Before the gates of hell

#1
[FONT=&quot]Chapter 1

The sky was bathed in a white smoke, like the color of the snow when it falls in the cold lands of Finland during the most deadly frost, when a squadron of six F-16 aircraft flied over the city at full speed. Sirens filled the city with a kind of warning that what moved the masses like caged mice running from a hungry cat. There was no order. There was patience. People were running from side to side, trying to hide, trying to hide the fear that their faces reflected.[/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]

[/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]They had spent a few hours after the first alarm about the biological disaster that had been released in the small town of Monterrey. The F-16 continued their pre-established paths to the horizon where the release of a suspected toxic gas that made people suffered lacerations and maceration on the entire body had begun. In the distance I could see how the sky was bathed in an sunrise orange and a cloud of gaseous material rose into the sky.[/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]

-A fire- I said to myself, while I laughed at the events that were taking place throughout the city. - How can you give more importance to a fire that the health of millions of people?! It's outrageous! It's just bullshit! - I exalted as he walked through the ghost streets, every second that passed, the activity that once before was called a normal life was being lost.[/FONT]​

[FONT=&quot]

I turned my gaze once more toward the horizon to distinguish as the planes had escaped my sight and the fire was visible in all its glory. I walked the streets of Lions Avenue, when I noticed where the smoke came from. It was one of the most urbanized parts of the city, where there were lots of people and one of the largest communities of people who, until recent years had begun to arise.

"Summits" I said as I walked away increasingly from the place where the fire. It was easy as a few hundred meters from the epicenter of hell when I stopped walking in order to move my hand back inside my coat and recover a little lighter that I kept in my pocket all the time. "My house is gone, my community has left me and will leave everything else as you left me," he told the lighter as he stared out a couple of minutes, then get off my coat for a pack of Benson Hill menthol cigarettes. I took one in my trembling hands and put it slowly into my mouth. I licked my lips and placed the pack back into place. My hands were shaking, due to poor pulse that I've had to live with for more than twenty years since that day.[/FONT][FONT=&quot][/FONT]​