Twilight Ch 1 to 10: The Beginning Compendium

by ZephyrFate

Three lives torn apart by the apocalypse must decide how to survive in a demoninfested world. Three goals: peace, control, and redemption. Three journeys into the heart of darkness.

Chapter 1: Requiem of Sanity

"The end is coming. I can feel it in the wind. Humanity is set to die."

"It's all your fault, you know. You brought them here."

"I did what was necessary . . . I always do what is necessary."

A normal detective job, nothing out of the norm. They'd been investigating crimes for years, him and his partner. They'd run into many perils, many obstacles, many problems. For each solution, there was a sense of hope that the case would be solved. However, this recent call felt more like something a Ghostbuster would do, not two detectives The house they'd been recommended to investigate had a disenchanting nature to it, as if it was veiled in darkness. Mark shivered in the cold of the night.

"Why'd we have to come here again?"

"I told you why. This case could mean a promotion from our boss." Andrew remarked.

"Well I'm pretty fucking spooked. We should be careful around here, could be all manner of backwards redneck freaks out here….we could be starring in Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3 for all I know."

Andrew turned to Mark with a grimace.

"We're not in Texas, dumbass. It's just a little bit into Virginia, or did you forget like always?"

Mark didn't know what to say. He disliked it when Andrew read him like a book, but it was hard not to, they both had a lot of history….

It was ten years ago. Mark was about 15 years old, a boy with shaggy brown hair and stark blue eyes, clothed in nothing but rags that he acquired through stealing. His family had deserted him and he was forced to live on the streets, peddling anything he could to survive, even his own body. Andrew had found him on the streets, huddled under a newspaper for warmth under the incessant torrent of rain that fell that day. Andrew's figure looked like a businessman's, with a blue suit and a trim figure that let anyone know that he was fit. His eyes were unflinchingly green and his hair a light blonde. He offered Mark a place to live, where he could start over.

"Look kid, you could catch pneumonia out here, it's probably best that you just come with me, alright?"

"…Okay…"

Mark was reluctant, maybe this guy was another man who would use him for money, or kidnap him and kill him. However, Andrew was different. He had a wife and kids, and didn't ever touch Mark the way many people had. Mark related the story of what happened to his parents, how they had run off to Vegas to get married and never came back. He found out later that his mother gave birth to another child, and that he had been disowned. Andrew looked past Mark's reminiscence and instead looked toward the future, by helping him become a detective to work with him.

The cold wind blew even more fiercely as they entered the dilapidated and ruined house. They both agreed to split ways and search thoroughly; their case required that they try to find some missing belongings, most prominently a golden watch. Mark walked into the kitchen. It reeked of death, much like the rest of the place did. Mold covered the plates and even though it was sunset out, the house only filtered enough light to notice the moon was out. He turned on his flashlight and started to look through the cupboards. Rats crawled out of some of them, carrying off some delectable treat that had been preserved for all years. There was nothing left that was edible for any human. He peered into the fridge, and found even more rotted and decayed food. There was also a human hand preserved in the freezer, which almost made Mark vomit, if he hadn't had such a strong will for such things. He put it into a bag for some sort of evidence to send in to the cops, in case a serial killer had lived here unbeknownst to anyone. Andrew, on the other hand, was scouring the living room. Everything was covered in a fine film of dust, and children's toys were strewn around in pieces. He found a Barbie Doll head soldered into a wall, and when he tried to pull it, blood streamed out of the doll's mouth. He began to head down the hallway into a bathroom, which lead to an even more shocking occurrence. The tub was filled with blood, and a body was sitting in it, dead and rotting.

"This case is more than I bargained for…shit…."

He tried to identify the person in the tub. It was a woman in her late forties with brown hair and blue eyes. He tried to pull the rest of the body out but it seemed tethered to the bottom of the tub, and he heard metal clinking much like a steel chain.

"Something is really, really wrong here.."

Mark appeared behind him and was also shocked.

"What the fuck?! First a human hand, and now a dead body?! We didn't sign up for a murder case…this isn't a job for detectives like us."

"Calm down. Yes, it's revolting as all hell, but we have a job to do and I hope you have the balls to work with me on it. I say we should both check out the cellar." Andrew said.

"Alright." Mark replied, but hastily pulled out his .45. They both descended into the dark cellar, unsure of what they'd find.

