Jane Caldwell eased her black sedan through the city streets, music playing softly, the hum of the engine blending with the chatter of honking cars and the occasional siren in the distance. Her phone buzzed insistently in her hand.
"Jane, honey, you're getting older, and we're worried," her mother said, the concern heavy in her voice. "Twenty-nine is no joke. You really should think about—"
"I know, I know," Jane interrupted, weaving through traffic. "Mom, I don't need a man in my life. I'm fine. I have everything I want."
Her father chuckled softly on the other line. "You've always been stubborn. But even the strongest can be alone too long."
"I'm not alone," she said sharply. "I have friends. I have influence. I have… everything."
The car in front of her braked suddenly. Jane slammed her own brakes, cursing under her breath.
"You okay, Jane?" her mother asked.
"I'm fine, just traffic," Jane said, more to calm herself than them.
But then it began.
The streetlights flickered violently. The music cut abruptly. Phones buzzed and died at once. Car engines stalled.
A few blocks ahead, Jane's eyes widened as a white SUV in the fast lane jerked violently and then… vanished. The car itself simply wasn't there anymore. A man who had been leaning out the window screaming one second was gone the next, leaving his seat empty, his cup of coffee frozen in mid-air.
Screams erupted all around. Horns blared. Cars swerved into each other, pedestrians ran screaming into the streets, some tripping over one another. Chaos exploded as the city's normal hum became pandemonium.
Jane's heart raced. She could see other drivers frozen, some reaching for their passengers, others clutching at the steering wheel in disbelief.
Parents searched for children, couples grasped hands, and in the center of it all, the sky seemed impossibly still, like it was holding its breath.
She tried to call her parents again.
Nothing. Signal lost. Calls failed.
Nearby, a man fell out of his car in mid-turn. Another car swerved, hitting a street lamp. The lamp stayed standing, but the driver — gone.
Children disappeared from sidewalks, leaving backpacks and shoes behind. People screamed into empty air.
Jane gripped her steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. "No… this isn't real. This… this can't be happening."
And then, over the screams, she heard it:
A sound from above. A deep, echoing trumpet. Not of this world. A vibration that shook glass, car metal, and bone alike. It penetrated her chest.
Memories she had long buried surfaced. Verses she barely remembered from childhood:
"For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet of God…" (1 Thessalonians 4:16)
"Two will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left." (Matthew 24:40)
Left…
Jane's chest tightened. She looked around at the chaos. People everywhere — crying, screaming, pointing to empty cars and empty sidewalks, panicked drivers colliding — all left behind, like she was seeing the world collapse in fast-forward.
And she… was still there.
Her disbelief felt like a weight crushing her. Church as a child, Sunday prayers, faint memories of sermons about salvation — it had all been meaningless to her.
"I… I don't believe…" she whispered, shaking, trying to convince herself. But the abandoned cars, the empty streets, the muffled cries of people searching for loved ones were louder than her denial.
Jane's eyes filled with tears as the reality hit her like a physical blow. The world had changed in an instant, and she was standing in the middle of it — alive, but alone, surrounded by a crowd of others left behind, screaming and running, their fear mirroring her own.
Everything she thought she understood about control, power, and life… shattered in a heartbeat.
"This… this isn't real," she gasped, her voice lost among the screams of the city.
But deep down, somewhere she could no longer ignore, she felt it: the beginning of the end.