As the alarm went off, the snooze button on Wes' phone dared him to touch it but he was already awake and had been for over an hour. He laid in bed with the odd conflict one would have when they realize they've forgotten to lock the car for the night and hear a strange sound outside combined with the dread of an out of place noise in the hallway outside the bedroom door.

He used the excuse of getting ready for work to finally roll out of bed but sat at the edge of it and rubbed the back of his neck.

What is this feeling? Maybe I'm getting sick.

After a short shower, Wes turned on his TV for background noise to fill the silence of his apartment as he dressed and prepared his breakfast.

"Here's an odd story for you: Power outages hours ago cause confusion," the reported of the morning news said strangely chipper for the tone of the story.

Wes looked at his stove clock and saw it stated the same time as his phone.

What power outage?

"Reports of power outages across the region have come up on the equipment at power plants but customers had power all night. Workers are baffled."

Wes ignored the TV but left it on as he took his breakfast outside to the cheap chair and table on his concrete porch. He pulled out his phone as he ate and scrolled through various feeds only to see the same topic over and over.

'Anyone else think the power company is paid too much when they can't even understand their own equipment?'

'#boycottelectricity'

'Electricity techs don't receive the love the deserve! They worked all night for you to wake up ungrateful. Enjoy your electricity, whiners!'

"Heard the hubbub?" A voice came from the balcony above Wes' porch.

"Morning, Mr. Young," he silently sighed. Mr. Young was a gossip, despite how big and gruff he sounded, and quite the conspiracy theorist. The morning would be gone if Wes didn't act fast. He grabbed his dishes and stood up. "I saw the news, all of my clocks were fine, I guess there's no story, I gotta go to work, good talking to you."

"No, boy!" He said excitedly above Wes. "You haven't heard the hubbub... because there is no hubbub."

Wes frowned and shook his head as he stopped in his doorway. There goes my morning.

"What did I not hear, Mr. Young?"

"Listen."

"I am."

The man huffed loudly. "Out there, boy!"

Wes looked out towards the field the apartments were backed against. The feeling that woke him hours ago but kept him in the safety of his bed crept back inside his mind.

No birds chirped. The hum of insects was absent. Even the rogue barking dog was missing from the air.

"Something ain't right. It's happening." Mr. Young said in a low growl as Wes looked into the fields as if the answer would be found there. "IT'S THE DAMN GOVERNMENT!"

Startled, Wes nearly dropped his dishes. He shook his head at the crazy man.

"I can't start a can of worms, Mr. Young. I have to go to work."

"You've proved my point! Events are all around you and you are too busy with the make-believe construct of normal life to question them. What do you do? Work, eat, sleep, repeat? Complacent! One day, it will all crumble down and you won't know what's happening or what to do!"

"I have to have a job, I have to pay for rent and bills. We can't all get by on YouTube money," Wes jabbed.

"I'm trying to help those searching for the truth find their way."

"Save it for the livestream, Mr. Young," Wes joked lightly. "Talk to you later."

He closed his glass door and collected his jacket, backpack, and keys. Before he left, he bent down to turn off the TV.

"Reports are coming in of odd animal behavior. If you have animals, secure them in their housing for their safety and yours and call Animal Control at the number below if any strange behavior occurs. We also remind our viewers it is never a good idea to approach wild anima--"

Mr. Young is going to be horrible after today.

After he locked up, Wes hopped on his bike and headed to work down the empty back road that had new apartments and subdivisions on one side and pastures on the other.

He pushed the absence of nature sounds away by keeping his thoughts on other things--like listing Mr. Young's obsessions.

The old man had a YouTube channel where all he did was spout crazy technological conspiracy theories about fluoride in the water, the ever-changing Montauk Project, anything related to Snowden, Project Blue Beam, RFID chips, HAARP, FreeGary.org, chemtrails, US military weapons testing that reportedly caused earthquakes in underdeveloped countries, the Philadelphia Experiment, Big Pharma, and anything smartphone related.