The stairs creaked as they moved, one almost to the point of giving way and trapping anyone who dared try to investigate. They both reached the bottom and looked around. The floor was covered in grime and dirt. Rocks and gravel strewn around it liberally, and a feeling of melancholy riddled in the atmosphere. Mark found an old bike and checked it out. The inscription on it read, "THOSE WHO SEEK GOD MUST SUFFER." and it too, much like the body in the tub, was chained to the floor. He also saw a table lined with cutting implements on top of it, and they were strangely enough so clean that whenever Mark's flashlight passed over it, the light produced a glare that could blind. He picked a butcher knife up in his left hand, and noticed that it was so unblemished that none of the dust around the area had even touched it, like someone had been there a few minutes before they had entered the room. Andrew pointed his flashlight at the back wall, and more inscriptions of pentagrams and strange symbols were drawn in crimson blood. He investigated further and found that there was a tear in the wall that could be pulled. He picked away at it, and the wall fell apart to reveal even more inscriptions, carved into the wood framework of the house.

"I told you there'd be freaks out here." Mark commented.

"It's more than that, they must worship some evil God out here. There's absolutely no rhyme or reason to any of this… all the chains and strange paraphernalia don't remind me of any religion that I've researched, or any rituals that could be performed. It's not voodoo, and it's not even Satanism, aside from the pentagrams. There's something else here, and I don't think it's human."

Strange noises, like guttural moans mixed with the scream of a dying cat echoed through the cellar. Mark turned his flashlight to see something crawling out of the ground, beginning as a dark pool and forming into a small creature with a colossal mouth full of sharp daggers of teeth that dwarfed it's body. It screamed as it pulled itself from the ground, and began to move towards Mark's light. Mark cocked his gun and readied himself.

"Stop where you are, alright? Don't come any closer!"

It was more of a rhetorical demand, the creature obviously did not understand a word Mark said. Andrew turned his flashlight on it and fired a round into the right side of the demon's head. It turned and began to move towards Andrew, this time moving just a little faster. More moans and sounds began to fill the room, and Mark turned his flashlight to see more of the demons appearing out of the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. By now, Andrew was firing round after round into the demon advancing on him, but there were others growing around him, which began to lock onto his legs and chew the flesh. Andrew's face contorted with agony as he screamed in pain. After some time, the advancing demon finally leaped upwards and clenched it's teeth around Andrew's head, and he could not escape them. Mark was firing as many rounds as he could into the demons now eating away at Andrew's body, but it was too late.

"Run took the hint and sprinted towards the stairs, almost tripping as blind fear and panic took over his body, and adrenalin pumped through his veins. He could hear the screams get louder as Andrew was torn apart and the demons chanting in unison with their inhuman cries. He tore through the house as fast as he could, bursting through the front door, but unluckily tripping as a demon appeared in front of him. He fell over the demon and onto the front lawn, the world going black as he heard more creatures circle around him…….

Awaking in a frenzied state, Mark reached for his gun and fired several rounds into the air, screaming in despair. It took some time, but the shock of what had just occurred faded from his system, and he adjusted to his surroundings. He was still on the same front lawn, but the house was gone, along with Andrew's car. Everything was deadly quiet. There was no sound of cars filling the air much like the ocean used to. No one was around, houses that Mark had seen on the way there were nonexistent. The world around him had definitely changed, he couldn't believe he had been unconscious for that long. He walked down the street looking for someone who could explain anything, but everyone was gone. Swing sets blew with every zephyr, and plastic bags tumbled in the breeze. It was chilly for a Virginia morning, and felt like a storm was about to blow in. He finally found a car parked near a ravine, it's door open as if someone jumped out of it down into a stream. He turned to a street sign and read "Jekyll St.", which was odd because they had specifically gone a few streets over, to Madison St. He didn't ponder it too long as he entered the car and found the keys to it already in the ignition. He hoped that the person who had tried to kill himself/herself wasn't alive, so he could freely steal this car. He started the car and began to drive down the street towards downtown. The fall must have made him forget what city he was in, but at this point, the strange occurrences heavily outweighed that detail in significance. Homes he drove by were destroyed and he even saw dead people carpeting lawns like mishandled candy. Bodies were in the street, some unluckily enough were crushed by the car wheels on accident. Mark figured that if the signs were telling him he was alone, he might as well damn himself further by desecrating the dead. Cars were crashed into each other and pools of blood replaced pools of water around storm drains and sewage passageways. He then saw what he thought was a person in an alleyway, and stopped his car. He exited the car and tried to signal the person.

"Hey! You're the first person I've seen since I woke up! Can you explain to me what's going on?"

No reply. The person seemed to be doing something, similar to eating.

"It looks like you might have food, I haven't eaten in forever." He walked towards the person slowly. It turned around and he could see the "person" had solid white eyes, blood streaming out of it's mouth and a beating human heart in his hand.

"You're not…oh fuck…" He reached for his gun and tried to fire at the thing, but there was no bullets.

