Calm as the river running nearby...

Still as the trees all around...

Off in the distance a bird chirps a tune...

Nearby a squirrel hopped from one branch to another...

Nothing else permeated the air but nature itself...

Good...

Up ahead an Elk was searching for food. The creature had no idea it would too be sustenance, sooner than later. On a tree branch high up above, an apex predator had found the prey it had been tracking for a while now. Pointing the muzzle down at the clearing below he locked in on the unsuspecting animal, steadied his heartbeat and...

POW!

Birds flew off in every direction from the gunshot. Blood splattered on the tree next to it, but the elk was downed in one blow. With care, not grace, the predator leaped down to the forest floor, a grin hidden behind his mask. Just by the size of the beast alone he could tell he was in for a treat. Maybe this one would last longer than four days, so he hoped.

The day moved on...

Home, what he called it, was waiting for him...

An abandoned concrete structure sat out in the middle of the forest. Long rusted doors stayed open, welcoming anybody on first glance. What the unsuspecting eye could not see was the string that stretched from one side of the frame to the other. The owner of the wonderful home pulled a wagon behind him, up to the doors and stopped. Abandoning his kill he approached the doors with a branch in hand and peeked inside. Traps, similar to this, are easy to make if you have the right tools, they are even better when you build an off switch. With enough pressure applied the string fell to the ground, giving just enough slack for anybody to walk over it.

Inside the empty halls of the building the creaking of the wagon wheels echoed. Crates lay neatly stacked to each side to give the appearance of organization, but their placement had some other purpose. With the wagon in tow he treaded on down a corridor, paint corroded and aged but still laminating the walls in a language he could not understand. History was displayed all down the walk. Faded pictures of strict looking figures with buttons and medals led towards a set of solid steel doors. On the wall at the end a keypad sat next to one of the large hinges providing some light.

Calloused fingers danced across the keypad, bouncing little noises all over the walls around him. Better was the sound that came from the seals coming loose on the doors. Metal grinding against metal barraged his ears with one single message, he was safe. Outside the confines of the bunker, survival was not a guarentee. Many of the still and lifeless corpses he found in long burned out vehicles easily told him their grim ends. Unlike the inside of the bunker which was without occupation of the uniformed dead.

Slamming his fist against the red button just inside the doors, the sealing process began. Towing his kill inside a room off to his right he began the slow and steady process of stripping the animal of its skin. First came the gloves he made from another hunt, then came the knife he found sealed away in the bunker. A tool like this was made to cut and the thought had never crossed his mind who or what exactly, it just got the job done.

When and if he didn't use any of the leather he went as far as he could and tossed it. Maybe something or someone else would have a use for it. Taking his time he carefully cut away anything he wanted and everything he could do without. Containers sat all over the nearby counters, all made out of clear substances. Once everything was divvied up, nothing was left out to spoil and waste so he threw it in a room where the temperature was so low ice formed on the walls.

He did this several times a week, using the same tools, wearing the same gear. Never had it crossed his mind how different this was to most others like him, then again he had not seen another like him in years. Leaning back in a chair he found elsewhere in the bunker, he embraced the opportunity to breathe. Some would consider it a simple privilege to do such an act, but without those steel doors, the same fate that befell his home would finally come for him too.

12 years ago...

The sun reigned over a wooded valley. During the day there was peace, but at night the moon would have its say. That was the reason why the guards stayed alert when the Lights went out, no one knew when they were going to get another visit from the other occupants, the local wildlife. In such a lovely place quiet covered the valley with the exception of the woodworkers, the farmers, and maybe some hunters seeking wild game, but other sounds filled the valley one day.

Not too long after the moon came out, so did the silent blades of the night. What the guards thought were demons came scrambling up to the gate on all fours. Alarms sounded and the town woke from its slumber. Everybody stood outside their doors, weapons in hand. Some had the luxury of golden age weapons while the rest had makeshift firearms crafted by the gunsmith. The gates, made of wood, could do no more to hold back the fiery plasma bolts hitting them and gave way. The chief of the village stood tall against the intruders, even though the leader stood about three feet taller than him.