Wes grimaced. He knew too much and not because he chose to. The walls were thin and Mr. Young eased into his conspiracy groove at eleven at night. Things were bound to soak into Wes' mind as he slept.

A conspiracy theorist who makes his living from the technology that he doesn't trust. At least he's doing what he loves--even if it's weird. I'm sure our building is being watched by the NSA because of him. Gah! Now he's got me doing it!

Wes scolded himself as he noticed some cars on the side of the road. He coasted to a stop and jumped off next to the nearest car. Inside the rolled down window sat a young woman on her phone.

"Hey," he said as she typed away, presumably about what was happening, but she never brought her eyes up to look at him.

"Mhm?"

"What's going on?"

"Cow went nuts. Jumped in front of a car."

"Is the driver okay?"

"How would I know?" She typed furiously as her phone beeped and dinged from notifications. Wes pursed his lips together and walked his bike up further to the accident. Four other people held their phones out and circled around the slightly smoking car while the visibly shaken driver was being tended to by a woman who had him sitting in what Wes assumed was her own car.

Wes pulled out a bottled water from his pack and held it out to the shaking man as the woman rubbed his back over the blanket he had draped over him.

"Thank you," the rattled man said. Wes looked up and saw the others still taking pictures and video of what could only be the dead animal.

"You okay?"

The man nodded.

"What happened? Did it run across the road?" Wes looked around. There's no herd around.

"It was in the middle of the road and it wouldn't move so I honked at it." The man cracked the seal on the new bottle and took a few gulps of water. "It charged me!"

"And it died from that?" Wes looked back up at the wreck.

The man began to shake. "Oh my God, do you think I'll be arrested?!"

"Calm down," the woman soothed. "The cow shouldn't have been out. There's no free range laws here. It's an honest mistake."

"Maybe it was that Mad Cow disease," Wes proposed. "Might explain the news this morning."

"You mean the water?" Both men looked at the woman in confusion.

"What's wrong with the water?" Wes asked.

"The city issued a statement because people said it was tasting funny," she said. The shaken man looked Wes' gift with apprehension and handed the water back to him.

"It was an unopened bottle," Wes explained. "I don't drink the city water." But he took the water anyways and placed it in his bag.

"What did the city say?" The man asked the woman.

"They tested it and said there was nothing to be worried about."

But who really tested it and what for? How would we even know they tested it? And if there was something, would they even tell the truth? He sighed. Damn you, Mr. Young.

A thundering boom cracked in the air, shaking the car. Everyone covered their ears and sank to their heels.

"What the hell was that?!" The man asked the question loudly over the car alarms, no longer shaking from the accident as adrenaline overtook the shock. The woman, however, looked on the verge of tears.

Screams came from the wreck and the people who were taking pictures ran past the three. Wes stood up and saw the cow standing up, as well. It looked disoriented and seemed it was struggling to breathe.

The four others who ran, got in their cars and turned them on. The sound agitated the cow as it stumbled and swayed. The woman pushed the driver into the passenger side of her car and motioned to Wes to get in the back.

They watched the injured animal slowly make it's way past the car, blood dripping from its ears, nose, and mouth. The three breathed heavily as they watched it limp on a twisted leg until it was about ten feet behind the car where it collapsed.

"I think it's dead," Wes said after a while. "I think the sound startled it enough to wake up--if only for a moment."

"I have to go," the woman said. Wes looked back at her and could see she was terrified.

"Can you take me?" The man shakily asked her. "I don't think I can wait here for the police. Not with that thing."

It's as if he's more afraid of the cow than the sound.

The woman nodded slightly and turned to Wes. "Do you need a ride, too?"

"I have my bike." Wes pointed outside the safety of the vehicle. She nodded as she turned around and started her car. The three looked back at the dead animal to see if they woke it again but it remained on the ground.

The man turned around to the dashboard and turned on the radio.