"Oh karma, I fucking hate you." He instead pulled out his Gerber knife that had a blade 6 inches long and would do for some quick self-protection. The cannibal started to move towards him, trying to go for a bite at his neck. It was too slow as Mark sliced at it's neck and pushed it back. It struggled to get back up, but was somehow able to stand up and keep advancing. Is this thing a zombie? I know exactly what should work then. He shifted his knife to a downward stabbing motion, and drove it straight into the demon's head. He pulled it out but it seemed unharmed. Okay, so you're not a zombie, because this is definitely not working-- The demon bit into his left shoulder, drawing copious amounts of blood. It had moved faster than he expected, and caught him totally off-guard as he let out of a loud gasp of pain. He stabbed into the demon's chest several times and eventually was able to push him away. He ran for the car and fumbled the keys. He frantically closed the window and went for the keys again. The demon was banging on the window and cracking it with each blow. Before the monster could break through, Mark pushed the keys into the slot, revved the engine and drove away, leaving the monster to finish it's meal. Alright, I'm not alone and surrounded by cannibals and freakishly creepy monsters. What the fuck do I do now? He sped towards downtown, and saw more creatures just like the one he had encountered roaming around town. They seemed to have crawled out of the woodwork just after he disturbed one of them. Turning towards the downtown exit on one of the main highways etched through the town, it wove it's way into a dark tunnel. As he drove he saw more and more creatures gathering around the car, or flying over it as he ran into them. The further he got into the tunnel, the more that he saw and the more that slowed him down. Mark pushed on the gas as hard as he could and luckily broke free of the tunnel and back into daylight. He heard explosions all around him, and buildings collapsing nearby. The city was literally in an apocalyptic state, devoid of all life and existence besides the demons that scoured the land. He looked ahead and saw another gathering, but it was more like a mass, he parked and got on top of a statue to glimpse the event. They were worshipping what looked to be a God.

Mark could see all sorts of creatures surrounding an altar. A man stood in the middle of it. He spoke in a priestly manner, but what baffled Mark most was that he saw these aberrations of nature as equals. They did not move forward to kill him as they did Mark, they seemed to revere him. Goliaths with five arms and winged dogs with scythes for arms seemed frozen in place amongst the variety pack of demons that encircled the man.

"I have called you here to show you the world you have so easily destroyed! I applaud you for what you have done! There is much more to accomplish! The Last City must fall to you, oh glorious Executioners! Vishuddha wants this world to be cleansed! We must kill everything!"

The demons, in chorus, yelled in a victorious, yet ambitious tone.

"Eight years ago, you all came here because of my help! I did not expect you to so warmly welcome this planet as your new home! You unearthly beings, you despicable Daemons! This is your time. Your new bloodlust for Terra will begin now! Apocalypse has awaited humanity for such a long time, it is now in your hands to deliver their salvation!"

The man turned to his right, and another figure appeared from out of nowhere. His body seemed to twist and turn as the air around him twisted with it. His body bended reality until he was firmly fixed in place. He spoke in tongues and the demons all seemed to laugh in their own languages. He then moved his hands around and a whirlwind generated from them, but it was no ordinary whirlwind…it was more like a vacuum. Mark could see people ripped from nearby buildings, people who were still alive and in hiding.

"It seems Vitnos has found some cowardly, pathetic humans for you all. Tear them apart!"

The figure named Vitnos allowed his full figure to show, and he was a tall man with dark blue hair and black eyes. He was clad in a mix of what seemed to be a bishop's robe and a monk's. He did not wear shoes, as his body seemed to levitate above the ground. He controlled the humans like rag dolls as they screamed in fear. He let them fall lightly on top of the demon crowd. As if they thought alike, they began to tear them to shreds. Blood spewed like a fountain around the crowd as all of them devoured their new meals. Some demons began to fight over a leg, an arm, or an intestinal cord. Mark had to turn away and puke, it was too much to witness. His shoulder was still bleeding, but it seemed to have lessened as if his body had been in a trance while watching the gathering. The sun began to shine through the crowds directly on the man and Vitnos. A dark lightning bolt struck the man as he gathered his power into a single stream of energy. He then sent it eastward through downtown. It destroyed several buildings and seemed to eradicate anything it touched.

"I have given you the path to your freedom, your reign over this planet. Now go!"

Vitnos as well disappeared much like he had introduced himself, bending the reality around him as if he sent his body to a different plane of existence every time he did so. The man then turned his head and stared directly at Mark. Mark froze in his spot, this couldn't be his time to die. He simply smirked, and snapped his fingers. The altar along with the priest were gone. Clouds began to reform and the sky returned to its pre-storm state.

