|Demon City: Atlanta 2049 (standard:science fiction, 10142 words)|
|Author: Alexander Williams||Added: Feb 21 2001||Views/Reads: 2757/2880||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Anime pilot; what if Demon City Shinjuku was NOT the end?|
DEMON CITY: ATLANTA 2049 by Alexander Williams Alexander Williams 161 Forest Ridge Ct Lawrenceville, GA 30045 © 2000, Alexander Williams (770) 339-1569 <pre> FADE IN: ACT ONE EXT - CITY OF ATLANTA 2002 (FROM AIR) - DAWN SUPER: Atlanta, 2002 Apr 19 The sun rises over the city of Atlanta. Sunlight burns off the high-rises, the office buildings, the thousands of cars in the streets. People hustle and bustle on the sidewalks already. A crow soars on an updraft over the heart of the city. Families sit down to breakfast together, visible through windows. Fathers kiss mothers. Children gather up schoolbooks. Employees, early to work, grumble in their offices as the flourescent lights flicker awake. There are a number of black ribbons in evidence. On car aerials. On sleeves. Lapels. Schoolbags. NARRATOR (V.O.) April, 2002. Atlanta. The city lies quiescent, in mourning for the passing of World President Rama only days before. INSERT: Faint image of Rama over city. It fades. NARRATOR (V.O.) (continuing) Rama had been hailed as the "new messiah," the "saviour of the world," "the modern saint." His death at the hands of assassins came as a horrid shock to many, especially after the amazing escape he managed in Tokyo, 1990. INSERT: Faint montage of assassination over placid city scenes. NARRATOR (V.O.) (continuing) Unknown to most, Rama assassins have no natural origin. This fact has been assiduously concealed from the public at large. That he died almost at the center of Atlanta, on the other hand, is common knowledge. In the middle of Olympic Park are heaped thousands of flowers, medallions, remembrances. A handfull of people weep openly at the obsidian marker in the center. The crow floats, unseen, toward the Perimeter. A RUMBLE. A SHUDDER. The NOISE builds like a groan. The street buckles. Several cars careen into the widening fissure. People leap from the cars, screaming at the sky, the street, each other. A building begins to topple. The steel groans an eerie cunterpoint to the sound coming from the ground, below the ground. Buildings begin to smash into one another. People fall from the windows. Pieces of the street begin tipping inward, outward, opening up holes which swallow cars whole. The ground shudders and rips apart like tissue. In one of the rips, the bottom can't be seen; the pit is full of sickly-green fire. As someone falls in, we watch them burn. NARRATOR (V.O.) (continuing) April nineteenth. The date of the Oklahoma Click here to read the rest of this story (1817 more lines)
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