woman she spoke to admitted the same thing.
None of them could hear the mysterious song.
But afterward...
They remembered pieces of it.
As though it had always existed.
One night, Emma dreamed.
She stood in a field beneath a black sky.
Thousands of women surrounded her.
Young.
Old.
Ancient.
Modern.
Every face streaked with tears.
In the distance stood a woman impossibly tall, her dress woven from shadows and raven feathers.
She never moved her lips.
Yet the music filled the world.
"Who are you?" Emma whispered.
The woman finally opened her eyes.
"I am every voice buried before it was heard."
Emma awoke screaming.
The television was already on.
The anchor, visibly shaken, removed his earpiece.
He smiled.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the camera.
"I can hear her now."
He stood.
Walked off the studio set.
Moments later, the sound of breaking glass echoed through the broadcast before the screen went black.
By the end of the month...
There were no men left alive.
Not one.
The song stopped.
The silence that followed felt heavier than grief.
Women slowly rebuilt the world.
Years passed.
Children were born.
Life continued.
No one spoke about the song anymore.
Until one spring afternoon, Emma's granddaughter came running into the kitchen.
"Grandma?"
Emma smiled.
"Yes?"
The little girl tilted her head.
"I think someone's singing."
Emma's smile disappeared.
"What does it sound like?"
The child listened for a moment before answering.
"It isn't calling anyone."
She looked out the window toward the distant mountains.
"It's... waiting."
About the Creator
Kaori Knight
I started writing when i was in the 3rd grade. That's when i discovered I had an overactive imagination. I'm currently trying to publish 2 books, hopefully I can improve my writing here before I hit the big leagues in writing.
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