Instead of dwelling on what the man was talking about, Mark went into a local convenience store to get something to patch up his torn shoulder. The doors were unlocked, and some of the store's wares were thrown off of their shelves much like other people had run through here for survival. He could also smell death here. He looked towards the back wall where chilled drinks were stored, and saw bodies stored there instead, impaled on hooks, and half-eaten. The smell was desensitizing by now, there was death everywhere. Mark found some first-aid kits and applied a salve and a wrap to his shoulder. He sat down on the floor, between an aisle filled with food, and began to eat.

"I'm really hungry, shit, I'm starving." He mumbled as he gorged on anything he could tear into. It couldn't fill the void that he felt more and more as his stomach expanded with the addition of food. The void of loneliness he hadn't felt for ten years. Andrew was gone, more than likely dead. Somehow he had been transported eight years into the future, or onto another planet, or something. Nothing made sense. This wasn't the reality he had wanted to wake up in. He thought of what it would have been like if he had died when Andrew did, given up and let the demons kill him. Would Andrew have forgiven him? Would he go to Hell for what he was? He missed Andrew always with him, missed the way Andrew talked about him, and missed the times when they laughed and shared moments of happiness. He stared out the glass windows along one side of the store, and wondered why his fate was so cruel. He ate a little bit more and stood up, checking around the store for anything he could use. He found a lighter, a backpack, and some more first aid kits. He shoveled food and drinks into the backpack, along with the lighter and kits. He also realized he needed to piss. The bathroom, much like anywhere else, was covered in blood and chipped glass, but the toilet was totally clean. He finished up taking a leak, and turned around to come face-to-face with another demon. It must have walked on air to have snuck up on Mark as it did. It breathed on his face, and gave Mark enough time to see that he had snuck through the back door of the store and hid until this very moment. It's skin was charred and ripped off, and its face resembled a bear's, while it walked on two blades that looked like unsharpened bastard swords. Mark reached for his knife and somehow ducked under a fast blow from the creature's arm. He stabbed upward and caught the creature in the jaw, twisting the knife until blood poured out. He then shoved the demon backward into the wall. Mark hastily searched the bathroom for another weapon, and found a long pipe that gave him far better range than his knife. He began to beat the creature's face over and over again, but it did nothing as the creature could manipulate it's legs in such a way that it was better than a fencer. It parried each blow from the pipe and sent Mark backwards into the stone bathroom wall. Standing on both of its arms, it moved its legs into a fencer stance and charged, burying two swords into the wall next to Mark's head, pinning him. The creature let out a purr, which sent shivers down Mark's spine as it pulled out a sword and tried to jab it into Mark's face, but Mark was quick enough to evade it and slam the pipe straight into the creature's chest. It knocked the wind out of the demon, and Mark stood up and repeatedly beat the creature until it stopped moving. It's legs dropped lifelessly to the floor and it's death throes ceased shortly afterwards. Mark clutched the pipe in a death grip, fearing the creature would get back up again. Luckily for him, nothing happened. It was dead. Mark ran out of the store as fast as his feet would carry him, not knowing where they would lead him.

The car was still running so Mark entered it again and sped off, but slowed down and looked eastward down the path of rubble and destruction that the priest created. He could see far-off in the distance the army of demons leading to kill everyone in this "Last City". He had no idea where this place was, but he knew that it would lead to his inevitable doom if he went the same way the group did. Mark instead turned the car westward and saw a hotel that seemed uninhabited. There had to be some place to find solace in downtown. He would have passed right by it, but the car ran out of fuel and slowed down to a screeching halt. There goes any transportation. I guess this Holiday Hotel should have someplace to sleep. He walked in and saw absolutely no dead bodies. No one was at the main desk in the lobby, and the ringer was destroyed. He walked around and did not see any of the massacre he had been subjected to these past few hours. Slowly treading up the stairs, he saw paintings of God and also of devil spawn and other creatures. The hotel must have been owned by someone very pious. A room marked "212" seemed to draw him, only because of the exact same pentagram from before was inscribed into it. He opened the room, and found a bed and room with many belongings much like someone was living there. Mark walked into the room, and shut the door, picking up some of the strange objects around the room. It feels like home.. he thought. He turned his head slightly and was bludgeoned in the back of the head. The room swirled around him as his body crumpled to the floor. He awoke and groaned in pain. He was in a dark room, but he was clearly alive. Touching the spot behind his head that he was hit, he felt blood dripping out. The pounding headache he now had made it difficult to find out where he was. He could make out a man sitting at a table, sharpening what looked to be a metal spear, except the blade itself glowed an iridescent green. He looked to be about 40 years old, with graying hair, a rugged face and hazel eyes. Around his neck was a chain that looked to be a locket with an engraving on one side of it. He was clothed in nothing but brown, including a leather trench coat that sunk down to shoes that gleamed with a strange light.

"Wha…where am I?" He started to get up but found that his legs were tied together. The figure in the darkness put his glowing spear down and walked towards a switch, letting light profuse through the room.

