The Countdown

For decades the Doomsday Clock stood as a beacon to humanity; a symbol of our proximity to The End. Years ticked by as the minutes danced forward and back. The Arms Race, Climate Change, and a Pandemic ticking out a rhythm. Mortal hands believed themselves insightful as they tugged the hands to and fro; but they did not know, could not see, that they were dancing her waltz; as she tugged us all closer to the end.

No one knew to question when the Institute decided to build a physical version of the clock in their Chicago headquarters. As we began the project strange things happened around us. Workers went missing, notes and modifications were mysteriously delivered to the foreman by an unmarked delivery van, and strange visions plagued our nightmares. That was when I first felt her embrace. Apocalypsa, a cataclysmic vision of beauty, would visit me every night. In these dreams we waltzed together as skyscrapers collapsed around us, streets filled with the charred remains of people, and oceans rose to wipe it all away.

That’s how life was for weeks. My days were spent on the clock, her grand design; the nights were spent in her arms. Deep inside I knew what this clock stood for, but I was unable to do anything but continue to work. As days turned into weeks it all began to take shape. It was beautiful, but the workers knew; we all felt the same sinking dread. Some even tried to talk about what happened, but they were dismissed as crazy, fired from their position, or worse… They just disappeared.

The final weeks of the project were tense. It was impossible to say who would arrive on site to work because workers were disappearing in droves. As the clock neared completion, the Institute announced a grand unveiling. Eyes all around the world would be watching as her grand design was finally revealed. Many commented that midnight was a strange time to unveil the project, but no one questioned it.

My hands were the only ones working that day as the final bolts were fastened and a final inspection was conducted. There was shock and amazement on each face as the group took in the monolith before them. The event was pushed from next week to that night, and there was a giddy energy amongst them as they planned for how to best display the monstrosity. I went home and slept for the rest of the day. This was a dreamless sleep; an empty blackness greeting me instead of her welcomed embrace.

That night hit me like a brick wall; the television was blaring, the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists standing with the Doomsday clock looming behind them. A mix of amazement and horror on their face. The seconds were ticking by above them, each booming out through the speakers. They still didn’t understand… But I did. A haunting tune escaped my lips as the hands approached Midnight and I finally saw he-