Dust and ash; remnants of a world, now a distant dream. The dry dead remnants of a few trees laid spaced out in every direction, although only a dozen or so would be visible at once due to the low fog of ash. Salus readjusted the thin cloth he had adopted as a mask. He had been walking for the last week making decent time towards the colony of New York from Milwaukee; the last two days however he had found himself pushing through the northern foothills of the Appalachian mountains. 

"This used to be beautiful." he silently said, mumbling to himself as he occasionally did. He imagined the numerous pine and fir trees, and the mighty oaks that used to stand proud where now only a blanket of their remains covered the land. "To think we ever took your creations for granite Lord," Salus said giving a quick look towards the sky "perhaps now at the end of our existence we find our appreciation for what we no longer have in abundance." Saul thought of the few spots in the country that still carried life. His mind drifted from thoughts of an Oasis in Florida he had visited, a pine forest untouched by demons in the Minnesota territory, and a mountain path in the Rockies. "thank you God, for the blessing we still have." a feeling of joy washed through Salus and for a moment he forgot how tired his old joints were.

Salus jumped over an ash-blackened creek, pushing off the bank with his walking stick. He landed on the other side, throwing up a small cloud of ash up into the air as he landed. He inspected his feet. The cloth wrappings he employed as socks were turned black over the last few days of travel, and his leather sandals were beginning to adopt the color as well. No matter. He would arrive at his location within the next three of four days, he would pick up a new pair then if possible.

The silence of the day was broken by a long distressful call. Salus pulled back the large pointed hood of his cloak. The cry came again, louder, but shorter. "Elk" Salus guessed. It came from over a hill just in front of him. Salus crouched down as he ran up the hill, his steps muffled by the soft ground. At the crest of the hill he ducked behind a dry fallen tree trunk. Taking off his backpack to reduce his profile he peered over the trunk.

"Imps" Salus said quietly. Surrounding a large Elk were perhaps 5 or 6 imps. Salus inspected the creatures. Short in stature they were only about 3 feet tall, as tall as they came. Their red skin appeared a grey pink, made that way from the ash no doubt. They reminded Salus of winged baboons, if baboons had giant heads, no fur, horns, and a barbed tail.

The creatures, as odd as they were did not shock Salus as much as their prey. This forest had been dead a long time, he was nearly a day from any suitable habitat for the beast. "You've come a long way" Salus said as he pulled his rifle around to his front.

An imp lunged at the neck of the elk with fatal intent. His leap was met with an antler to the side of his head, and the creature was nocked to the side, red blood washing away ash from its temple. Salus shouldered his weapon and peered down the sights. The action wass less than 20 yards from him; an easy shot. He lined up the head of his target with the iron pin at the end of the barrel and squeezed the trigger.

The head of the imp snapped to the right, it was dead before it hit the ground. The others looked towards where the shot came from, and began running towards the shooter with hellish laughter. Salus slapped the bolt of his weapon upwards and drew it back, releasing the spent round into the air. The imps, half running, half hopping with their useless wings, made it another 6 yards before Salus had another bullet in the chamber. He lined up his shot, and another imp fell backwards, dead.

Salus reloaded quicker than before as he worked up a rhythm. Another imp fell prey to his marksmanship before they were close enough for Salus to put down his rifle. Leaning the weapon against the tree Salus abandoned the shoulder strap of the weapon, and reached for his walking stick. With his left hand he held the stick in place as he grabbed the top 8 inches with his right hand and pulled. Salus drew the straight blade from the staff and stood up. With his left thumb he drew an X across his face. "Alright God, guide my blade." he said, and calmly walked towards the remaining imps.

The day the demons came, it was as bright and sunny as ever. There was no warning, no apocalypse, and no horses on fire riding through the streets - just ugly, vicious monsters dragging the good and bad alike down to hell. They were dead by the time they reached Satan’s feet, and the sun had stopped shining.

Then came your loved ones rising from their graves, and eating you for supper. It was a cruel joke, something not even God could stop. It was a long way down in our fall from grace. No one was spared.

The children of Lucifer were strong, dangerous and rarely seen by man alike – if they lived to tell the tale. Nowhere was safe, humans took shelter in colonies, and the earth was taken hostage by the damned.

If anyone out there is reading this, I pray you live long enough to see the sun rise among the darkened clouds, and that God will spare your soul. Perhaps one day, there will be hope once again in this ruined world, and we can then call this place our home.

- Unknown







----------





“Elle!”

There was a moment of cursing and shouting before the girl even made eye contact with the owner of the voice. Her irritation was evident, which made the small boy all the more afraid. If there was someone more scary then Logan Blight, it would have had to have been his daughter.

“What?!” she screamed back. She was slumped over a large piece of rubble – no doubt the old remains of a building before Armageddon – and looked absolutely livid.

The boy – Aiden – noticed her rifle out and ready for a kill. He also noticed the impish demons up ahead, preying on a dead animal and eating its rotten remains. They were a great distance away, but Elle was known for her swift shooting and keen aim.

Aiden seemed to take a step back. “Y-your dad, he’s going nuts again!” he replied, fright evident in his voice.

Elle cursed under her breath. She could never get a damn break when it came to her old man. “Yeah, I’m coming…” she called back, a bit hesitantly.

The clouds were rolling in anyway. It seemed those imp demons didn’t like rain much, while other demons thrived for it. Elle didn’t care much – as long as they stayed the hell away from her.

Aiden trailed behind as Elle slung her rifle bag over her back and almost kicked down the door to her father steel shack. It wasn’t anything overly extravagant, but it was home nonetheless – a home she ran from whenever she could.

Well, crazy was an understatement.

Elle’s father was hunched over the little wooden table they used mainly as an ashtray. He was mumbling gibberish as he sipped on a bottle of gin – his last one by the looks of it.