"You're still in the hotel. I see you're a human, too. Demons can't talk the way we do." He began to walk over, and sat next to Mark.

"Look, I'm not a demon, can you let me go? I don't know where I am, and I don't know what's going on. You're the first person I've met who wasn't a cannibal, a fucking sorcerer, or a fucking freak!" Mark yelled. The man merely smirked. "Well, you still have some fight left in you. What's your name?"

"Mark. Mark Goldstone."

"Nice to meet you, Mark. I'm John. John Banros. I'm a resistance fighter, standing amongst the last resistance of mankind against them. I see that my spear sparks your curiosity. Well, since you seem to have been hiding under a rock for many years, we've developed technology dealing with plasma. The spear is irradiated so that it cannot be destroyed easily, but allows a person to fuel his strength to generate energy. I guess it's a way of adaptation. The demons can wield supernatural powers, and we've simply refined our technology to prove at least a match for them. Why do you know none of this? Where did you come from?"

Mark spoke calmly, " I came from about 20 miles outside of downtown. I was investigating a case with my partner….we're both detectives. We checked out this house, which turned out to be nothing but several gruesome death scenes. The cellar was filled with pentagrams and demons that ate my partner. I escaped, but I tripped and was knocked out. I can't remember what city this is, and I don't know what happened or why all of this going on." John stood up and walked over to a desk.

"Well, I can't tell you much. I'm not a historian. About eight years ago, those demons started to appear and kill people. If they didn't kill them, they'd assimilate their bodies into people and mutate them. Animals and plants were not safe either. They, too, changed with the planet, and were turned into killing machines bent on erasing us from existence. I don't remember my past, none of us do. We've tried to divulge it out of people, but when we do a mental obstacle is set up in their minds. Whenever we find something, this obstacle kills all brain activity and leaves the person brain-dead. We end up killing them to save them from their misery. I can't tell you all that's happened, but I do know where you can find answers. I'm a scout, and my main headquarters is in the last City, City 15. We gave up on names and instead designated places with numbers. That place is confirmed as the last civilization of humans. We're only about 10,000 in number. There are other groups out there but they are annihilated more and more each day. The people lose hope, lose grasp of reality. I don't know why things occurred the way they did, but I feel that you'll survive better if you come with me to City 15." John sighed, and picked up his spear. He cut the ropes binding Mark's legs, letting Mark stand up.

"Look, I'll come with you. I have no one else and nowhere to go." John nodded, and both of them left the hotel, towards an uncertain destiny.

John and Mark walked towards a pile of rubble that circled what looked like an arena. "This place is what we use to train new fighters, though, I don't think you're much of a fighter yet." Fuck you too, asshole. "We're running low, since most of our city is women and children. That's not to say the women or the children don't fight, but they're more concerned with surviving in this harsh reality than trying to change it." Mark acknowledged the truth of those words, he'd much rather live that kind of life, than always be paranoid, unsure of what's to come. "I don't know if you saw this, but I have news. I was near a convenience store and I saw a massing of demons around a single figure. He told them that the place they need to go is the Last City. They were a large militia and the man spoke as if this was all they needed to destroy the rest of the humans." John yelled in anger and drove his spear straight through a wall, obliterating it. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Shit! I have to get back!" He began to walk briskly now, and Mark had no idea where he was going. "Do you know who the man is? Do you know who Vitnos is?!" John immediately stopped after Mark uttered those words. "Vitnos is the reason we've hidden in shelter for so long, he's responsible for creating the demons, and for bringing them here. He's also…my brother. When the apocalypse happened, we were separated from each other. I found out later that he had defected to the other side, effectively bending over for the demons. They gave him power beyond his wildest dreams, and now he has become something else. His name never used to be Vitnos….they gave him the name as some position of power. He doesn't remember me nor does he remember his own family…of which he killed with his own two hands. I watched him rip my mom's head off, and eat it. I watched him split my father in half and kill our twin sisters, who were nothing but infants. He looked at me with the same cold stare he'd give me if I had pissed him off, and disappeared. I've never forgiven him." Mark felt a little somber after the story, but it seemed as if John purposefully evaded the other part of Mark's question. "Well, that's one out of two. Who was the man I saw, garbed like a priest and controlling them like his children?" John once again halted walking. "His name is A--", he paused as demons started to crawl out from under the debris. Soon enough, they were completely surrounded. "Shit, stay close to me, I can kill them if you just stay close!" John's spear became a blur as he slashed at demons left and right, sending them spinning far away, irradiated from the plasma on his weapon. He pierced straight through a rather large goat demon, that stood on two legs and had tentacles protruding from it's chest. The rest of the demons were more of the standard fare that Mark had seen, the same ones with knives for legs, and the rest were just cannibal people. John didn't break a sweat as each of them were impaled or split in two from his spear. Winged demons flew in, sensing the two of them even more precisely than a vulture. John stuck his spear in the ground, and energy began to bubble forth from the ground. It formed a circle of energy in front of him, and he shoved his spear straight through the middle of it. The movement seemed to collect the energy into a beam of death as he moved around, killing the birds by burning them to death. Mark noticed that as John kept using this attack, that it drained the energy out of John's body. If he used it too long, he could die. "John, stop! They're dead!" John wasn't listening, however, and continued using it until his body gave out and he fell to the ground. "Shit….I thought I had them, but they're still alive." Mark was dumbfounded. "They ARE dead, John, you killed all of them!" The words were useless as the demons began to rise up from where they were previously "slain" and continued to move towards both of them. "I guess these demons are different…" John muttered, on the brink of fainting from the duress his body went through. Something felt peculiar to Mark, though. He began to run towards the demons, and the world was veiled in darkness yet again.