"Who are you, and why have you disturbed our peaceful settlement?" The older man demanded.

Four glowing eyes scanned over the populace gathered around him and laughed, "Peacccccccceful?" It dragged out. "I see many warriors in front of me, ready to die for their home. These people are far from peace loving. Now, I would suggest you lower your weapons, lest I start taking with my gun."

The elder slung his rifle off his back and signaled for the other villagers to do the same thing. Fear remained in the hearts of the guards, who still had their weapons ready for anything. Tensions down, the monster ordered his followers to do the same, silence filled the air.

"My name is Gralorik, captain from House Devils. From schematics we found in a nearby bunker there is an important cache of technology under this...village. Hmm, just from looking at your villagers, I believe you've already found it for me."

The elder tensed, "We only found weapons, what technology do you speak of?"

Taking a few steps closer to the elder the captain looked down at the man who maybe thought he was his equal. "Cloaking technology, the kind used to hide soldiers like the ones we found out in the woods."

Out from behind his massive form a few creatures, similar but with less arms dragged unmoving figures behind them. People all around shrieked in terror when they were thrown before their feet. Gralorik laughed, "You all cry out in fear as if they are dead, have no fear, they are. My crew found them and took their cloaks. Funny, your elder just told me there were only weapons, not technology."

All around the captain the weapons were charged. The guards on the walls readied their weapons anticipating the next move. Gralorik stared down at the elder, right into his eyes and growled, "One thing I hate most, and every species does it, is lying. I was about to give you and the rest of your people peace, but I receive an insult under the banner of someone who cares very little for his own crew...you are unfit to rule."

With a mighty stomp, the elder was shoved to the ground and immediately executed. Mothers sheltered their young from the bloodshed, but fate would make their efforts fruitless. Gralorik pointed a single Talon out to the village and scoffed, "Disarm now or die just as your captain has!"

He hoped the people would surrender after such a display, but there was no yielding with these people. The first to fire was a guard on the wall, then without hesitation bullets came flying from all sides. Those bearing arms stayed in the streets to fight the invaders while the defenseless moved towards the concrete structure at the end of the path. War cries echoed all over the village as more of these demons came pouring over the walls. Aircraft came in from above firing hot bolts of death below, dropping off more for the onslaught that would come.

Gralorik thought he was the one with the advantage, little did he know what all "weapons" the villagers harvested from the weapons cache. Some of the older men moved tarps off of what were unidentifiable lumps, now seen as stationary cannons. As more aircraft came in, they now faced a barrage of heavy shells and rockets from below. One shell managed to hit the fuel storage on one dropship and sent it crashing on the other side of the perimeter wall.

A vandal missing one of his arms walked up to the now disgruntled captain and waited to get his attention. "We have two tanks on standbye sir. Whenever you would have..."

Grabbing the smaller being by the front of his cloak he growled, "Bring them in, NOW! We must crush those cannons before they shoot down all of our aircraft!"

"Right away sir!" The lesser being scrambled to say as the captain finally put him back down.

Down the path, some guards had gotten the last of the unarmed families into the bunker and shut the doors behind them. The crowd was made mostly of mothers and their children, all cowering in fear. Sounds of crying and confusion echoed everywhere down the halls, and even so the guards maintained their composure. They were not completely unaware of the situation, but even with the tensions in the room they stuck to their training.

Off in the corner a mother was talking to her son. He was about thirteen, not too long before he would comelete the first step of his training to guard the wall, as everybody did at the age. Unlike many in the room, which were younger than he, he had a grasp on himself. Being so young he did not think much of the invaders, so sure the guards could manage everything. His naivety just the same as all of the other children in the room. There was so little he knew about the world around the village, so little.

A barrage of explosions went off just outside the door. The guards peeked through small slits, cast in heavy iron. All of the mothers inside were curious as to what was going on and started a small ruckus behind their protectors. Just when the guards had enough they told everybody to pipe down.

"I can't say for sure, but it looks like everything might be settling down outside. The aircraft are all retreating!" One guard cried out.