“Daddy, have you been scaring the folks here again?” Elle’s tone was light, airy and caring. She was normally so demanding, but when it came to her father, her personality completely turned around.

Her fathers eyes, hallow and so broken looking, shifted to his daughter. Oh, it was painful watching her father reduce himself to nothing but a shell of the man he once was.

“They’re gonna’ take you, Elle… they’re gonna take ya’ like they took ya’ mother.” He laughed. “Nah, I wont let em’. They ain’t takin’ anyone else from ere’!” he screamed out as he grabbed his rifle, ready to shoot anything in sight.

Elle ran to her father and tried to grab the rifle away from him; afraid he’d either hurt himself or someone else. “Aiden, get the doctor!” she cried as she pushed her father back into his seat.

The boy nodded and raced out the door, trying to hold back his shock. Elle sighed.

“Daddy… you need sleep.”

“Nah, I need salvation… come on God, light up the sky’s ya’ lazy bastard!” His screaming seemed to just get louder and louder.

Elle touched her father’s cheek, eyes wide as she tried to reason with him. “Please, Dad, just listen to me.”

His dark eyes shifted to his daughter in a rapid motion. “Elle, they want ya’ with em’. They know… you see, they know.”

“Yeah, Dad…”

This wouldn’t be the first time he had ranted on about something like this to her. Her father would never know how much it hurt to see him live like this, drunk and afraid, although he’d never admit it.

He needed to know his daughter was just as afraid as he was of the world outside.

Ever since Lucifer's Armageddon, the world had been a somewhat dull and boring place to be a demon. Not that Ardat was complaining, it would be even worse to be in the fiery pits of hell, but still she longed for the days when humans walked freely among the earth and where hers to prey upon as she wished. As it was now, there were so few left, and all of them lived together that she couldn't infiltrate any place easily. The humans were smart and had discovered that most demons weren't at all hard to kill, or identify if the right objects where held. She was one of the ones that became ill whenever she came too close to a holy object. It was such an inconvenience to her nightmarish pastime. Occasionally she would stumble across the rare human in the wild and torture them for days on end with nightmares during all hours until they went insane and she ate their soul for dessert. An insane soul was so much tastier when she had watched the insanity take place. However, as things sat now she was without a victim and for a time being with a job.

She sat in one of the converted demon towns on what use to be earth. It was near midnight and all sorts of horrors were out to play. The bar she frequented was overtaken by one of the more intelligent of the demon race that choose to spend his time on earth. Very few of the higher ranking demons decided to stay in hell once Lucifer began his takeover. The base demons littered the floors and walls of hell making it even more of an unpleasant place to spend time. Ardat stared into her glass thinking on her troubles and tried to ignore the sounds of the demons eating away at a human carcass in the corner.

"How's business been Nightmare?" The bartender asked, whipping a scummy chipped glass. All the towels and classes were filthy. Demons, at least most demons, didn't care about cleanliness. And as they couldn't die from basic sickness or disease like the human race, it didn't much matter. Ardat just had extreamly high and somewhat prissy standards.

"Well, ya know, since its based on the ability to torture humans, not so great. The imps and other low demons devour them all before I can even start the process of my art." She scowled and spun on the metal stool, which squealed out from the sound of rubbing rust, the grinding sound of which made her scowl even more intense. Now she was facing a crumbling wall that opened into the street, the glass littered the floor and already plant life had begun to take hold in the cracks and earth. Ardat let out a sigh, the world just wasn't what it use to be. "Any news from the big guy down under?" She asked, of no one in particular. Lucifer didn't often send her notifications or updates, although at one time she thought of herself as a favorite she had long since believed she had fallen from his "good graces".

"None that we've heard, things have been fairly quiet around here." The bartender returned. There weren't many customers, when he had first opened he had been able to lure in the humans, but now... well lets just say the one rotting in the corner was a delicacy that had lasted three months and was about to expire to bone.

"What about the other soul eaters?" She mumbled, sure they were being sent all over the globe on wondrous adventures full of juicy souls. She slithered her body luxuriously across the counter, her near perfect caramel hair splaying over her arm. Why she even bothered anymore she had no idea, her seductive techniques had little sway over her fellow demons. But it had just been so long since she had truly felt appreciated! The bartender let out a half hear-ted admiring whistle. And she gave him a little half smile in response. What was that human phrase? 'It's the thought that counts?'. Ardat stood and stretched, walking out of the crumbling wall and turning down the dark street. The fact that the demon hadn't responded to her question about the soul eaters just confirmed her suspicions and she felt exceedingly depressed. There was an old human liquor store, just around the corner. She would stop by and stock up on sum gin and tonic before returning to her suite. One of the few places in town untouched by the demonic scourge.

Candela Helianthus

The sun shone through the small windows of the Underground; the New Orleans colony had adapted their society to the sewers. It may sound very disgusting and not a very nice place to live in, but when they haven’t been used in a very long time, and they are connected to every building or house in the city, you start to see the bright side of it. The men from each of the eight families had gone outside to hunt for food, leaving the women in charge of the little ones. Candy’s hair was pulled up into a neat ponytail; with the exception of a few lose locks of hair that fell into her face. She was currently sitting down in an empty seat near the kids’ bunk beds. Most of them were asleep, since it was just 6 o’clock in the morning. It was not a usual hour for the kids to be awake, but nevertheless Candy had offered to keep an eye on them for the morning and maybe entertain them for a while before the men came back with today’s food.

“Y’know Candy, you don’t have to watch the kids alone,” said a voice from behind her. Candy quickly stood up from her seat and spun around. She came face-to-face with none other than Gaspard Bianchezi; the only guy her age in the colony. He wasn’t hunting with the other men, because sadly, he was blind. When he was little he developed a chronic disease that would slowly deteriorate his sight, and by the time he was ten, he could barely see anymore. Candy placed a hand in her chest, right on top of her beating heart. “Jesus, Gaspar! You almost gave me a heart attack! And don’t talk so loudly; they’re still sleeping,” she said.