"He's awoken. The time for death will come to an end soon."

"If he can survive long enough. Truly, you give him far too much credit."

"Maybe so. I'll wait until I prove you wrong, and laugh in your face."

"You used to have a connection to him, I guess it makes sense. Let us watch for now."

A faint sound, the beating of a heart, the gnashing of teeth, a body being torn apart. Mark woke up, his face was covered in blood, and there was a taste of blood in his mouth. It didn't taste metallic, like it was his blood or John's, it tasted bittersweet. He looked around and saw that every demon that had attacked them was dead, half-eaten and destroyed. John was passed out, but not dead, as his chest rose and fell rhythmically. A sharp pain could be felt on the back of his right hand. A mark had been embedded on his hand, and it looked like a cross with two swords driven through it. There was a creeping pattern of deep black that looked like veins on the outside of his skin, and they were crawling towards his forearm. As they reached it, the veins stopped, and a faint blue light gleamed from them. Then, searing pain wracked his whole body and made him scream in total agony. John got up as he saw the scene of death around him, and crawled over to Mark. He saw the mark and his eyes widened, but he said nothing. "Mark, I'm here, everything is okay. We're safe." Mark couldn't hear anything as the pain drove him through like he was burning alive. Eventually, Mark passed out from the pain. John lifted him and carried him towards their escape route, a flying ship powered by antigravity. He entered it and laid Mark down on the floor. John fiddled with the controls and eventually the ship started up and lifted itself into the air. As it started to fly through the town, he saw in the distance more and more demons amassing in groups and heading towards City 15. On the skyline, City 15 was a gleaming white city in a sea of darkness. John turned the ship towards it, and wondered what he had run into. What did I help out? What did I give shelter? Unless we have some hidden benefactor, it was Mark that killed all of them outright. It's my fault, he could have died had I failed to prolong our lives with my spear. I feel weaker, worthless. Maybe he's a new hope, or maybe he's a new doom. The ship neared the City within a few hours, but he knew there was no time for idle chit-chat, they were coming to destroy everything. Another onslaught would be too much for the city. He exited the ship to a crowd of people, all staring at the man he held in his arms, with the mark on his right hand. "Before you say anything, I've just found our last hope."

Chapter 2: Reminiscence

"It seems that this man has looked into the abyss."

"It will not be long. The abyss has begun to gaze into him."

The cliff wall faded from view. The wind howled past, he could hear the happiness of the world around him, and he could feel the coldness in his heart. His heart would most resemble a dark onyx, he said. Every beat and every pulse heralded another aching moment in this mortal coil. He turned his head to see the water rushing towards him. There was nothing left to prevent what he wanted most. He closed his eyes, the water embraced him like a snug, icy blanket. The frigid liquid surged through his nostrils, blanketing all attempts to breathe. His moment was finally at last. He could die and not deal with any more of the pain. Darkness upon darkness, the moon overhead a last reminder of the live he once lived. He let the ocean take one more soul. His name was Khalon. When he was alive, he was a man who aspired for great dreams. Sacrifices and goals, torment with pleasure, and the occasional embrace from the fairer sex. He thought life was worth it, every moment and every sensation were supposed to speak volumes of its complexity. His first girlfriend dumped him after a few weeks, and his mother died within the next day. The very walls of his world shattered like glass. One final stab, in the form of his father going to jail for manslaughter. He decided to take a leap of faith, not for a religion, and not for anyone else. The leap was for his own suicide. His gravestone read March 31st, 2009.