Some who had buried their children in their arms finally let them go. A wave of relief swept over the room. Checking again another guard opened a slot, only to see the guard in full retreat. For a moment he saw something moving down the street and could not make it out. Then when one of the gun emplacements disappeared, he knew there was something serious going on. More explosions followed as a large mass crawled over the wall. Like the other object down the road it had something mounted to its back, and just as the other one did it made another gun emplacement disappear.

The guards held their hands back to secure everyone inside for what was about to happen next. From outside there came a pounding noise, one which would forever haunt all of those inside. There came cries for help and mercy, but the guards called for the voices to stand their ground and fight off the intruders. Two mothers recognized the cries of their husbands and tried to reach out but a barrage just in front of the door cut everything silent.

A loud stomping noise came closer and closer to the door until it stopped. Screeches from the demons filled their ears and shots filled the air from outside. Both guards checked their weapons to see if they were ready and lined them up with the doors. Their preparedness would be pointless in the next few seconds.

BOOM!

In an instant the doors were gone. Both guards were instantly killed from the blast, throwing their weapons to a couple of nearby mothers. Dust filled the room, causing a mass coughing fit from everybody in the room, except for the new entrants. Sets of glowing eyes could barely be made out by the original occupants , but the sounds of charging weapons could still be heard.

Stepping past the corpses, smashed under the doors his tanks blew down, Gralorik grinned at the site before him. Pointing a talon to the room, his men quickly spread out. Claws clutched at mothers, still holding onto their children. Those very same claws separated families and quickly sorted out their plans for the captives. Some of the demons were drooling behind their masks, eager to let out pent up "frustration" on some of the captives, since they had not seen a female in a while. Meanwhile the children would all be bartered away at markets in the tangled shore. Other Fallen provided a small sum of money, but human? This crew would be making a killing from all they had there.

"Everybody has been divded and accounted for sir" Gralorik's second in command proclaimed.

"Your statement is untrue Zutin. We have yet to decide who we leave behind to tell others of the victory here."

Zutin looked around between both sides trying to pick who would stay. The captain made the rule official after he took charge and made it very clear what should be done. So he scrambled over to a random woman on all fours and pulled her out of the crowd. She was huddling in the corner with her son prior and reached for him out of the other crowd. Seeing her attachment, and being disgusted by it, Zutin pointed for his men to bring the boy before the captain.

The boy fought somewhat against his captors, eliciting a grin from the captain. "It's always good to see a strong pick for last man. There was a reason for this" he said, cupping the woman's chin.

"You let her go!" Yelled the boy.

"Yoshiro!" The woman yelled.

Laughter erupted from the captain and his crew, "And the little runt has a name too, how wonderful. So Yoshiro, have you ever lived alone before?"

He had to think it over before he gave his answer as any child would, shaking his head. The captain waved Zutin off, dragging Yoshiro's mother away with him. Yoshiro turned to face her, tears in his eyes when a claw grappled to his chin, forcing his head back around.

"You have nothing to fear boy. Mommy is made from good stock, even though she is not Eliksni, she'll still make some use to me in my private quarters."

Gralorik thought the boy to be an idiot, not comprehending a word coming out of his vocal processor, but he was wrong. In a blunt moment of defiance Yoshiro spat in the face of the captain, causing some of his crew to freeze. So far the captain was good at picking compliant idiots to be the survivors of his raids, that is until now. Growling so intense his vocal receptors had trouble relaying the noise, the captain grabbed the child by the throat and slammed him to the ground.

All of the mothers including some of the children thought he was going to end up like the village elder, they could not have been more wrong. Reaching into a sheathe at his side, Gralorik made use of his ceremonial blade. With one precise strike he carved a fine scar down the right side Yoshiro's face. All but the crew watched in horror as his arms flailed about, fruitlessly trying to break free from the makeshift surgery going on.

After carving right through the boy's eye then he sheathed the knife and waved for another one of his men behind him. He crawled up to his captain with something in hand, hot and made out of iron. Effortlessly hold ing the boy in place, he took the hot iron from his crewmate and pressed the metal against the scar on the boy's flesh, sizzling the skin. At this point, yelling didn't make anything better for the boy. The captain picked the boy back up by the throat and held him out for all to see.