Candy sat back at the bench and scooted over so Gaspard could too. This had been both their schedules lately. They’d both watch the kids until they all woke up, listen to Candy tell them a new story, go help the woman wash the clothing, and then help make dinner and finally tuck each and every kid into their beds. Some people thought Gaspard should be left behind or killed, because he couldn’t see and that only made him a waste of space; but Candy strongly disagreed. He was great company and had many great abilities that outdid his lack of sight. “Has everything been alright with your parents lately?” Gaspard asked. Candy knew what he meant by that; lately, her parents had been fighting constantly, and now they even slept on different beds. She now had to share her small bed with her mother. “No. They keep fighting and fighting. They can’t seem to talk to each other without starting an unneeded argument. It’s like they’re teenagers again,” Candy replied. She would’ve said that everything was okay, and she didn’t want to explain the whole situation to Gaspard, but lying was a sin, and God would punish her for such a thing. She grabbed the necklace around her neck and rubbed the golden crucifix, chanting small prayers for their Colony’s good and thanked God about everything he had given her until that very day. She always did that in the moment she woke up, but apparently she had forgotten.

“Hey, Candy?” Gaspard asked.

“Yes?” she answered.

“Can you tell me a story?” Gaspard asked again. She knew he loved them, since he could not see with his eyes, but he could with his mind. He was one of the most creative people Candy knew, but she knew very little people. Her lips formed into a slight smile as Gaspard’s white eyes moved towards them as if he knew she was smiling. He slowly raised his hand, keeping his eyes on her lips and rubbed his thumb softly over them. Candy knew Gaspard felt something more than friendship towards her, but sadly she only saw him as a friend.

“Sometimes I wish I could see you,” Gaspard whispered.

Candy cleared her throat awkwardly, and moved her head away so he could not touch her anymore. She knew she was being a little cruel but, sending her most sincere apology to God, she shook her head and lowered her voice.

“I’m sorry Gaspard. I wish I could help you,” she said. In other words, she was telling him she did not felt the same. She knew he had understood her, because her expression turned into a slightly pained and angry one. He nodded and she took that as a sign to continue.
“Well, you still want me to tell you that story, or not?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood a little bit.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation.

And so Candy began telling him a new story, fresh from the depths of her mind.

Briathos had lead his three followers into a nest of lower demons. He had ash and bodies all around him, imps were more beasts then anything, and he could kill and banish them with little effort. He looked at the humans who had his favor at the moment; surprisingly all three of them were not hurt so maybe he wouldn’t have to go looking for a new human, and they all had body piles around them. He decided that enough playing around. He looked around for the big fish, with his human and angel eyes, then he saw it the hell beast, an alpha hell hound. The female kind, pregnant and about to have a whole pack, killing it would make it explode, and kill the humans, if not him too, but getting rid of it was no problem for him, he flew right above it grabbed it by the scruff and threw it back to hell. To humans it looked like a beast became flame and all that left was ash, but if they thought that creatures he banished were dead or were never going to return they were wrong. He had used it on a human once the body stayed on earth, the sprit it went to hell. The body lit up like there was a fire in it though, and ash had leaked out the mouth. He looked up waiting for direction, none of the others commanded him so he decided he would head east, New York, New Orleans, maybe Florida would be nice this time of year, and there would hopefully be a few demons he could kill or banish on his way.

Zalt Fox

In the midst of the darkness a small light shone, Zalt approached, unaware of what he was facing. Zalt someone said in a hushed tone, Come here child the unknown figure kept talking. On him Zalt had nothing, no weapons, but around him was only darkness and certain death. A pair of red eyes appeared in the darkness next to the dim light, and eventually an entire body sitting in-front of a fireplace on a throne. The desolate figure lifted its head, showing a pair of teeth and the brightest red eyes Zalt has ever seen, horns on its head and claws on its arms. The figure smiled, and spoke quietly with a slimy voice that digs into ones very soul, "Caper, welcome." Zalt was confused, how did this creature know his name? "Who are you?" Caper asked defensively, "Ha- why we've already met dear Caper, when I ripped the souls from your parents hearts. I'm Lucifer, pleasure.". Zalt was overcome with anger and hatred, in-front of him sat the face of evil, he only had to kill it and end it all. He couldn't think, goose bumps were all over his body, he was frozen. Scared perhaps? no not scared, he was terrified."Well, Lucifer..." Before Zalt could finish his sentence his grabbed a fiery log from the fireplace and lunged at Satan, the one being he despised the most. As the log flew down Lucifer vanished, the fire pit blackened, around him thousands of Red eyes, "Where are you?!" Zalt yelled as he flailed the log around, "Come get me" Lucifer said calmly. The next thing that happened was unbelievably mirthful, Zalt felt a breath on his shoulder, he turned and in-front of him stood Satan, smiling.

Zalt jumped and flailed his arms, around him was just grass, dying grass at most. No Lucifer in sight, he was just dreaming. Thank God he said under his breath. He stood up, his heart pounding from the nightmare. In a world with no sun, a world of peril and death nightmares were not uncommon. Zalt didn't like to settle down, he liked to move, always move, afraid of getting attachments and having his loved ones pulled from him once more. For that reason he always moved around. His next destination though was the New York colony, he had hoped to get some supplies before moving on. Zalt sat on the cold grass and placed his machete besides him, in this cruel world there were few things that were fortunate for humans. One of which was that Imps and Demons don't bother animals much, leaving game for humans. In the distance Zalt saw a deer pouncing around, he held his machete tightly, and ran at the deer.

