The Damned & the Forgotten

Note: A.E. (After-Event) refers to the new dating system in-universe. In the year 2012, a massive solar flare hit the Earth, sending the human race back into the Dark Ages. A Second Dark Ages.

Abandoned City of Toronto, Former Province of Ontario, Canada

September 20^th, 2019 (7 A.E.)

In downtown Toronto, once bustling and the capital of Ontario, now lies abandoned to encroaching nature that will likely overtake it in the years to come. Grass peeks through cracked sidewalks and roads, while buildings start to sprout grass and vines. The city is eerily quiet, punctuated only by the dissonant melodies of birds.

Inside a weathered black van, a young woman sleeps in the back while an older man with a grey beard and yellow eyes sits in the front, smoking a Camel cigarette leisurely. His gaze fixates on the Royal Ontario Museum, its walls gradually being reclaimed by nature, a symbol of the past. With a shake of his head, he sighs heavily.

Behind him, the young woman murmurs in her sleep. Her hair is disheveled, and she's dressed in cozy attire, wearing track pants and a brown sweater.

The older man coughs, spitting out the window. "Alright, Rohanna. We need to go inside now," he tells his companion in the back, who grumbles curses as she wakes up and shakes her head. "Seriously, old man?" she says. "Can't we have just one more hour of sleep?"

"They're expecting us. Come on, Ro. We have to get going."

Opening the door, the old man leaps out of the van. His revolver snug in its holster on his belt, a fresh cigarette dangling from his lips. He lights it, then raps on the van.

"Get up, kid!" he shouts, scanning the surroundings. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

A moment later, the young woman emerges from the back, carrying a bag on her shoulder and her own pistol on her hip. "Alright, I'm ready to head inside. The deal's going down in the medieval section, yeah?"

"Yeah. Haven't set foot in here since the Solar Flare. Can't even recall what this place looks like now. Must've been... ages," the old man muses.

"Since the 1800s?" Rohanna quips, managing a faint smile.

"Nah, just the 1990s. Still, it's all different now," he replies.

"I've never been in a museum," Rohanna admits. "Only been to a zoo."

"Zoos... I used to take my son to the Toronto Zoo. Seems like another lifetime," he reminisces.

"The zoo I went to was small, mostly birds and four-legged critters," Rohanna remarks. "So, are we going in or what?"

"Yeah, let's go. This way," the old man directs, leading Rohanna toward the back entrance, meant for students on field trips in better days. The street is strewn with abandoned vehicles, remnants of the traffic jams turned graveyards on that fateful December day. Bird nests weigh down traffic lights, while rust eats away at the city.

The back door, likely left unlocked by the people they were meeting, swung open easily. Inside, the museum appeared pristine. Tables that once hosted lunch breaks for hungry students remained, neatly aligned. But the benches sat empty, untouched for years. The atmosphere was somberly dim, as if the vitality once pulsating within these walls had been snuffed out. Only faint light filtered in from the ground-level windows above the walls.

"Alright. How do we get to the medieval display?" the old man mused, leading Rohanna toward the main stairs. The crest poles, once museum highlights, now stood solitary, draped in cobwebs. As the two survivors ascended, they gazed upon them in awe. The steps were dusty, and upon reaching the landing, they noticed animal droppings, scattered debris, and dirt covering the floor. Above, stained glass windows lay shattered, while the wooden poles supporting the building showed signs of decay.

"This place will collapse in a decade, no doubt. It's falling apart," the old man remarked, inspecting the decaying wood. "Too much cold, too much rain."

"Great. Let's move. It stinks in here," Rohanna urged.

"Right, well..."

"Hurry up, old man!" Rohanna interjected, taking the lead, her bag clutched in her hands like a schoolchild. Her steps were swift, purposeful, almost skipping. She passed by beautiful mosaics on the walls.

"You know what?" the old man pondered, scanning the area. "I think some of the statues in here were stolen."

"No kidding, Bill!" Rohanna replied with a smile, continuing into the Egypt exhibit.

