[ WP ] Mankind has succesfully deleted every trace of the year 2016 . You , a historian in the year 2416 begin to wonder why there are no records of the year 2016 ever happening . When you begin to investigate , what you uncover , sends chills down your spine .

& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ JOHNSON! ” my boss bellowed from his office. I flinched timidly, and rose to begin the walk from my dingy cubicle to his door. ‘ We have phones, he could have discretely called me in ’, I thought, but I knew that wasn ’ t his style. His gargantuan mahogany desk and throne-like chair towered over the seat in front of him. He gestured with a violent hand motion to the minuscule chair, and I sat down. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ Johnson, what do we do here at the Weekly History Gazette? ” to this, I gave no immediate answer. I knew it was rhetorical, as I had been asked this many times before. Letting the question hang in the air for several moments, I finally began to answer meekly, “ Well sir... we- ” 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ We entertain people, Johnson! ” He interrupted, “ With all this goddamn peace in the world, everyone getting along and shit, there isn ’ t anything interesting going on ANYWHERE! ” spittle flew from his mouth, and his tone suggested he was not only angry about world peace, but that it was my fault. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ Yes sir, I understand. I have been researching a period in the 20th century, when a young man from the former country of ‘ Germany ’ led a terrible crusade to take over the world, killing millio- ” 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ Billings did that report already. ” his mustache twitched as he cut my sentence off, “ That shit is depressing. Find us something light, something that will get us readers! These new age hippies don ’ t want to read about death, they want fluff! Find me some cud these god damn cows can chew on, and do it NOW! ” 
 Skulking back to my desk, I sat down. This was never what I had hoped for when I got my historical-journalism degree. I wanted to report on the events of the past that could shed light on our future, important points in history. I was especially interested in war, times of upheaval and violent change. But all that dick heap wanted was what brought in more subscribers. No one wanted to hear about the crusades, the black plague, the many empires that had formed and fallen before us. They wanted ceaseless, unending happiness, which I found maddening. But I needed a paycheck, so I began to open files on my elderly desktop. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; The filing system worked as such: tumultuous times, periods of upheaval and strife, were colored deepening shades of red. Many centuries prior to the 24th had swaths of this color, with sections of peace interspersed. I swiped the screen through the ages, landing briefly at the 20th. ‘ If only I could report what I wanted! ’ I said desperately in my head, ‘ There is so much to be learned from World War 2… ’ expanding this section of time, I slowly dragged my finger past the deep red of global conflict. The color faded as I went decade by decade, then year by year. Passing the turn of the century, I saw there was still major conflict, but violence and political unrest no where near the level they had been. As I pushed through the beginning of the new millennium, something caught my eye. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ This can ’ t be right ” I whispered aloud, refreshing and scrolling back through. But there was no mistaking it. A file was missing. Not just a file, but rather an entire year. The year 2016 was just... gone. I ’ d never seen this before. I searched other databases, but every public server showed nothing but error messages and maintenance symbols. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I stood up, hiding my emotions behind a blank expression, one I had practiced frequently. I walked to my bosses office once more, only to see he had left for his customary 2 hour lunch. ‘ This can ’ t wait, ’ I thought, and debated internally with my hand pressed to the wood grain of his office door. Curiosity and determination ran through my brain, battling briefly with my cowardice. I entered the room. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Closing the blinds, I walked over to his computer. It was running, and already logged in, so no password was required. My fingers trembled as I sifted through databases, looking for the restricted and confidential servers I could usually not access. Searching through drawers, while glancing with frantic paranoia at the door, I found a black envelope with the highest clearance level codes. Once I was in, I could barely contain myself as I entered 4 digits. The computer whirred heavily, as though it were processing something unfamiliar and unfathomable. Finally, a single file appeared, its color the deepest of crimson. It took all my concentration to stop my hand from shaking as I clicked. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Images began to appear in front of me. The images were strange, disconnected and disconcerting. I saw a close up of a fist balled up by someone's side. Some long extinct mammal grabbing a child, and being shot down. People holding their arms, one extended, and the other bent in front of their face. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ What does this mean?! ” I said desperately, as more and more inane and nonsensical pictures exploded into my view. I turned around, I could take no more of the images. As I did, I looked out the window. There, I could see my boss, returning from his extended break. In a panic, I inserted a flash drive into the computer. The files were copied onto the drive as I opened the blinds and returned the room to the state I had found it in. I moved as quickly and calmly as I could back to my desk, and sat down breathless. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I looked around the room, adrenaline running through my veins. I felt the weight of the drive in my hands, and stared down at it. ‘ I will find out what this is ’, I thought, and began to write a label, ‘ Why this secret war had to be erased. The people will know the truth. ’ Finishing the label, I turned it to the light, the black letters shining in the fluorescent illumination. 
 
 THE GREAT MEME WAR OF 2016