It seemed like a mile when the deer stopped and turned the other way running towards Zalt, he took his chance, Zalt slashed at the deer and let out a deep breath. Food he thought to himself. Then it occurred to him, why would a Deer suddenly turn and run the other way, Zalt heard low growling, he lifted his head, in-front of him were 3 imps munching on a human corpse. He stepped back and placed one hand on his Pistol, with there pitch black eyes the imps were stalking Zalt, watching his every move. To them Zalt was just pray, something to hunt, and to eat after. One of the imps smiled and muttered something, at his command the imp on far left jumped at Zalt, but he was ready. Zalt pulled out his machete and slashed the Imps head clean off. "Come at me" the other imps were surprised but they wouldn't give up, they jumped together, slashing fiercely at every part of Zalts body. One after another slash hit the spot, Zalt retaliated by slashing at the two Imps, eventually he hit one of them and cut his chest, the Imp dropped dead. The other Imp wouldn't give up, he was quicker, he avoided most of Zalts attacks and caught him in the leg, eventually Zalt got annoyed and pulled out his pistol and shot the Imp in the head, he flew 5 feet back and all three imps turned to ash.

Zalt was so full of adrenaline that he didn't notice the cuts on his body, once he came down the pain came. Two cuts on the chest and one deep on on the leg, Zalt screamed in pain, he felt as if his leg had been cut off. He used his knife to cut the deers skin off and bandaged himself, he knew he had to get to New york before he bled out, so he ripped meat off the deer and stuffed it in his beg, after that he started making his way to New York which wasn't too far, moaning in pain from every step he took.

Lillith had two homes, one on the planet earth and one in the realm of hell. Both homes had their particular rooms set aside for specific purposes. Her home in hell held only one room that was her own. It would be odd to think of a seven hundred and some odd year old demon still living "at home" but Lil did, she loved... or felt as strongly as one demon could about another, her father dearly and held all of his ideals as absolute. His most frequent plot had been taking over the human realm of earth and it turned from a sort of paradise away from hell to, well, nearly another version of it. Lil didn't think that had been her father's original intention, after all herself and many other high level demons such as soul suckers and incubus and the succubus had blended in among the humans, causing just enough chaos to please their dark lord, but not too much to make the human population suspicious. She herself had sent her father thousands of fresh souls, corrupt from their dealings with herself. But earth had fallen, the initial charge was uncoordinated and, well, a massacre although they high demons knew it would have to be in order to catch all the angles off guard. Somehow the imps and other scourge of hell had passed through the gates and the body total went even further down than originally intended. The humans began breaking off into colonies of survivors, and while the imps still found a random body to chew on, several of the more intelligent of the demonic race were finding it hard to find souls to corrupt or drain.

Lil sat in her first home of hell, thinking about all of this while she stared into her reflection in a cracked and broken mirror. The temperature in hell was nearly unbearable, especially after having spent so many years among the living, but she slowly adjusting to the never ending heat wave. She could hear the screams in the distance from the souls that wondered too far out of the 'safe zone' and were consumed by some of the more savage of beasts. Hell had its many surprises. Grimacing to herself at her thoughts, Lillith turned from the mirror. Her short blonde hair, curled in a fashionable 'Madonna' sort of style, moved with her head and her bright red lips pursed. It had been a while since her father had sent out orders. Last she heard, she was to cleanse the earth. Oh yes, her father being Satan. Lillith was the middle of three children born of Lucifer's 'Flesh and Blood' if you could count demons as such. He was a busy devil these days, going here and there, causing chaos and smoothing over 'wrinkles' as Lil referred to them. She stood up from her vanity and stretched, the sheer fabric of her robe clinging to every curve, sticking her lips out in a pout. Lil was bored, she would be out challenging some of the lower beasts to a fight, but that pastime had been overused a long time ago. The siege had been going on for thirty years and she was growing restless. It was so much more fun when the humans thought they were in charge of their souls.

Lil strode over to her armoire and pulled a black leather dress out, but quickly tossed it to the side, too.... well as the humans would have said, slutty. She browsed through her closet for a couple more minutes, making a mess of fabric the singed as it touched the unbearably hot stone floor making the demon grimace. She would have to get them replaced... somehow. Finally she found the perfect outfit. A pair of dark jeans, a leather jacket and a v-cut t-shirt, all of which fit like a glove, paired with knee high leather booted heels and some silver jewelry. Well, her outfit was complete, much more 'bad ass' than she felt. For several years now she felt a sort of pull to random places in the human realm and she couldn't explain why. Whenever she gave into her curiosity and took the time to travel to the place she felt a pull from there would be nothing there. The entire thing puzzled her exceedingly and she was once again feeling that irritatingly familiar pull to what use to be New York city. "New York, huh?" She said, smiling over at her reflection with a wicked sort of grin, she was sure what use to once be one of the largest and most populated of the human cities would still have plenty of souls ripe for the taking. It would be worth it, to visit at least, she hadn't been to New York in ages. The wicked smile still plastered to her face, Lil walked out of her bedroom and headed down towards one of the doorways that connected hell to earth.