"Slow down, girl! Don't get lost!" the old man called after her, chuckling at the thought of himself as a father yelling after his son. "Just like old times."

"Hurry up!"

The Egyptian section of the museum had been stripped bare of its treasures. Only displays with descriptions but no artifacts remained. "Things like ancient artifacts were probably stolen and sold off shortly after the chaos," the old man remarked. "Egyptian relics would've fetched millions. Some lucky ones hit the jackpot, if they survived the radiation from the power plant explosions. That was a grim time."

"Speaking of radiation..."

"It's cleared in some areas... but other parts of Toronto are still contaminated," the old man continued.

The two survivors stood before an empty display, the artifacts long gone, leaving a void where they once sat.

"It's a shame we couldn't have visited when it was still open," Rohanna said, her eyes scanning the display. "This would've held a mummy in its coffin. Creepy. I wonder where that guy ended up?"

"Probably destroyed by now or sold to a collector. Hopefully the latter," Bill sighed, shaking his head. "My son was fascinated by ancient Egypt."

"So was my brother."

"Yeah, we used to come here often. Now, he's gone. Like we all end up eventually," Bill said sadly, then moved towards the central exhibit, a recreation of a pharaoh's tomb.

The tomb was a square room with white stone walls, but the artifacts were gone. "Huh, just like when the British looted the actual tombs. What goes around..." Bill muttered.

"Old man! I saw someone!" Rohanna exclaimed as she entered the room. "It was a guy with long hair and military gear!"

"Alright, alright. It's probably the guys we're meeting here," Bill reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You act tough, but..."

"...I'm a big softie. Yeah, I know," Rohanna finished with a wry smile.

The two made their way through the museum toward the medieval section, consulting a map they had found to navigate. It took some time, passing through various exhibits, before they finally arrived. Standing in what used to be the area for medieval artifacts, they found nothing but a themed graveyard, similar to the Egyptian exhibit. The space was a labyrinth of empty displays. Bill appeared disappointed at the absence of any artifacts; even the paintings that once adorned the walls were missing, likely pried out long ago.

"This museum used to be full of insight. Now it's just walls and dirt," Bill remarked as they wandered through the hall. Glass displays lay shattered, the sound of crunching glass beneath the old man's boots. "These used to hold our shared histories."

"Now they're nothing. That's just how the world goes," Rohanna replied, shrugging. "This is the new normal. Memories fade away, like dust in the wind or grains of sand on a beach. Bill, this is the world we abandoned. A world of significance now extinct."

"I prefer not to dwell on it," Bill admitted.

"It's reality, Bill. We've got to carve out our own path now," Rohanna replied, stepping ahead of him. "Let's just grab those meal tickets, alright?"

"Sure thing, kid," the old man agreed, falling into step behind her.

As they continued along the desolate exhibit, they started to hear noises. Faint shouts echoed in the distance.

"Doesn't sound like a friendly chat," Rohanna conceded, glancing at Bill. "Are we really sure we can trust them? I mean, I get what you explained about Michael and all, but I've got a feeling we're not going to be welcomed with open arms. Why didn't they just meet us at the entrance or something?"

"Listen, kid, I've known Michael since not long after the solar flare scorched the Earth. Just trust me on this, alright? He's bailed me out more times than I can count," Bill assured her, leading the way towards the source of the argument.

"Exaggerate much, Bill?" Rohanna teased, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"It's how I've stayed alive this long, kid. Seeing everything as a potential disaster, just like that damn solar storm that fried everything we relied on," Bill confessed.

Marching on, they fell into silence as the voices grew louder.

"I think they're arguing about us!" Rohanna whispered, her brown hair slipping loose as she tried to keep it up. The old man moved closer, stealthily approaching the arguing men. He noticed two figures among them, neither of whom he recognized. Pulling back, a sense of unease washed over him about the whole situation.

"They're holed up in one of the displays, with a dining table. Looks like it's from the Napoleon-era exhibit," Bill informed his companion. "I didn't spot Michael or that long-haired guy you mentioned."

