The Figure in the Frame: ch. 2 stratford

 

2. stratford

The sound came from deep within City Hall. It rumbled across the street, now nearly empty and silent. Katherine

Hays stared out upon the near-Gothic design of the town's main building, wondering if she'd made the right choice.

Among Main Street, phantom shops stood decaying against the crumbling architecture of a city once proud and prosperous. Art thrived here. So too did business and commerce— businesses like restaurants and breweries that complimented the artists and bohemian souls that frequented the town of Stratford.

Now, those shops stood silent—its people, ghosts. Few citizens remained in Stratford after The Fall. It came swiftly and aggressively, wiping out the entire artisan population in a single blow—first the quake, then the plague that swept through its streets, then its unsustainability in keeping those who survived afloat.

Much has been said about The Fall. Theories abound. But few facts have been proven. We do know this: on the morning of July 7th, 2023, an earthquake that completely shattered the Richter Scale blasted through Stratford, Ontario, swallowing nearly half the town—buildings and all. Brick, mortar and stone crumbled along Main Street. Craftsmanship was reduced to rubble, like a child knocking over a sand castle. People died. Survivors fled. But it wasn't long until a second disaster struck—this time, in the form of a viral disease that latched onto the survivors and turned their innards inside out.

A worldwide emergency was declared. The world itself descended upon Stratford, desperate to know the truth behind these strange events. The scars of past tragedies began to scab over as news started trickling about what was happening in the small Ontario town. Earthquakes abounded; the world had dealt with viral pandemics before.

But this was different. Odd circumstances surrounded the catastrophe—for one, nobody could explain how City Hall remained completely intact. Not one stone was upturned in the chaos. When people fled, and shops continued deteriorating, City Hall held proud. The earthquake seemed to flow outward, away from the building, with scans originating from the basement. That mystery indubitably set conspiracy theorists off. Government officials swore that nothing inconspicuous was happening there. But non-believers multiplied. And they continued to multiply when an even stranger thing happened: among those that survived the plague, an even smaller few that had been exposed to the virus were tested and found to have eradicated the illness themselves—no vaccines, no medicine.

Enter: Katherine Hays. A survivor from the neighboring town who happened to be doing groceries when the quakes hit. At home, her unsuspecting wife and child weren't prepared for the tragedy. They perished.

It took her a long time to make peace, and part of her never really did, but it also took her a long time to decide that she wanted to make a difference. Millions perished between the quakes and the virus—millions more are said to be infected without even knowing it. Ideas have been posited. Nothing proven. But the world knows one thing for certain: in the basement of City Hall in the town of Stratford, Ontario, there lies a crater that runs deep into the earth. It opened the day the earthquakes began, yawning its eternal darkness. From the mouth of the abyss came the virus that choked the citizens in its vicinity, leaving experts stumped. Tests have been attempted. Scans have been made. Nothing has been fruitful. At least not from afar.

When the American and Canadian governments asked Katherine to lead a group of scientists into the hole (based on a long, prodigious career in spelunking), she refused. "Are you fucking crazy?" she said to a roomful of suited men and women. They assured her they probably were, but that they had no other choice. Their desperation was plain—they wore it on their sleeves. Katherine saw it. She knew that desperation because she grappled with it all day, everyday, ever since losing her family.

It was that desperate hope—a fool's hope—that finally convinced her to do it. She didn't care what happened to her anymore. She wasn't doing this for herself. Hell, if she was being honest she wasn't even doing it for everyone else, either.

She was doing it all for them—for Lily, and for Kevin. An artist and a son, who never got to grow up and decide what to do with his own life. Katherine used that anger to fuel her decision. She was doing it for them. 

It was with that fool's hope that she led the scientists into the building, into the basement and away from the light, straight into the darkness.