The night the Rhymer went whack

27

Straffe wasn’t the only proprietor of a safe haven. There were others such as The Noisery in Holland, Quiet in Hungary, Soundful in Northern Canada near Alaska, and at least a dozen more.

All connected using each other for advice and tips on how to further secure and advance their habitats. And it was Jaspar the proprietor in Holland who had suggested the tunnels, an escape route just in case something like this took place.

His idea may have been precipitated by a resident that had gone crazy. For whatever reason, he, one morning, woke up and began yelling, screaming and spouting that the end of the world was coming. He got hold of a knife and slashed those that tried to subdue him. Totally against protocol but to protect others, Jaspar shot the crazed man, ending the uprising. But unfortunately, a few years later, Jaspar still hadn’t followed through on his own suggestion and his compound and the rest were infiltrated by other Reshods and destroyed by a well-orchestrated plot equal to what shaped their need for existence in the first place.

In that moment when the last haven crumbled, the world had no place for purity and happiness. No place for arts and science, free thinking, music or escapism. The “Straffes” that were in the tunnels fleeing their creations knew of no future, only the pasts that they had created in hopes that they could eventually be the majority someday. Hoping that their trickle of existence would soon flood the world, re-growing its glory and maybe even reach heights free of the violence that destroyed the world in the first place. With thoughts of each other and wishing safety and not knowing that this was a worldwide attack, their minds stayed positive, thinking that the other compounds still existed.