End Wave. Pg. 22. Threshold.

The news of crimson soaked felines raised the hush.
And raised the hum.
Backler, Benitez, Duggan.
The shadows, The Lion, the hum.
It was all happening so fast.
hhhhhhhhhhhhhuuuuuuuuummmmmmmm...

End Wave. Pg. 21. The Lion.

Originally printed in the newspaper known as The New York Intelligencer.

Mysterious Abduction Outside Brooklyn Brownstone

Dave Wilson
November 17, 2017
Downtown Brooklyn - NYPD and the Major Case Squad are investigating a bloody crime scene in connection with the mysterious abduction of 31 year old, Robert Backler.

At 12:15 AM EST, Saturday, November 15, police responded to a call from a DSNY employee on Union Street between Hoyt and Bond Street, located just over a block (Southeast) from the Gowanus Canal.

The Sanitation worker said he witnessed a "darkness" attack Backler as the service truck was making it's designated stops. As the worker rushed to the scene he was about twenty yards away when he saw the "lion shaped darkness" drag Backler quickly up the front wall of a three story brownstone.

Police found no signs of Backler on the roof, only a large amount of blood, as well as a pair of eye glasses. Backler was last to leave a dinner party he was attending at the building he was dragged to the top of. Police also found two cats in a nearby school lot, both covered in what appeared to be blood. Police said both cats were uninjured.

Backler is 6' 1", 178 lbs, caucasian, has brown eyes, and a shaved head. Backler has no distinguishing birthmarks or tattoos.

NYPD are continuing to investigate Backler's abduction, while the Major Case Squad investigates similar strange reports throughout the metropolitan area.

End Wave. Pg. 20. Reticles.

Closer the hum would stalk.

End Wave. Pg. 19. Taste.

the cellulose acetate sounds carried...
the nights were colder.
empty avenues. empty streets. empty drives. empty lanes. empty courts.
they formed flocks to feel that cotton comfort.

their hum was louder. more careless. more anxious.

End Wave. Pg. 18. Zero.

All the same kind.
Sleeping in the valley.
Afraid they'd see.

End Wave. Pg. 17. Irontail.

all of them... masked and confused

End Wave. pg. 16. Damien.

In the dimming night lights you could hear the cracking. The cackling. Night was darker. 7:35pm EST on November 11, 2017.

End Wave. pg. 15. The Bends.

... the air was changing...

End Wave. pg. 14. Tombs.

Only if they realized the last stop was near...

End Wave. pg 13. Sugar Cane.

Powdered in neglect, many refused to acknowledge the building news of the vanishing. Drowned their heads in hops and grains. Buried themselves into alternate realities of maniacal egos. Inhaled any fume of detachment. Codependent on each others neglect. Only if they'd blinked... just for a slight blink...

End Wave. pg. 12. Orbestra

silk air...

End Wave. pg. 11. Dust.

Lucid particles of micrometers rose and settled across the island of Manhattan. They settled with the rise of the sun. They gusted as the moon glazed. Globally radiating in suburbia, in the cubicle farms, glowing in human cells, falling and floating follicles, weaves of cottons, silks, polyesters, wools, multi-flavored minerals, and countless breaths of terrain. Suffocating the air. And they breathed deeply. Into bends they inhaled.