Leviathan

The tower clock struck three times. The valley was calm and dark, no birds sang, not a breeze floated across the walls of Leviathan's castle, hidden who knows where on Earth, only nearby spruces groaned his favorite melody. He was the youngest of Lucifer‘s children and he was the one that once had ‚brought the light‘ to Earth, guiding mankind out of Christian slavery into a renaissance of wisdom and knowledge, but only because the Christian tyranny had become useless in their purpose of collecting souls. People were turning away from it, they needed something to turn to, something, that promised salvation and would equally transform some of them into liars, killers and oppressors.
Leviathan sat in a big red comfy chair in his calm little library overflowing with books, was looking out of the window and sighed. No sunshine……well, we can change that. And he created on the surface of his windows the prettiest sunset, no one has ever seen.
A slight melancholy rose up. How he would have liked so much to walk again in the streets of Paris, sit in one of those lovely cafes, drinking some good old Chardonnay while reflecting about the temptation of an rising actress with an innocent, but so corruptible heart and a weakness for luxury of all kinds. All of it was gone, the romantic bridges now looked like skeletons from giant monsters, the Notre Dame, that once had stood so proudly surrounded by a vast blue sky was now nothing but a tortured little worm, waiting for the coup de grâce. Heart of France, heart of Italy, heart of Russia, all gone.
Heart and art are so close to each other, not only as words. Now, that the world has lost it‘s art, what is there to like about. Only cattle breeders and huntsmen. The wild folks of the north had had more to offer. That was, of course before he came into existence, he‘d only seen their craftsmanship in museums.
Anyway, he took a sip of his big milky coffee and glanced out of the window which was glowing with artificiality. He shook off his regret. Who knows, what a good cleansing will bring. So many possibilities. Nothing really exiting was happening yet, maybe humanity just needed a little push. Someone, that told them, that what they called god needed this and that, gold, pyramids or splendid ceremonies with sacrifices, virgins dressed with luxurious silky dresses and beautifully crafted silver brooches. Of course, they needed to believe it worked. A few lower demons would have to die, but that would absolutely be worth it. No one had ever interfered, when Leviathan had created his empires.
Where should I start? New York has nothing to offer anymore, all those wicked ruins, that is too rich already, no room for creativity.
Then it struck him: He had just produced one of his famous inspirations. It was like giving birth, sadly there was no one he could put it into. His pet/slave Annika was too tired from crawling on his polar bear carpet to receive it. I hate it when that happens. He had to put it upon himself, which meant that he got overrun by such a powerful motivation that it drove him out of his chair through his kitschy window into the grey, that was already getting darker. Yes! New Orleans! He thought, while flying past twisted trees and mountains. It‘ll be marvelous, the new Venice! The glorious city of the dark times, the jewel of the South, victorious and blossoming! Father will be so proud, so many souls will be collected for an endless, glorious feast in hell!

A howl was heard in the distance, Zalt was alert, he was ready to kill anything that stood in his way. Every step sent a shuttering jolt of pain through his body, he was badly bruised and cut, his leg was slowly bleeding through the deer hide, he didn't have much time. A mile or two ahead you could see New York, what a beauty it used to be. Now all that remains are wrecked sky scrapers, Zalt's father used to tell him about a time when the building in the city would reach the sky, and stand tall above the rest, but now all that is gone. The New York colony was one of the largest, most of the city is quarantined and sealed inside out, guards and officers, a few apartment buildings still stand, that's where the colony is, and that's where he would get treatment. Every colony had a different currency, some trading some their own gold, Zalt had no idea what it was in New York but he was sure they wouldn't kick him away. After about half a mile Zalt fell to his knees, he couldn't walk, he in immense pain. Off in the distance he saw a minor settlement, the kinds that are constantly terrorized by imps and other demons, the kind that is made up of few families, trying to become a colony. Although they don't usually last long, they are organized non the less. Feeling pain Zalt starting walking towards it, there was a low fence, which seemed to be electrified, and on the out side... a guard. The guard noticed Zalt and quickly rushed to help, just in time actually because Zalt passed out. The next time he woke up he was in a room with boarded windows and a nurse taking care of his leg. "Don't move a lot" she instructed and Zalt followed. She hands him what looks like a cigarette, but it wasn't, it was medicinal weed. "Were all out of morphine, we should have some by tomorrow though, Rick and a few others will go to city soon. You just rest" Zalt placed the weed close to his lips and inhaled, he was still in pain but it did sooth him, he placed it on a counter besides him. "Thank's, but i really have to get to the City, i don't plan on staying". The nurse turns "Well before you do that our Mayor wants a word" she turns around and opens a door, a big bulky man steps in the room. "Uh he's awake. Those are some really deep wounds, lucky for you Berta here is the best on this coast!" the nurse seemed to blush and returned to her work.

The man spoke in a somewhat disturbed voice, "Now would you be kind enough to tell me what happened?" Zalt has a slight grin on his face, the stitches and the weed soothed the pain, "Imps, three for that matter." The mayor takes out a gun from his pocket and drops 5 bullets in his palm, "This is your gun, 5 bullets, this gun carries six which means you only shot one and you did the rest with that machete we found. Short on ammo?" Zalt felt ashamed, he only had 6 bullets left and imps are far too fast to beat in melee combat, hence all the injuries. "Yeah well, I've been running short, I was on my way to the city, i didn't want to waste bullets." The mayor loads Zalt's gun and throws it back, "Your a good fighter, taking on two with one single machete. On that note i would like to thank you, those three imps you encountered weren't just normal Imps, there were stronger, faster, and very hard to kill, they have been harassing us for 3 weeks now, we did manage to kill off 2 of them, but you killed the rest." He walks closer and extands his arm, "For that, consider this treatment paid for, and you may travel with our group to the city." Zalt shakes his arm and sits up. "Thank you" he says in a hushed tone. "See ya around" he said as he walked out the Nursery door with all his equipment ready to go.

The fire danced and crackled, gently blowing embers into the midnight skies. Salus sat silently near the flames slowly stroking his bronze beard deep in thought. Over the fire, impaled on his sword, rested four large haunches of elk meat, slowly being dehydrated.

Salus let his hand wander from his chin to grab onto his walking stick. He pushed a piece of wood closer into the flames, releasing a brief dragons breath of embers in front of him. The walking stick went back to its resting place and Salus's hands found a place in the air in front of the orange glow.

"Thank you." Salus whispered to God. "heh, I can't tell you how long it's been since I've had good elk." He smiled as he thought of the game he would soon be consuming. "But I'm sure you know anyway."

