[ WP ] Around the world , the following message was heard : `` We would like to announce that Hell is finally empty . ''

It had felt like the ending moment of a fading dream. He thought, perhaps, if he were to blink, the feeling would vanish. As if it had never existed at all. He wanted desperately to reach out, to grasp it, and to hang on. It was all too quick for him, and like water rushing through an open crack in the floor, it slipped through his fingers, and he was without it. 
 
 Someone had once told him that all things must end. This, too, they had whispered, would end. He could not help but feel a sense of profound understanding, now, as he glanced around the empty darkness of The Room, its walls echoing back to him the silence which now permeated this place. 
 
 Perhaps it was hubris which had blinded him to the facts. Perhaps he simply could not force himself to see the writing that was, by now, surely written on all four walls, underlined, emphasized, and notarized. Or perhaps he was just selectively blind to truths that did not fit into his molded view of reality, and the world which he had built around himself. 
 
 He walked to the window which overlooked the city. The streets, dark and silent now, peered back at him through the glass. His was the tallest building for miles, and he could see as far as the darkest edge would allow. Not a single sign of movement could be seen below. Everything was still now. Silence had taken its permanent residence. 
 
 Walking back to his desk, he sat down, and took out a small bottle of whiskey that he had been saving for a special occasion. Now is as good a time as any, he thought to himself as he poured a small bit into a dusty, empty glass. He placed the bottle next to the digital counter at the center of the desk. Its face still blinking. Over, and over, it blinked. Almost desperately. Urgently. The feeling of shock at its display had finally begun to fade as the alcohol burned its way into his belly. 
 
 Next to the digital counter, a red telephone sat. Taking a second drink, he reached forward, picked up the receiver, and dialed a few numbers. Clearing his throat, he leaned forward, and spoke. He could hear the sounds echoing and booming through the telephone against the walls of the buildings outside. 
 
 `` Management would like to thank you all for your participation in this exercise. We are greatly indebted to you, and to your sacrifices. I know nobody is hearing this right now.'' 
 
 He stopped himself, taking a deep breath, and a third drink from the now empty glass, setting it aside on the top of the desk. Opening the top drawer, he took a loaded pistol out from beneath a stack of notebooks. Placing the barrel against his temple, he took a deep breath. 
 
 `` We would like to announce that Hell is finally empty.'' 
 
 He pulled the trigger.
