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The End: Final Hours of the Accursed Year

by iconDARK



December 31st, 2020. The End. Of the Beginning. Of the End of our world. I pray it is not so for yours. .Fools that we were; we celebrated the final hours of the accursed year. But what came next was neither deliverance nor salvation.

We had our vaccines, but there was no cure for the distrust, disillusionment and damage the virus had sewn. Just as the infection left our bodies weaker and more vulnerable than we first knew, it had done the same to our society. We were closer to the brink than most realized. But some did realize. And they took advantage.

Attacks on our infrastructure. The Internet. Transportation. On vaccine production and distribution. Uneasy mobs grew hot and lean from hunger, homelessness and the ever-present virus, slowly mutating on a diet of rage and suspicion. Fingers were pointed. None believed the truth. For too many, there was no truth to believe.

Those who sought power through chaos rejoiced. Unease became unrest. Unrest became the unthinkable. Martial law met armed resistance. Those who took solace that soldiers would not fire upon citizens were made fools. But the power they grasped would soon slip through their fingers like sand.

From this cesspool, a mutated virus erupted across the globe. The so-called American Variant was more deadly and insidious than its predecessors. Politicians ran out of fingers to point. Driven by a misguided vengeance, some intentionally shipped the virus to other shores, using their bodies as vectors. They succeeded too well, spouting the rhetoric of the year who’s demise we had cheered. The rest of the world did not take kindly to our betrayal.

Scientists worked on a vaccine amid gunfire and rolling blackouts. They had rolled the dice on a rushed vaccine before. This time we lost. The vaccine’s long-term effects were insidious and well hidden. The bill came due in the form of streets across the globe filled with corpses that still coughed and jerked when they were loaded on the trucks to be burned. Then, almost overnight, there were no trucks or people to load them. From there, it only got worse.


released December 18, 2020


all rights reserved



iconDARK Atlanta, Georgia

iconDARK is an Atlanta-based electronic music producer.

His music eschews the dance floor and rather evokes a sense of dark wonder, unease, and awe in the listener.

As an artist, iconDARK defies a single-genre classification. His instrumentals range from dark ambient to witch house to dark lofi to illbient to synthwave to darksynth to…

Yet he manages to bring his own flavor to each.
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