Rampage.(Kevin Hughes) The pressure was enormous. Soul after soul was pressed against the lip of the portal. Waiting.
Millions of them. Finally, a tipping point was reached. One more mass shooting was all it took.
It pushed the pressure past the tolerance of even the most benign God.

The souls of all those who never got a chance to be born, have a child, go on a bike ride, fall in love, eat a cookie, take a shower with a sunburn, giggle at silly jokes, hug someone they loved, and all the other little things and moments in Life, that living gives a person... all those souls broke through the portal. Every single soul that didn’t get a chance at Life, simply because murder…or war (and what’s the real difference there?) cut short a person’s life.

The collected souls of all those who would have been, but weren’t, busted through the Portal. The knew right where to go. They knew who to go after. They knew where they were. They spewed from the Portal.

They were on a rampage.

*****

Tommy Stevens was quietly polishing his AR -15. Tomorrow he would go to School and make the News. He hated just about everyone, but mostly…himself. The first person he shot would be his best friend Ryan. Ryan had talked a big game of hate, but when Tommy told him he had the guns and ammo now…well, Ryan suddenly thought it was a bad idea. Yeah, he would start with Ryan.

Tommy turned in to see what the commotion was at the door of the “Bonus Room”. His Parents had long ago stopped bothering him, they gave him everything he asked for and rarely came up to the bonus room to check on him. If he didn’t bother them…they didn’t bother him. So the whistling sound at his door irritated him. Everything in Life irritated him. He barely had time to stand up to start to yell at whoever was on the other side of the door…when the door burst open.


Tommy’s jaw dropped open in shock, a moment later it stayed open to scream.

Soul after soul tore at his, ripping it from his body in bloodless revenge.

Those that never were... made sure he became one that never was.

The AR-15, the notes, the Social Media Posts, the threats, the 250 rounds of ammunition, the black clothes and Kevlar body armor, all were found with his body. What they couldn’t find were any marks on Tommy’s body. The look of terror on his face, a rictus that: the Police, his Parents, and the Coroner would never be able to forget, was the only clue they had.

It wasn’t enough. The Coroner ruled that the cause of Death…was fear.

He was only partially right.


*****

The so called: "Elected Dictator”, his sycophant Generals, and Staff were deep in a hidden bunker. The Field Generals were all on a closed Zoom circuit from the Battlefield direct to the Bunker. They were about to plan even more carnage as their overall all plan to completely destroy the “enemy” and then claim the rubble as their territory was working. They could win the war of attrition simply because they had more soldiers, more weapons, and more ammunition. All they were lacking was any moral compass and compassion.

The Dictator loved giving orders. His mouth opened to give another one. He wanted more death, more destruction, he wanted to show the World how strong he was. The words never made it out of his mouth. The Bunker door burst open. It was designed to withstand even the immense pressure of the shock wave from a Hydrogen Bomb. Only a direct hit would cause it to fail.

Yet it was torn apart like tissue paper by the thousands, no…millions…of unborn souls. They weren’t alone, they were joined by the souls of the ones who were born, but had their lives cut short by his Policies and Orders. The shrieks, screams, cries, bargaining, begging and pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. The souls that never were couldn’t hear them, the souls of the lives cut short…ignored them.

Piece by piece the souls of every person in that room, and the Generals on Zoom, were torn to shreds under an endless assault of Righteous Anger. It wasn’t a pretty death, it wasn’t an easy death. It was a final death. It took an eternity for them to die as their souls were ripped and savaged, but there would be no eternity for them.

The bodies were found without a mark on them. Faces either hidden by their own hands as they tried to cower, or their arms flung out in surrender, those were the two most common poses they found the bodies in. The faces…frozen in fear.

The Bunker was sealed.

No one cared.

*****

Shelly sat alone. She was going to kill herself. Social Media had stunted her self esteem when she first got on it…at thirteen. Now, just three years later, she loathed herself. Her followers, once Legion, were now down to just a measly few thousand. The comments had grown more and more spiteful, hurtful, harmful. She had read them all. Her boyfriend had broken up with her, claiming she was so self absorbed that she had no real emotions anymore. All she wanted was attention from strangers…not from friends. Her life was bereft of intimacy at any level.

She reached for the packet of heroin she had bought at school. Supposedly everyone was overdosing on it and dying peacefully. She would take twice as much as they said would do the job. She did not want to live. She was recording it on her iPhone, she smiled as she knew she would go Viral one last time. Millions would want to watch her die.

She heard a whistling sound. Her window blew open. Shards of glass just missed her. Suddenly she was surrounded by thousands of girls, just like her…except they had no substance…they were just…souls. They wrapped their arms around her. They showed her row after row of babies that would never be, the lives they would never live…they hugged her and held her.

Later…she flushed the drugs down the toilet. She texted her last text (for she would never again have a Smartphone…just a flip phone with no camera). Her face was tear stained, her soul was stained with the remnants of what she saw that night. The text went out to her ex-boyfriend. He was kind. He was gentle. She was sure he would understand. So she sent the text.

“Kevin, I am scared and lonely. Please come over and teach me how to be real. Please.”

Kevin read the text. Completely unaware of the thousands of souls surrounding him and peering at the text. They all heaved a collective sigh of release when he texted back a simple:

“On my way.”

They followed him to her house. All of them beaming as the conversation between two young souls guaranteed that at least some of them would get a chance at Life.

*****

The Rampage continued for weeks. Soul after soul paid the price for denying other souls their chance at Life. Other’s, like Shelly, were given a chance to correct the course of their life before it was to late. Others…the hate died with them, they were beyond hope and their fate became hopeless. The Rampage struck everywhere. Leaving no marks on the bodies of those it claimed, yet strangely leaving a mark on the world.

When it wound down, the balance was restored.

Every soul that should have gotten a chance at Life…did. The backlog of souls that "might have been" dwindled down to zero over time. None of those souls born after the Rampage were capable of denying and progeny a chance at Life. Murder, War, Suicide…all became things of the past. For the Rampage patrolled Humanity, ready to give pause to anyone thinking of taking, shortening, or ending any one’s chance at Life.

Sometimes just a single soul that could have been met with the soul of one that is…and that was enough. Other times, well, the Rampage just revealed how many downstream souls wouldn’t get to be…and that was enough.

Rarely, nowadays, the Rampage gave up on an individual and shredded that soul with revenge for its selfishness.

It wasn’t pretty.

But it worked.

The Rampage was over.

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