Motherfuckers let me live. Why did they fucking let me live? What is my purpose here?! The hunting patrol were on a mission to attack a small camp filled with armed humans. Khalon looked down at his hands, his legs. When he died, he felt relieved. He had awaken on a beach filled with the stench of other dead humans. Many of them had slit wrists or rope bruises. Others had tried to kill themselves too. Some of them, as well, woke up and wondered why they were alive. Khalon struggled to stand upright, the time in the water had thrown his legs into entropy. Limping up the beach, he could see more dead bodies. These bodies were unmoving, however, and had been killed in various grotesque manners. "Hey, so you tried to kill yourself as well?" , one of the male survivors asked. Khalon replied, "Yeah..but why am I still alive? I fell off a cliff into frozen water. I should very well be dead." The survivor shook his head. "There's other forces at work here. I looked at my cellphone, which survived somehow and it says we're now in 2015." Khalon was stunned slightly, but ignored it and continued to walk up the beach to view his surroundings. Several of the other survivors mimicked his idea. It was an island, on all sides blocked by the ocean. Many trees grew here, but they were twisted and gnarled as if a hurricane had recently struck them. They grew twisted, ugly fruit that fell and exploded on the ground, their contents hissing. As soon as Khalon walked onto the grassy part of the island, the sand beach behind him began to move. He turned around and saw all of the survivors, dead or alive, be pulled into an enormous sand pit. At the bottom was rows and rows of teeth and tentacles. Men and women were sliced apart like butter as they made contact with each of the teeth. He watched horrified as many others were grasped by the tentacles and driven into each tooth repeatedly. Those who survived that disgusting assault were then pulled apart, sinews of muscle and bone marrow disintegrated within seconds. The pit let out a large growl and exhaled a blood fountain all over the island and the sea. Khalon was covered in human blood as he ran for his life. How odd..I'm running for my life when I wanted it to end. What's this sensation I'm feeling? Is it self-preservation? Instinct? He barreled through bushes and vines as he dove deeper and deeper into the island. A clearing appeared outside of the jungle. Across it he saw disfigured animals and people, monstrosities and grotesque figures coalescing and traversing the area. They danced as the scarlet rain ran down upon them. They fed from it, letting out hoarse cries of pleasure at each droplet that ran down their throats. Khalon was mortified, realizing that there was nowhere to run. He was one of the few in his family who would stand up to a challenge, though. He could make it across the plain without dying, he was sure of it. Breaking into a run, he charged headlong across the clearing. Many of the grotesqueries turned their heads but ignored him. Why are they just standing idly by? They should kill me too! Others actually gave him a clear path to run towards. This action gave Khalon a feeling his goal would be complete, but it was just a trick. As he made it to the edge of the field, one of the demons caught him between the stomach with a large bone club. The air ejaculated out of his body like a pillow that's just been sat upon. The green, lush world around him became a dizzying array of images and figures as he fell to the ground, unconscious. He awoke with a faint taste of blood crusted on his lips, and the stench of death became stronger than before. Around him were the bodies of the demons he ran past, mangled and maimed. Many were missing appendages and chunks of flesh from their bodies. The tingle of pain seared across his left and right arms, down to his chest and towards his heart. The pain increased sharply as Khalon passed out again.

I've stepped out of one world, into another. One borne of agony, despair, pain and horror. This is what Earth really is like, isn't it? His arms and upper chest were covered in a strange double-fan-shaped mark. The blades of the fans stretched across his left and right pecs, the middle of the fans pointing straight at his heart. Since the time he first tasted flesh, he sloughed off his humanity. He embraced the demon dwelling inside of himself. He let his body change and mould itself. His skin became rough and leathery, his body increased its muscle size dramatically. Other parts of his skeletal structure became the embodiment of weapons. From both oblique, miniature wings could jettison themselves out, which through some supernatural force could project him across a large distance at supersonic speed. However this did not stop itself instantly, and he found himself slamming into walls frequently as he taught himself how to use them. From both sides of his arms, blades could eject out of them. These had been his favorite killing tools. When his body absolutely craved the need for food, his hands could pull energy from the surrounding area and send it forward like a beam. Khalon was a prized killing machine, as the demons so fondly called him. He knew it, too, the way they envied his power. It made him feel needed, and that was what his old humanity sought for so long with no reward. As a demon, he could find this reward with his own two hands, slaughter his way up the food chain. Unfortunately, when he was picked up by a nomadic demon tribe, he was placed in the degrading position of "Fresh Meat". His tasks and responsibilities were minute and embarrassingly easy. Their latest task was to find every human in the area and kill them, which really was obvious. It seemed to be their only goal. Through talking with his compatriots, he learned that his tribe had been shunned from the overall demonic army. Their name was the "Executioners", the tribe being the "Vagabonds". Khalon didn't understand why the demons adopted human phrasing and naming, because their language was so radically different from English, Chinese, anything. It was definitely alien, and nothing that a normal being on this planet would utter. At first, it sounded like clicks and noises and groans. As the demon inside enveloped Khalon in it's embrace, the words mingled together and formed something that he could understand. The loss of the human language was the last barrier that he needed to become whole. He knew nothing outside of the name of the main army, or his tribe's name, and that disturbed something deep within Khalon's subconscious. His ambitious nature egged at his mind and soul; the urge to know the inner workings of the new world. The encampment was deep in the American desert, in a deep canyon with picturesque greenery and sand the color of gold. Various tents and houses were erected, but they were more like cul-de-sacs. His tribe waited along the canyon wall, scouting for any possible traps or guards. The sunset arched across the sky, turning the atmosphere a deep indigo tinged with red. This was their moment, what they lived for. The sweet silence before the cries of death echoed across the canyon walls, the melody and rhythm of their groans of pity and regret made the perfect orchestra in the demonic mind, in Khalon's mind.

