“Don’t group up by the door! We’re being hit by an earthquake!” A man with cropped short hair and a very flowery Hawaiian shirt called out, “Find a safe place to ride it out, we’ll be all right!” The group followed his advice; of course, it was just an earthquake. The chairs started to rumble, the table with the snacks and drinks clattered, the high windows rattled. The quakes grew as the endless gliding papers with the poem printed on them still landed to the ground. As the last piece hit the ground a shriek of air blasted throughout the warehouse causing the temporary furnishings to smash against the walls. Some managed to dodge the flying chairs; others weren’t so lucky. The ground shook more violently than before. Yells and cries echoed out from the poor souls.

 That’s when Airie felt a hand grasp tightly onto her ankle. She looked down to see whose it was. The hand wasn’t coming from the side, front, or back of her, but from underneath her. Looking further the hand was coming from a dark void that she was now standing in. several screams caused Airie to look out into the crowd of people. The dark voids were appearing under everyone in the warehouse. They started as small drips then quickly expanded to surround its host.

 Several more arms erupted from the void and grabbed a hold of her, slowly traveling up her legs. The arms gave off the putrid smell of decomposition. The skin, or rather what was left, was shriveled up and appeared similar to gray leather. Some had exposed white radiuses and ulnas’ or missing phalanges.

 Airie felt herself slowly descend. Up to this point, she had remained calm, trying to assess the situation. Now, a new sensation overtook her. Staring out at each person, she watched as the dead hands grabbed onto their victims. She watched as the people who came to the warehouse open their mouths to scream or let profanities fill the air, but she only heard silence.

 The scene that played out before her felt so surreal that it seemed to be going in slow motion. Yet the arms dragging her into the void were now at her shoulders with half of her body already sunk into the depths. The others were already being pulled down as well. A few fought back at the dragging hands. Airie spotted the gangster punching at the leathery arms. The three cliquey girls were huddled together trying to wiggle away from the ever-reaching limbs. The woman with the leather jacket was using her nails to claw the dead phalanges away from her legs. Trickles of thick pale-yellow fluid flowed from the puncture wounds that were created. Mr. Know-it-all was clinging onto the door handle. His strength appeared to be losing to the persistence towing of the extremities.

 A combination of these actions was also played out by the other number of people. A stiff palm grasped Airie’s head, covering one of her eyes. Excitement overflowed from her as she felt her shoulders quickly recede into the numb deprived darkness. Raising her head as her neck slid down, Airie tried to catch the last glimpses of the people around her. Airie unconsciously took a breath before being completely submerged under the murkiness.