"What do you want to do? What are they saying now?" Rohanna asked.

"We're going to get those tickets... I can't face Joseph back at the commune without them. He'd probably kill both of us," Bill admitted. "They weren't yelling when I last checked."

"Okay, okay... I have an idea!" Rohanna exclaimed. "I'll create a distraction. I'll find something to throw. While they're distracted, you sneak in and see if they have the tickets!"

Bill seemed taken aback. "That could be reckless, kid."

"Sure, but it might also get us out of here!" Rohanna persisted.

"No, kid. It'll get us killed. You need to think for yourself. I can't do it for you," the old man replied, turning to walk in the opposite direction. "Come on, I have a better plan."

"Where are we going, Bill?" Rohanna asked as they walked through the medieval exhibit. "Why couldn't we just go with my plan?"

"Quiet," Bill snapped.

"What the hell, Bill!"

"Just hush. I need to think."

"Think? Is this a classroom?" Rohanna retorted.

"You're impulsive. You'd risk your safety just to get what you want," Bill countered.

"That's how I've survived this long. We don't have time to think and—"

"There's always time to think!" Bill interrupted, turning around. "Stop and think. Why didn't I want you running off and attracting attention?"

"Because you're stubborn, and you always have been!" Rohanna retorted, shrugging.

"No! Because you matter to me, kid. You're the future of humanity."

"You're still here, Bill. You're talking like you're dying," Rohanna observed.

The old man closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm not dying, kid. But I am old. My time is running out, while yours keeps going. Come on, let's go find the backrooms. I saw a back door going into the exhibit they were hiding in.”

"Oh, I get it, sneak in from behind," Rohanna joked sheepishly. "Get it? From behind?"

"Disgusting. Think like the adult you are, kid," Bill chided.

"Ironic," Rohanna remarked.

Bill chuckled as they walked. "Yeah, calling you 'kid' there. Irony."

"Should we shoot them?" Rohanna asked as they reached a junction where elevators met a set of stairs.

"That's not the goal, no," Bill replied.

"So... we wait until they leave?"

"Yes, that's a better option," Bill commented as they searched for a staff room. They descended into another area, but this one lacked an identifiable theme. "This must've been the Canadian history section. They used to have old hockey gear in here."

"What team?" Rohanna inquired.

"The Habs."

"I would've preferred the Maple Leafs."

"No to them too. You know me, kid. I'm a Senators fan."

The two continued searching for a back door without stopping.

"Hey Bill! Over here!" Rohanna called out excitedly to her companion.

Bill hurried over to where Rohanna was standing, next to a door hidden beside a display case. Together, they entered the back room. Inside, they found a staff area and a storage space, where some of the artifacts still remained.

Rohanna approached a marble bust of an ancient emperor, its origins now uncertain between Rome or Greece. Clearly abandoned, it bore cracks on its face, with a missing piece. "Huh, look Bill... history!" she exclaimed with a smile. "It's still intact!"

"Barely. In the past, this museum housed hundreds of busts. But now, only one remains... and it's broken," Bill remarked solemnly.

Rohanna approached a painting depicting a woman and a man seated in a field. Her eyes followed the contours of the man's figure. Bill joined her, letting out a low whistle at the size of the painting.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he mused. "I miss paintings. Not many museums are open anymore."

"Yeah, the wealthy have them, or they're destroyed. But this one isn't," Rohanna remarked, attempting to lift it, but Bill intervened.

“C’mon, let’s keep moving.”

The two walked through the staff hallway, flanked by laboratories and smaller rooms on either side. The corridor was dark, illuminated only by their flashlights. As they passed each room, they couldn't help but notice the abundance of animal droppings scattered everywhere.

"Bill, are we almost there?" Rohanna interrupted.

"I don't know. I'm just heading in the direction of the—" Bill began, but a man’s voice abruptly cut him off.

