The Building, part 2

More months passed and everyone agreed that the building had shot up far faster than any other before it. Were they bypassing building and safety codes? All we could do was speculate. When the newspaper ran a story about it, it told us what we already knew (that the building was going up fast) mixed with some pundit’s speculation about it. Krimm hadn’t made any statements since the first one.

The building seemed to be nearing completion, as the rough, windowless adobe-looking material looked like it would curve to a domed close at the top. It truly looked like a pale finger pointing at the heavens. All that was left was the very tip of the finger. It looked like the construction was a mere week away from closing the finger and dubbing the building completed.

I kept a closer eye on the building the next few days. That Tuesday on my morning commute, it looked like the top of the finger had come together. On my evening commute, I saw a crowd gathering at the base of the building, right at the door where I had tried to look in months earlier.

Of course, I couldn’t help myself and approached the outside of the crowd. People were muttering about Nephilous Krimm making a speech to mark the completion of his tower. It couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes before the crowd fell silent and a figure came out through the glass door.

He stood on a small podium and raised a hand, both to greet and quiet us. He looked just like any other business man, with a suit and tie. His hair looked flawlessly combed and neat. He stood confident and tall. He smiled deep into his cheeks and seemed like he could win over any person standing in this crowd.

“Hello everyone,” he began. The city street was utterly silent. A baby cried two blocks away.

“Thank you for coming to the grand opening of my building. It will be some magnificent work we will accomplish here. If anyone would like to work with me, simply quit your job and be here tomorrow morning at 8am and we will begin. Thank you.” He waved again to the crowd and turned and walked back through the front door.

The crowd remained silent for a full minute, wanting there to be more. More information, more details. Perhaps even more of the intriguing presence of Mr. Krimm himself. Once the chatter of the crowd started again, I overheard numerous people near me say that they were going to inform their boss that they quit, and they’d show up here tomorrow at 8am. Krimm had that sort of sway over people, to engage them and win them over to himself.

I walked home. As much as my curiosity wanted to drop everything and show up tomorrow morning, I couldn’t justify leaving everything behind just for one man I’d heard speak once.

The following days, I heard about the swarms of men who showed up that morning to work for the mysterious Nephilous Krimm. I saw photos in the paper of the hundreds of men gathered outside the front door of the windowless building. The report said that not a single person was turned away for a job. Every single one was welcomed in. The paper did mention, however, that they were unable to attain a comment from anyone who had gone to work for him. It was as if they went in but didn’t come out.

As I passed by the building on my daily commute, I always glanced over toward the building and saw small crowds of people. Some were simply observing, others were trying to get in to work for Krimm.

Over the following weeks, the hubbub died down around the building, as there were no new updates. The tall, pale finger of the skyscraper sat there, looking dead except for the small crowd always congregated at its base. Nephilous Krimm was silent and the newspapers couldn’t come up with anything noteworthy to say about it that hadn’t been said before.

Then one Thursday, the men appeared in the streets. There were hundreds of them wearing strange uniforms, unlike anything I’d seen before.

Compilation of photos of the men.

They seemed to endlessly stream out from Krimm’s building and spread throughout the entire city. They walked with intention, splitting off in groups to walk to every part of the city. Within a few hours that Thursday, they were posted everywhere in the city. You couldn’t walk more than two blocks without seeing at least one group of them, monitoring and patrolling the streets.

They didn’t do anything, however. They didn’t say anything or interact with anyone on the streets. They didn’t seem particularly interested in enforcing anything. In fact, if it weren’t for their uniforms and masks, they would have looked just like any normal person going for a stroll through the city streets. Initially there was a lot of confusion and intrigue over these groups of uniformed men walking the streets in their strange outfits, but they didn’t bother anyone. And of course, there is no law against wearing matching clothes in big groups and wandering the streets of our city.

The newspapers were abuzz with speculation and theories about the men. None of them would answer any questions from reporters or civilians. They didn’t even seem to speak to one another, but it was hard to tell because of the masks they wore. So all that was left for us was more speculation.

By Saturday we had nearly gotten used to the guards’ presence posted all over the city. They didn’t bother anyone, or really do much of anything.

But on Sunday, everything changed.

to be continued…

e

100 days of blogs, day 9

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Published on July 31, 2024 15:34
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