John Baker, although a man of a not very unique name, was a very unique person.
This uniqeness was shown one dreary afternoon in a bar where he was resting with his friends after a long day.
Slightly drunk, one of them, a tall, burly redhead called Frank, said:
"Is anyone here daring to take on a bet?"
They nodded, and the man continued, this time quietly, as if telling a secret:
"If one of you manages to go the City Of Drear, stay in there for a night and come back, I'll give them 1 grand."
He didn't think anyone would take on the challenge. But he was wrong. As everyone else shook their heads vigourously...
John Baker stepped forward.
On the outside, he seemed quite normal, wearing a grey coat and black shoes and trousers, and witth short-cut hair, but on the inside he was a literal, strong and persevering person.
"I'll go." He said. "I've wanted to visit it for a long time."
He knew little of this legendary city. Stories told that it was infested by malign spirits and that the people that onced lived there had been immortalized into black shadows, who walked the streets aimlessly, hunched down as if constantly observing the floor.
No one knew what had happened to turn the people into these ghouls. But John wanted to know.
While his friends stared at him, stupefied, he nodded briskly and walked out of the bar, with a final cry of "I'll go prepare myself!"
The next morning, he was ready. He had spare clothes, a tent and a flashlight, as well as some other things. He opened the door and walked down the path that lead to Drear.
Even before he reached the city, John could already feel the air of stuffiness and... well, dreariness around. It smelled of death and despair, as if an entire settlement had died... Perhaps they had?
As he was walking, consumed by these thoughts, he reached a crossroads with an interesting sign on it. There were three arrows. There was one that pointed to where John came from that said "The Past". The other two said "The Future" and seemed to lead to the same path in the end.
John looked, confused at the signs and carried on, with a growing feeling of dread settling in his mind.
After much walking his theory was confirmed, as he saw the other road labeled "Future" leading to the road he had taken and connecting with it. And that was when he found Drear.
There was a wall and a gate right in his path. Over the gate, he could see a large black and gray tower in the middle of the city, and the city itself.
Tall, elegant houses made of dirty glass reached up and seemed to scrape the sky, where an impenetrable haze of black storm clouds roamed. Every so often, lightning struck, hitting the tower in the middle with a violent "crack!" and spit of light.
John quavered a bit more, but steeled himself and entered the gates, which were wide open.
There, he could see the village better, and more importantly, the people. The stories were right. They were all hunched over something, looking down at the ground with a black shroud on them. Their faces were illuminated with some hidden light, the only light in the city as there were no streetlamps anywhere, but John couldn't see the light sources because of the ghosts' hunched stance.
Every so often, one of them would bump into another, and they would trade astonished glances and carry on hunching over that hidden object again.
They looked human, but their faces seemed still, like that of a corpse, pale, with dead, sunken eyes and dry lips.
John shuddered and tried to blend in, slowly walking down the dead, black alleys cornered by dead, black houses, surrounded by these hunched ghouls.
He reached the middle of the city, and saw the huge, looming tower. It was much taller than it had seemed outside the walls. He resolved to put his tent in a large unnocupied space under the tower and placed the sleeping bag inside. Judging by how bored and indifferent those ghastly things looked, John figured they wouldn't notice. And if they did, they wouldn't care.
He opened his backpack, turned on his flashlight, lay down in his sleeping bag and opened a book he had been reading that week.
And that was when things starting going awry.
Suddenly, John got up, realizing that the ground beneath him was shaking, and a strange screeching noise had started.
He got out in a hurry and looked up, incredulously.
The skeleton-like tower was teetering on its base and seemed to be about to fall.
Terrified, he unstuck his tent from the ground and dragged it away, watching as the ghostly gray structure shook from side to side.
And then the tower started to fall, unconnecting itself from the ground.
As one, the corpse-like people looked up at the tower and John could see an emotion on their so far emotionless faces.
Fear.
The tower continued falling, groaning like a dying monstrosity and finally fell down onto the gate.
One of the ghouls said:
"The cell tower's down!"
Suddenly, again as one, the corpses unhunched their shoulders, straightened themselves and John finally saw the earlier light source: Small rectangles that they had been looking into. Now they didn't produce light anymore. Perhaps the light had been controlling them?
Whatever the cause, they seemed all right now. Their faces seemed less pale, and altogether they looked less like corpses.
One of them came over to him and said:
"Can you believe it!? The cell tower's down! We don't have the materials to fix it either!"
Slightly shocked, John answered:
"Maybe you never needed it."
The man looked at him, smiled weakly and joined the others.
The black clouds above parted, and sun shone down on Drear once more.
The skeletal tower was gone, and the locals ran to him, beckoning him to follow them. They seemed quite friendly, actually. And they looked just like the people back at John's home too. Normal. One of them showed the way to his house and let him stay there for the night.
"If it was you who knocked down the tower, if that's possible." She said, looking at him. "Thank you. It's now I realize we didn't need all that..."
John didn't fully understand, but smiled all the same and fell asleep on the bed.
* * *
The next day, he was back on the road, and as he looked back one last time at Drear, he saw the clouds had parted, the fallen tower had mysteriously dissapeared and the city seemed a much better place.
He also noticed that all the signs at the crossroads now said "The Present"
He didn't give this much thought, and headed back home.
At the bar, his friends immediately ran to greet him, asking him about his stay.
John only said:
"The locals are quite nice actually. Not half as dreary as I thought."
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