Salus looked over his shoulder. Six graves were lined up behind him where he had buried the hornless bodies of the imps. It's not like Salus was showing respect to the beasts. He just knew the nutrients of their decaying bodies would do nothing above the layer of ash. Imps were not inherently evil, Salus wasn't even sure if they even answered to Satan, they were just beasts, twisted by hell. Either way, their horns could be grounded up into a powder used to make some of the quietest firing gunpowder he had come across.

"Never been to New York after rapture." Salus thought out loud. 'it was quite the lively city before though.' he continued in his mind. 'I just hope it's better than the Milwaukee colonies... Some real brutal characters there, that's for sure.' Salus thought back to a particularly short tempered trader who refused to sell him food because he was 'nothing but a stingy old man.' Salus didn't blame the man for wanting no less than 10 bullets, but that didn't change that Salus couldn't spare that many.

A stick in the fire burned down and broke in half, causing the fire to fall an inch or two. Salus adorned his wide hood over his head to shield from the coolness creeping behind him. He reached over to his left, grabbed his pack, and placed it behind his back so that he could rest his weary muscles from the days travels. From a side pocket he produced two leather bound books, void of labeling, and a short pencil.

He opened the first one, a thick tattered tome, to a particular page somewhere short of the middle, and rested the book on the left of his lap. The second he opened towards the end and began writing with the pencil, using his right knee as a hard surface.

"Chapter 22. One." Salus mumbled aloud as he transcribed. "A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver and gold." Salus adjusted his grip on the pencil, and moved the boom on his knee. "The rich and poor have this in common-" Salus trailed off in his mind. He would rest his body tonight, however his mind would find no rest in this wasteland.

As far as Mephisto was concerned, his father was dead, and in his stead was some impatient idiot prancing about and seemingly pretending, yes, pretending, that this was a good idea. And Lucifer help Mephisto if the madman wasn't pretending, if he was truly unaware of what a siege meant, because that in turn meant Mephisto had overestimated the demon's capabilities.

Sieges killed morale and destroyed any advantage an invigorated army would present for them. Why his father would ever commence Armageddon without a coordinated plan for actually finishing the war was beyond Mephisto. Why his father even began Armageddon without consulting Mephisto was an anomaly in itself. Now, look what his father did.

Earth was nothing more than a barren wasteland losing itself to the wind. A pity. Although deplorable humans crawled its face, the earth itself wasn't half-bad. They could have taken it and destroyed those wretched angels in a snap, if only Satan had consulted Mephisto. The humans wouldn't have known a thing. But no, they had to follow Satan's orders.

Mephisto would take care of that. It wouldn't be long until the soldiers turned restless enough to rebel against his father. That, Mephisto thought, was one of the unfortunate effects of a siege.

The crown prince stepped onto a collapsed building half-buried in the sand. In the distance, an imp gnawed on dry human bones. Wonderful.

His father was getting old, and no longer commanded an army the way he used to, in Mephisto's opinion. It was time, perhaps, for change. As far as Mephisto knew, the whispers of chaos had already begun among the lower ranks. They were hungry; they hadn't had souls to feed on for nearly fifteen years, but the lord - ah yes, Satan? It was rumored Satan had been enjoying his fill of those wonderful human delicacies, seemingly unaware of the effect the siege was having on his men.

Mephisto himself abstained from feasting on the choicer souls - the general who sympathized with his men. If his personal army didn't eat, then Mephisto would have none of it. (It was poor fare anyway; what was considered an unsavory soul in the past was now a clamored-for delicacy. Mephisto would rather starve than reduce himself to sampling filth.) It worked - his personal army was terribly loyal to Mephisto now, more loyal than they ever were to Satan.

Unfortunately, they were about as weak as they were loyal, and nowhere as powerful as before.

If the angels stormed down while the men felt this way, they would lose everything. Mephisto hissed. The imp in the distance yelped, covering his head with his hands and shivering, muttering apologies all around. He peered at Mephisto, quivered, and fled for his life, yelling as he went. More imps emerged from the rubble, scrambling away in a puff of limestone smoke.

He'd seek salvation before he let Satan lose the empire that so rightfully belonged to Mephisto. Something had to be done. Perhaps he could speak to Marbles about this. Marbles would understand. Marbles always understood.

Alternatively, he could attempt to pull his siblings' strings - particularly Lil's. As much as he loved his sister, she was disgustingly loyal to their father. Marbles could be brought over to understand; Lil was more difficult. She might even report Mephisto's plans.

In which case it would be better to have them play along while leading them to think something else. Hrm. Mephisto loathed the idea of lying to Marbles, but if Lil was to be kept on his side...

Confound all of this. Mephisto swore and kicked a building's steel frame. It flew away from him with a groan, landing further down the wasteland.

Whatever he was going to tell them, he was going to need to meet his siblings, now. Anything to kill this siege. He couldn't stand it anymore.

An hour later, he left messages throughout hell for his siblings -

Meet me in the Vatican.

Whether they came or not, only time would tell. He'd be waiting, though.

Elle

Elle tucked her father into bed, smiling as she straightened out his tattered old sheets. It was the only bed they had in the tin shed her father had built many years ago. Although it was a rusty old army cot that seemed to be falling apart, Elle found sleeping in it to be heaven compared to the little two-seater table covered in cigarette butts. Logan would always hassle her into sleeping on it, himself opting with passing out on the table as he drank his whisky or worked on a new project.

The colonies only doctor stood off to the side, carefully observing the attentive young woman. Elle knew what he was going to say – he always said the same thing – and she would always retaliate with the same reply.

“You’re not taking him, Charlie.”