"STOP! Both of you!" came a sudden command from behind. The two obeyed and froze in place. Footsteps echoed from behind, and the beam of their flashlights illuminated the hallway. Bill turned around and found himself face to face with the long-haired man, followed closely by the two individuals he had witnessed arguing earlier.

"Turn around, girl!" One of the men commanded. Rohanna complied, but not without sticking her tongue out at them. They responded with smirks and laughter. The man with the long beard approached the two survivors.

"So, you two must be Bill and Rohanna. Legendary cheats. At least, that's what Michael claimed, before we... took care of him. But that's a long and bloody story," the bearded man stated.

Bill coughed. "Who's Michael?"

"Michael Lazara. The man you were meeting here. For the meal tickets... Don't play dumb, old man. He described you perfectly... in between screams of pain," the bearded man smiled. "Those meal tickets belong to us. And you two... belong in here."

"What do you mean?" Bill inquired.

"Well, you're old anyway, and this museum... it needs to burn, along with the old folks inside," the bearded man declared, glancing at Rohanna and chuckling. "Maybe we'll keep the girl though. She's not too bad looking!"

As the two men approached Rohanna, Bill sprang into action. With swift movements, he delivered a punch to the bearded man and swiftly drew his revolver. Taking aim, he fired, hitting both men squarely in their chests. "Sorry," Bill muttered to the two men as they writhed in pain on the floor, their lives slipping away. Turning around, he noticed Rohanna had her pistol out, aimed at the fallen men.

"That was—" Rohanna began.

"Close?" Bill finished her sentence, his breath heavy as he holstered his gun. "Yeah, too close. Come on, let's get those tickets!"

The old man sniffed the air and caught the scent of smoke coming from behind them, where the hallway led to the medieval exhibit. "Fire. He wasn't kidding. Look!"

Down the hall, a thick cloud of dark smoke was filling the space.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Bill and Rohanna exchange alarmed glances as they observe the thick cloud of dark smoke billowing down the hallway from the direction of the medieval exhibit.

"We have to get out of here, now!" Bill urges, his voice tense with urgency. The smoke was advancing rapidly, and he realized the danger outweighed any potential reward.

The two ran towards the exit, but flames blocked their path as they reached the junction point. The whole floor seemed to be on fire, like chaos itself was unleashed. Unable to go forward, they hurried back out of the medieval area, desperate for safety.

As they headed towards the back entrance they came through, they found it blocked by a vehicle outside. Pausing in the lunch area, they quickly discussed their options.

"Kid, this building will collapse and burn fast," Bill warned, aiming his gun and shooting a hole in one of the top windows.

"Bill?" Rohanna questioned, puzzled.

Grabbing a can from the trash, he tossed it through the window, shattering it.

"Bill!" Rohanna protested, confused by his actions. Bill grabbed her and lifted her up.

"Bill! Stop!" she pleaded.

"You're going to escape through the window, kid. I'll push you up!" he insisted. With his help, she grabbed onto the window sill, pulled herself up, and crawled out of the building. Turning back, she screamed: "Bill! Climb onto a table!"

The smoke thickened, and Bill struggled to move the tables. "Kid, they're stuck. I can't get up there. GO! Before more come and harm you! GO now!"

"But Bill!"

"Go, kid. I'll be okay. Find a place to live and move on. Our time together on this Earth is over," Bill said, tears forming. "Go, NOW!"

With no other choice, Rohanna left Bill to his fate. Running towards the van, she noticed it was now night. Opening the door, she started the van and drove off through the traffic jam graveyard. The burning museum glowed behind her as she wept, knowing her world had changed. Whether for better or worse, only time would tell.

Those who passed on this day:

Michael Lazara b. July 20^th, 1977 – d. Sept. 20^th, 2019 (7 A.E.) aged 42, murdered.

Thomas Robell b. March 12^th, 1988 – d. Sept. 20^th, 2019 aged 31, shot in chest.

Marcus Beck b. April 10^th, 1984 – d. Sept. 20^th, 2019 aged 35, shot in chest.