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A MIDIAN CITY NOTECARD
"The Story of Apocalypse"
August 2009
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THE STORY OF APOCALYPSE
Hope. Some say it springs eternal. But such has never been the
case with Midian City, save for one brief chapter in the
wretched pages of its blood stained history. It was during this
time, and this time only that Midian City began to prosper and
grow, a turn of the page from its nearly forgotten past as an
outcast colony of dejected lepers. But such things never happen
overnight. When the leper colony of old dwindled in numbers and
the last of the colonists died, the priests who tirelessly cared
for them eventually deserted the church they had built and
anxiously returned back to the mainland, taking with them lurid
tales of bloody horrors they witnessed night after night and
denouncing the island as an abomination.
And so for centuries the island expanse stood alone, nearly
untouched, a deserted Galapagos seemingly forgotten by
humankind. Some say it would have been better that way.
However, just as the passing of time urges superstition and myth
to fade away to science and reason, likewise even the darkest of
memories slowly become clouded with the passing of the ages.
It wasn’t until the age of never ending expansion and unbridled
consumerism that the mainland once again began to take note of
the sleepy island, much like their forefathers of long ago. The
area, now lush in its overgrown vegetation, fresh underground
streams and river way access, seemed ripe for opportunity. And
so a new modern day colony was established.
Yet enough was not enough.
They sought to exploit it, to violate the land for its
opportunities and vast resources; they deemed profiting from it
as though it were their fundamental right.
No one cared. No one was concerned. In fact the only protests
ever heard came from a grizzled old priest clutching a dusty
yellow paged journal found in the old archives of the Midian
City Parish. His protests and apocalyptic warnings about the
island were written off as the superstitions of a half crazed
old man.
It wasn’t long before a great bridge was constructed connecting
the sleepy island to the mainland and a city built around the
old historic church. Businesses, families and tourists soon
flocked to Midian City. It was a time when the milk and honey of
hope and prosperity flowed much like the once lush waters of its
canals. It appeared as though the city was destined for
greatness, perhaps even to become the next great beacon of light
in a world which was growing increasing darker.
And then came … The War.
At first it was a minor conflict, another nightly event for the
common people to watch unfold on television while resting in the
comforts of the armchair. But as tensions boiled out of control
in this new styled war, this high tech world war, it would soon
become clear that the mere click of the remote control would no
longer suffice in shutting off the visions of death and
destruction from the home front.
It was a warm Sunday afternoon in Midian City, much like any
other mid-spring Sunday. A soothing breeze filled the air,
carrying with it the sounds of laughter, the back and forth
singsong of the swings in the park playground, the seagulls as
they joyously cried out in flight. Little did anyone know what
was occurring in a windowless industrial building in the
southern district of the city. To this day the answers are still
unclear as the atrocity was met with the savviest of political
spin. It was the “Final Solution Tests” they said. The “War to
End All Wars”, they called it. Indeed much was ended that day,
much was lost. The incalculable damage and loss would carry well
into future, effecting generations to come.
What exactly went on in that building is unclear. Some say that
the massive chain of explosions following the initial detonation
was the government’s subsequent pulverization of the area with
missiles in an attempt to completely destroy and cover up every
shred of evidence as to what went on in that area. The official
answers were never made clear, and in the end were nearly as
convoluted as the dust and rubble that settled upon what would
come to be known as the Apocalypse District of Midian City.
To this day, most of the Apocalypse District is thought to be
abandoned and under careful guard by the UAC. No one knows
exactly what lies deep within the most southern parts of its
dark ruins. Even the UAC and MPD aren’t frequently known to
venture very far into its depths. It is rumored to be one of the
darkest most vicious areas in the city, a place filled with
lunatics, freaks and savage beasts, a place where the screeching
echoes of screams made long ago still fill the night’s air, a
place where the southernmost waters are rumored to still run red
with the blood of those who perished that fateful day. Many have
ventured that way but few are said to have returned.
Nowadays, it seems that the only thing that springs eternal in
Midian City is the darkness which shrouds it and toxic sewage
that spills from bowels. And though the questions remain, very
few will likely ever be answered. And yet, somewhere in Midian
City, somebody knows the truth. But those who do aren't telling,
and those who don't would do well to leave it alone.
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Midian City is a RP Sim in Second Life. Please visit "Midian
City" for more info.
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