Charles Ragan’s eyebrows furrowed. She knew him to well; after all, he was the same doctor who had treated her as a little girl after the attack. No one in the colony spoke of what happened that day, but she knew the man had his suspicions. After all, it was no secrete Logan Blight was bat-shit crazy the day he brought his daughter to Charles, but they didn’t know the kind and considerate man he was behind those hallow eyes of his.

“He needs twenty-four-seven supervision, Skye. Who knows what he could do to someone if he goes into one of his delusions. I have no more sedatives left – whatever we managed to scavenge at the old hospital has long since dried up.” Charles folded his arms and let the girl weigh up her options. “There’s nothing more I can do for him, sweetie…”

Elle winced. Not many people called her by her first name, and when they did, it sounded foreign to her. No one had called her by that name since… well, not since her mother was alive. She was pretty sure her father had forgotten her real name. She supposed it was a better alternative to all the mean names she was called when she was a child. Not many of the older kids really took well to new faces back then, and would taunt her unmercifully. However, a good kick in the teeth soon taught them a hard lesson – the lesson being that Charlie could indeed patch up any wound, but replacing chipped teeth was not his forte.

“Charlie…” she said his name so nonchalantly it sent a cold shiver down the doctor’s spine. He didn’t like where this was going.

Her stark green eyes held him in place. “What happened the day my father found you?” she asked.

Charlie frowned. That was something she had asked once before, but never pushed for an answer. “You were brought to me with a bad wound. Logan told me you were attacked by a demon. I was sure anyone with an injury like that would have been dragged down to hell like-“ he stopped himself before he finished that sentence.

Elle noticed how he chopped his sentence and frowned. “Like my mother…?”

Charles looked down. “Like all the righteous caught in this war. Your mother was a casualty, and I’m sorry.”

“Whatever you say, Doc…” Elle let out a snarky little laugh before heading over to the old icebox her father had found years prior. There was no ice in it, but it was good for cupboard space.

As she knelt down to pull out whatever was left of their food supplements, Elle suddenly froze, hearing the sounds of distant howling. Her head would have snapped clean off with the way she turned to look at the Doctor. His expression seemed to only enhance her unease.

“Hellhounds… this far out?” he muttered.

Their colony was relatively nameless. It was in the dead center of what used to be New York, and the only demons that ventured this far into the destroyed city were imps and scavengers. In all the years they had settled, Hellhounds had never been within miles of them. They stuck to the more rural areas; there was no food here, and as far as they were concerned, no humans for slaying.

As Charles and Elle ventured to the door of the shed, it was all to clear how much trouble they were in.

In the distance, running towards them, were giant black dogs – horrifying beasts trampling and rampaging right towards their homeland. Although quite a distance away, with their size, it wouldn’t be much longer before the bloodshed ensued. The howls only intensified the closer they came.

Elle stood stock still, frozen in place by complete and utter fear. They were up shit-creek without a paddle right at that very moment, and all Elle could manage to whisper was, “We’re all dead…”

Death would come as blessing once the hounds were through with them.

Her thoughts rang out, to no one in particular – maybe God, maybe hoping for some sort of miracle – but whoever she was calling, she was desperate for some sort of salvation from this living nightmare. ’Help us!’



Amaron

Ugh, he may as well have been back in hell. The world used to be a fun place to venture through. The souls were tastier as well. It seemed a happy human brought out the best in their spirit, which is why eating the soul from a human now was as much a chore now as it was a way of staying alive. The humans were miserable, sad, depressed and tasted absolutely foul as he drew his victim’s soul into him. They had lost their will to live, their faith in God, and that unique drive they seemed to have when it came to life and all that was in it was gone. Children didn’t appease him, and males these days seemed to have a darkness to them that tasted like some sort of imp. It made his tongue seize up just thinking about it.

However, the women were harder to come across. They were usually tucked away, safe and sound. It was hard to find a stray human woman out on her own – it was even harder to get to a woman without the human males coming at him with crosses, holy water and a bible. It was quite comical at times, but after he had killed his attackers it was up to him to take care of the mess he left in his wake. He just couldn’t help himself. He was hungry, and hadn’t had a decent meal in months now. It was as if every pathetic bit of life in this desolate realm had just up and high-tailed it to some sort of sanctuary.

Amaron was not pleased. Not at all. Oh how he longed for the way it was before the reaping of Christ. It was like an all you could eat buffet everyday for Satan sakes! Then all the humans were either dragged down to hell, ripped apart by the hellhounds and every other angry monster, or in hiding. It was unfair!

Lucifer himself was getting lazy. All these humans in hiding and he couldn’t even find them. What ever happened to the old days, where a demon would sense out the life force of these pathetic humans, where they could harvest the sins of those who felt they were under God’s law? The good times were gone and now they lay to waste, eating scraps and savoring what little they could. The war had ended before it even begun, and what fun was it playing hide and seek when the game went on for more then three decades!?

Amaron sighed heavily. “I haven’t been to New York in quite some time… New Orleans seemed to have a larger variety, however,” he mumbled.

Heh, it was quite sad, really. Once upon a decade ago, he had the choice of hundreds… if not thousands of locations to chose from when it came to picking out a good meal – or even a bit of fun. It was odd, a demon – succubus – complaining about the downfall of humanity. But anyone would have agreed, it was boring! So very boring! He couldn’t fathom another moment of this deplorable life.

“I suppose things could be worse,” he muttered to himself, “I could be an imp…”

His laugher could be heard from miles away as he almost doubled over in pure amusement. The beautiful succubus Amaron, an imp? Oh but he would be a sexy imp, he was sure of it.

Letting out one last laugh, he made up his mind. New Orleans it was, until he found food or got a job from the big boy down under, he would lurk around and hopefully find himself in a lucky feeding frenzy.

He could only hope.

