A few Notes of Great Importance.
'...this world and the world we go to after death are not far apart.'
–W. B. YEATS.
'The faeriee went from the world, dear,
Because men's hearts grew cold...'
Confidential Files belonging to the British Government concerning the Last Great War and the event known as 'The Rift.'
Extracts from the Diary of Winnie Cottington.
It's been a week since we retreated to the shelter, and I'm thoroughly sick of it. Do you know how hard it is to put up with Gavin and Joseph in this place? They're such pains with maturity levels of five year olds. Geez, and who knows how long we'll be stuck down here.
Of course, we have the Winthrop's from next door down here, and the Marvil's from the other side too. It's not too bad with others, but these shelters are really too small for all of us to live in for any REAL length of time. Got no choice, though, do we? The sirens came on and we all know what it means. It's meant to keep us safe, though I don't know how well this bunker'll do if it comes to the crunch.
I tried asking the Tel-screen how much longer the Gov. thinks of keeping us down here. It declined 'Information unknown' and I tried to ask it how the war's going and it only said what the last news report told us, which is not very much. Then the boys kicked me off it to play games on.
I reckon things are getting bad. Dad won't say nothing and Mum just stares off into space. But she's been like that ever since…
So I'm stuck writing a bloody diary. Who knows, maybe it'll become famous after the war, like Anne Frank, and kids'll read it in class. But that will only happen if I'm dead. Either by old age or…well otherwise. Definitely wouldn't hand out my thoughts on paper else.
God, so here I am, writing in this stupid diary again. There was no choice, I had absolutely nothing to do.
They still haven't let us out, incase you didn't notice. Ha ha.
Been playing cards with Sheri Marvil and her brother Derek. They're a bit older then me, but they needed another player so I'm in by default. Learnt a couple of games. It's not too bad, as in taking up the time. You just get so bored, though, and tired! We don't do anything but I'm always so tired and grumpy. I hate it!
Heard some planes fly past, but they must have been ours, cause no bombs were dropped. Sometimes you can hear dog fights, but they normally happen over the Atlantic.
Bombs went off today. Don't know where, but we heard them. Felt them. The Tel-screen won't answer any questions, even when Dad lost his nut and yelled at it. I hope my friends are alright. My mobile stopped working yesterday, and everyone else's ain't working either. I can't call anyone.
Gav got scared, so I looked after him for a bit. Mum's just gone white and rigid, and Dad's trying to calm her down. She ain't been right since Darrel went missing. In action. I think he's dead, but she don't want to believe it.
It's just, we've had bombs before, but it was nothing like this morning. I'm still shaking from the after shock, I swear. I think it's the beginning of something.
Power's been off for the past three days. We've got reserve batteries, of course, but we were told that we weren't likely to need them. So we're using them sparingly. It's seriously creepy, though, not even the Tel-screen works anymore. We're all real scared but trying to pretend not to be.
I HATE THIS!
Seriously, the waiting. Being utterly bored and then completely terrified at the same time.
None of the adults wants to talk about it, but I've got too! Ok, the Tel-screen came on again. Just once, and I was so relieved until I saw the P.M.'s face and he started speaking. He said that we're now in lockdown, and we won't be let out of the bunkers now until the threat has passed. And he said that minimum power will be allowed to each bunker, for air and the freezers and stuff. Lights and hot water are off. Which sucks, but at least we actually have some power.
But Lockdown means we can't get out. They've locked us in. Before we could open the doors, not that we would, but…this is bad. It means we're losing, or that they've started to nuke. Which means we'll nuke them, and I…
I don't know why I'm bothering this, the only thing I can think of is that as long as I write this down then I don't have to think about and-d that maybe its not really happening. Stupid, but I'm so scared now.
It happened, I know it did. We went all out against them and them to us. Can hear it, FEEL it, but its far worse then anything before. Everyone's screaming, crying, and here I am with my sodding diary and a half burnt candle and-
Geez, you just don't know, you just don't. I can't describe it. It sounds like the worlds torn up, like some big rip in the atmosphere. It was full on bombs until THAT noise, and the ringing and I think my ears are bleeding.
Shit. We can feel the shocks. It sounds like everything's screaming and wailing outside and I I don't think we'll
Extracts from an article by Quentin King, titled 'The Rift and the origins of the Phantasms.'
Note: King is to put under house arrest and publicly silenced. The parallels between the Phantasms and Old World folk tales is interesting but in no way truthful, helpful or appropriate for publication.
'…Though we do retain much of the Old World information, it cannot be disputed that much has been lost to us, and indeed, that much has changed. As it is, the finest minds of our day are still striving to uncover how the occurrence known as 'The Rift' came to be, bringing with it, of course, the plague of beings known as 'Phantasms.' It is commonly believed among the people that 'The Rift' came to be due to human cause. It cannot be doubted that the event coincided with the abrupt and climatic end to the 'Last of the Great Wars,' which ended the Old Time and brought mankind into a new, much more perilous age. Indeed, many have speculated that 'The Rift' is in fact a direct consequence of the Last War, the nuclear weaponry that was unleashed upon the world consequently breaking apart the barrier to another dimension. This is not the official view of our esteemed and dedicated Government, who, as their predecessors before them, have always claimed that the entities known as 'Phantasms' are some other worldly creatures, in short, aliens…'
'…Much mystery and doubt surrounds the coming of the 'Phantasms.' Indeed, very little is still known about them. The people of the Old World seemingly knew even less then us, as artifacts discovered from that period suggest that, in the midst of a global war, the coming of the 'Phantasm's' took them all completely by surprise. Recovered video footage (now confiscated by the current parliament) shows the common people reacting in absolute terror to the emerging entities, labeling them as 'monsters' and 'demons' frequently. Other sources, namely the 'Diary of Winnie Cottington' indicate that the coming of the 'Phantasms' was seen by some as the foretold Apocalypse of the Christian Bible. Interestingly, Winnie herself does not take this view, as in one of the very last entries, she describes them as '…fairies gone wrong…''
'…Is it mere coincidence then that the tactics and weaponry employed against the 'Phantasms' echo far older traditions? The abhorrence of steel and silver, and aversion of running water all mimic folk traditions with the aim of fending off supernatural beings in days of yore…'
'…It is my belief that the 'Phantasm's' are not, as the Government claim, extra terrestrial invaders, but instead, older entities belonging to this world, somehow separated or banished to their own dimension in an ancient age, only to be released during the nuclear climax of the Last War…'