"A monument to your loss today as well as a reminder of what will happen to you if you decide to act up aboard my ship! Now...go ahead and start loading everybody up. The rest of you tear apart the bunker for the tech. Do not come back aboard my ship if you can't find the cloaking tech, understand?"

The crew responded heartily in their native tongue and so began the process. Yoshiro was left bound in the middle of the floor, writhing in pain. As the prisoner were being dragged past, some of the kids tried to say goodbye. Their captors saw this and smacked them before they could utter another word to him.

The boy did not remember much of what else happened after that moment. His nerves were shot and the pain caused him to pass out.

Present...

It never was the same. He thought he would never make it, but here he was drinking out of a bottle filled with something that dulled the senses, made him forget about the permanent wound on his face. Time usually went by faster but for some reason he stayed fixated on one moment in the bunker, the look on his friends faces. What he could see out of his good eye he wish he could no more. Part of him even wanted to leave the doors open tonight and wait for whatever may be still out there a chance to end it all. Would he though?

He always thought of it, why he never left the door open to let it happen. Maybe there was some sense inside of him believing his mother might still be alive, his friends, the rest of his family. There was a premonition in him planting the idea they might still be alive. The question was how was he going to find them? Before he passed out he thought heard a familiar sound, ships coming in.

"No, that's dumb." He said, talking to no one but himself.

"Why do I keep asking the damn question? It's not like I even know where to start looking, because I don't!" He yelled as the tears came back, chucking the bottle at the wall. "Well, there goes another one. Only about, I dunno, fourteen more bottles left."

Shaking his head he stared down at the floor, "So this is it? I'm just going to keep doing the same, boring shi..."

Yoshiro stopped as the bell next to the front door rang. Last time it rang was last year when a small pack of wolves came in through the front door. They gave him a chase but he eventually caught all of them. He really wanted to keep one as a pet, though it didn't share the same feelings and nearly bit his hand off.

Rifle in hand he grabbed his armor and the rest of his hunting gear and mashed the red button once more. Slowly the doors opened, but Yoshiro wasn't going to wait. Once there was a large enough opening he made his way through and started scanning the hallway. Darkness consumed every corner and edge so he turned on the flashlight he so professionally taped to the front of his weapon.

Part of him wished the bunker was still functioning as well as it did during its hayday, but he just didn't have the parts. The demons...they not only took his people but anything else tech related except for his room. They never could breach the door and gave up after they found what they were looking for. Strange the came so far and took everything yet...

CRASH!

The sound reverberated throughout the hall along with another familiar noise. Memories flooded back, as he now rushed towards the source down the other side of the hall, where his people found the weapons. He quickly looked down to check and see if his weapon was loaded and charged through the open door. Looking around he shined his flashlight on empty crates, knocked over shelves, and a stack of boxes with a hole in them.

Moving closer he stepped in a puddle. Confusion wrapped his brain as he made sure everyday the ceiling was kept in excellent condition, especially in the rainier seasons. What he found was not water to his astonishment, the puddle reffected back at him, as Crimson as the substance flowing in his veins. Looking around the room he saw similar spots on the ground, some he didn't notice as he walked in, and others leading straight to the boxes.

As cautious as he could be he carefully stepped towards the boxes shouting as he came closer, "Listen up, I don't know who you are or who you think you are, but you have five seconds to show yourself!"

"Five!"

Nothing moved...

"Four!"

Silence still ensued...

"Three!"

Something might have shifted...

"Two!"

There was really something there...

"One!" He yelled as a claw reached out.

Yoshiro's eyes widened as several other limbs reached out. He slowly backed away as four glowing eyes looked back at him. The finger he had resting on the trigger slowly made its way to meet the metal, but before he could pull the trigger it spoke to him. "Please don't...kill me...I..."

Sliding his finger away from the trigger he barked back "You can't make any demands! You killed my father and took my people! DIE DEMON!"

His finger quickly slid back to meet the metal he stopped when the fallen uttered a few simple words, "Yoshiro...please help me."