Briathos and his followers were heading east, his three followers had learned by now that he didn’t care for them as people only as weapons. The one that had been there longest called himself Pete and had scars all over his body, from the times he fought against hordes of minor demons. He had lost friends who had followed the angel, and it wasn’t the fights against regular demons that usually killed them, it was the over flowing numbers of minor demons that they regularly fought, destroying the hives of imps and their like. The other two had lasted a year with him so far, Monica and Jay were twins and while he was good hand to hand, the twins were great with their guns, each dual welded Apache revolvers and Monica carried a hunting rifle. Not that if you got wounded, Briathos wouldn’t heal you, but his body was what happened when he healed you, lots and lots of scaring. None of the three were totally religious but they knew enough, that he would not of chosen them if he believed they were not good people. At least he took care of the, giving them bullets, healing wounds, and making them better than regular humans.

Briathos was going east like the humans because they were more likely to run into a demon that way, also the humans got really dizzy and it tired him a little. Suddenly he heard a message, there was a top priority mission and it was just his style, kill some hell-hounds and protect one of the three. He turned to the humans and said “Hold on, we’re traveling”, the next second they were in front of the girl. The humans took a second to regain their balance and be ready to fight, in that second he had taken his angelic form and pulled out his heavenly sword. He charged and the two of them followed, the female was lining up her shot. He stabbed one of the hounds, while grabbing another, the three humans had killed one each in that time. He was ripping them apart or sending them back to hell, when he heard a scream that was cut off suddenly, he felt some of his strength return, he would have to find a new one weapon. He looked through his angel eyes for an alpha or a demon that could be controlling them but it looked like it had escaped, or had been killed already. He turned to look at the twenty bodies of hell hounds on the ground, in hell there must be ten or fifteen hell-hounds that arrived just now. The female follower was holding his newest deceased follower; his side had a hellhound jaw size hole in it, the others had been lucky a few burns, a scratch from a claw nothing he couldn’t heal. He turned to the girl, one of the three blessed ones and changed his voice so the girl wouldn’t get a headache when he talked. “Girl, be glad that my bosses thought someone here was important enough for me to come. Otherwise you and anyone here would probably be dead right now. I had to transport here and that impacted my followers fighting skills, I lost one of the them.” He took his mortal form “Tonight we will stay please feed these two, and if you have a cemetery then these two will probably want you to bury the dead one. If you could also allow them to sleep here tonight we will leave in the morning. If you need payment I can heal some of your people or give you bullets, but if you have someone who can fight and wouldn’t mind traveling and probably dying in a fight, I would like to replace my follower. I will return tomorrow morning, I’m going to see if there are any demons in the area.”

Candela Helianthus

It was late afternoon, and the men hadn’t yet arrived from their hunting trip. That had all the women and the kids on edge. What if they never returned? What if they were captured by demons? Or worse, dragged to hell? At the moment, several women, along with Candy, had joined in the old St. Louis Cathedral, which was almost on the verge of crumbling down, to pray to God for the health and safe return of their men. Without them, they’d be lost.

“Our father, who art in heaven hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” They all prayed. Candela had her head bowed, but she was at the very back of the small crowd; her mother standing about two feet from her. But they seemed too distracted, and it was the perfect opportunity to escape and try to find their colony’s men.

She quietly took a couple of steps backwards, but a hand grabbed her wrist before she could get any further. “What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” Her mother whispered, glaring at her daughter through her eyelashes, because she was still bowing her head. “I- I’m going to the bathroom…?” Candy stated, but it sounded much more like a question than a statement. Fortunately her mother seemed to believe her, and nodded in agreement, “Just don’t take too long, Candy.”

She let out a sigh of relief, and made her way out of the church without anybody noticing. Now, she was in plain sight outside the building, and any demon out there could see her. It was up to her to find out what happened to her father, and the other men, and why hadn’t they come back. She straightened her shoulders and looked around carefully, going down the concrete steps and into the streets.

Lil was about to step through the door that led from hell to New York city. The portal use to open upon the top of the empire state building where her father had held a grand office for his 'human' dealings, but now it simply opened onto air, the tower long since crumbled by the power struggle. Lil didn't mind though, she loved the feeling of just floating in mid air and when walking through the portal was the only time she was able to do it. Something about the way the portal was structured allowed it. She had never really been one to pay attention to those type of things though or the hows and whys of an object. She simply enjoyed it for the simplistic beauty it had.

Lil was about to step through the door to New York when a message arrived from her eldest brother. "Bloody Hell" she murmured under her breath with a smile on her face at the phrase, "what does he want now?" She pulled the scrap of flaming paper that had appeared in front of her face from the air and read it irritatingly. He wanted to meet in the Vatican, the portal to which was all the way in the opposite direction from the way she had been walking. Sure she could find a easier way to travel through hell, but she found when transporting herself by other methods the imps and other lowlifes grabbed at her as she passed. "What in blazes is he up to now?" She said out-loud, getting strange looks from a couple of middle class demons nearby. Damn. Well if she was going to be going to the Vatican her current outfit would do no good at all. No she needed something more, demure and white. Ever one for theaters was Lil.

Cursing her eldest brother under her breath all the way to her room and while throwing her clothing all over the room again, it took about a half hour to settle on the outfit she would wear in Rome. White Capri's with a baby pink tank top covered by a white leather jacket and white gladiator sandals. Now this was an outfit for the Vatican. She brushed her hair out again and looked satisfied at her reflection in the mirror. Yes, this was indeed how one dressed when entering the "holy" house of god. Smirking to herself, lil walked out her bedroom and headed in the opposite direction where the portal to the Vatican was located.

Sooner than she thought she reached the door. Well, it was now or never, although why she decided to meet with her older brother in the first place was beyond her. Being around him always made her second guess herself even more than she usually did. He just had the same magnetic aura about him that their father had. Shaking her head and taking a deep breath she walked through the portal and found herself in the middle of the deserted Vatican courtyard.