"...a test. If this had been an actual emergency, this alert would have been followed by official information, news, or instructions. This is a test. If this had been an actual emergency, this alert would have been followed by official information, news, or instructions. This is a te--"

Wes reached forward and turned it off, seeing the woman grow increasingly more scared.

"We're supposed to believe nothing is wrong?" The man asked rhetorically.

"I have to get out of here," the woman repeated with a trembling voice.

"Where are you going to go?" Wes asked.

The two looked confused by his question as if he should have already known. Their faces took on a building panic as they realized they didn't know either.

"I guess going to work sounds silly," she said, "not with whatever is happening."

"Probably the police station," the man said. "They have to know something. They'll probably be looking for me after this anyways."

Wes nodded and exited the car. He bent down to the woman's window and rapped on it. After she rolled it down, he handed her the water bottle.

"Just in case." He tried to assure her but she wouldn't take it and eyed it warily. "Take it. I don't think the water is safe."

"Why would the manufactured stuff be any safer?" Wes was more than a little confused at her thought but she still took the bottle and looked up to him. "Be careful."

"You, too."

He watched them drive towards the city.

I never asked their names.

Without the hum of the vehicle, Wes could hear the unsettling silence again.

He picked his bike up and walked past the dead cow. He stopped to take a closer look, but didn't know what he should be looking for. If anyone stumbled on this scene, it would probably look extremely bizarre. After taking some mental pictures to google about later, Wes hopped on the bike and pedaled for his apartment, hoping someone knew something.

He neared his complex when another boom cracked through the silence. The terror of it caused Wes to fall from his bike and he scrambled to a decorative tree on the edge of the sidewalk. Screams came from nearly every direction as those still at home panicked at the reoccurring sound.

Wes pulled out his phone to call someone, anyone only to be met with a black screen. He pressed the power button.

Nothing.

This was charged. I charged this last night!

Leaving his bike on the street, he ran into the complex.

"Wes!" A voice cried out. He turned around to see the office manager, Ms. Garcia, with tears streaming down her face.

"What's wrong?" Stupid question.

Her sobs made her nearly unintelligible so she pointed into her apartment. Wes walked in and saw her Doberman on the kitchen floor bleeding out and a kitchen knife laid beside it. He reeled backwards into the wall and held his hand to his mouth. He looked over to the sobbing Ms. Garcia and saw her arms covered in bite marks. Instinctively, he grabbed for his phone only to stare at a black screen again.

"Do you have a landline?" He asked but she shook her head and sobbed. I can't call 911. "Come with me. I have a first aid kit."

He helped her to his apartment and sat her on his couch. As he grabbed the first aid kit, he found himself glad she kept sobbing because he didn't know what he'd do if she started asking questions.

Questions.

"I'll be right back," he said as he opened the kit to her.

"Please, don't leave me!" She screamed as she grabbed his shirt.

"I'll be right back, I promise!" He pried her fingers off of him and quickly dashed out and up the stairs to Mr. Young's door.

"Mr. Young!?" Wes called out as he rang the doorbell. "Mr. Young, I need to talk to you! Mr. Young!"

He knocked on the door and froze as the door was already opened. Wes' blood ran cold as he pushed it open a little more.

"Mr. Young?"

He walked inside the apartment and was shocked at what was living above him. It was the inside of a madman's mind. A sink filled with dirty dishes, uneaten food on the counter, and clothes littering the floor.

The only trope missing is--

Wes stepped on something hard and looked down to see the floor covered with small pushpins. He closed the door and turned around to see a wall covered with tiny holes and the remaining pins that held ripped paper edges and string. No information remained of whatever theory the crackpot had been working on except for a small paper with the barely legible scribble:

'This is only a test.'

Wes realized he was shaking as the adrenaline wore off and the shock set in.

His voice trembled in fear as he asked the silence, "What the hell is happening?"

---fin---

A/N: Vote if you liked it (or more accurately, didn't like it) and comment what your conspiracy theory is about what happened.

I will add to this short story if this reaches 10 votes or 100 views.