The tribe was never quiet before they attacked, because they loved the element of surprise. Descending the slope and leaping upon the hopefully-frightened humans was the penultimate pleasure. He turned and looked at his tribe as he ran. All of them were like him, some walked on blades while others slithered along the ground. Their tails cut the sand with bullet-like precision. Their leader was a large beast with a metal hammer that grew from his arm, and his head sported two large horns that curved up and back towards his neck. He was the most fearsome out of all of them. Besides Khalon, he was also the only one wearing any clothes. His legs were covered in a fine chain mail while his chest had fine cloth that resembled a samurai's outfit. It didn't mesh well, probably because he had raided a human mall to find them. How would anything with a sledgehammer emanating from it's arm fit into those tight clothes? He pushed the thought from his mind and used his small wings to jettison himself further ahead for whatever lay in wait. The world came alive as soon as he stopped in the middle of the village. Humans, or something that looked similar to them, surrounded Khalon on all sides. The rest of his tribe wouldn't arrive for several minutes. Around him the humans pulled out weaponry that pulsated with a green light. He had no idea what that meant or what it would do to him, so he unleashed both of his elongated arm-blades. They came at him in unison, so Khalon began to arc his blades around himself to cover all of his blind spots. His opponents fell before him as their bodies were sliced in parts and in halves. He could feel himself be pierced by several irradiated spears, which then lifted him up and threw him against a wall. Dazed, he picked himself back up and fought back, slicing through the spear shafts and cutting open throats. The last human cowered before him, begged for mercy. Khalon sliced off both hands, waited a few seconds, then plunged one blade through his left eye socket. As he removed the blade, his tribe caught up with him. For some reason, they were hesitant to talk or even acknowledge his accomplishment. "What..what have you done?!", his leader roared.

"I did the deed. I slaughtered a dozen humans. What the fuck else could I have done?!"

The mark on Khalon began to glow with intensity, as the taste of humans wafted over his nostrils.

"No, you worthless piece of halfbreed trash!! Look down at what you killed!"

Khalon looked down and saw…demons. They weren't humans. Why..why aren't they humans? Why did he call me halfbreed? I am full demon. This..this is just a trick! I fell for a trap! They'll believe me!" He looked towards his leader and stared. He shook his head in disagreement. "I fell for a trap, at first they looked like humans and so I killed them. They had weapons that were covered in a strange glow. I can show you the wounds right….here?" The irradiated gashes in his sides and back were gone. Nothing was there, he had sustained no damage whatsoever. His leader snarled, and laughed. "I knew you weren't one of us, ever since we came across you. Your body was still changing into a demon, but inside your conscious and soul was still human! You killed some of our brothers and sisters, and for that you will die." He rushed forward, his sledgehammer scraping the ground in an attempt to scare his prey. Khalon realized he had no choice, he had to kill his leader. Both blades flew out and caught the first sledgehammer blow, but just barely. They were nothing compared to the sheer power of his opponent. He dodged under him and exposed his leader's back to sharp slashes and cuts, which made him roar in agony. Khalon used his wings to fly backwards, and to put some distance between him and certain death. The mark along his chest intensified with explosive blue-green light, and energy surged between both of Khalon's palms. As his leader turned around, Khalon rushed forward and implanted both palms into his chest, and let the explosive beam burst forth. It exploded through the beast's chest and blood even disintegrated with the energy.

He had won, his leader's life was snuffed out.

Being ostracized was the least of Khalon's worries. They cursed him as a harbinger of doom for the demon race. They threatened to tell the Executioners about him, and make his head worth something. He ran away, as he always did. His guilt and remorse for killing someone who had saved him long ago was tearing him apart. The truth also stung. He wasn't like the other demons. He killed his own kind, but even worse he could deceive his own mind into thinking they were humans. Had he really killed nothing but demons? There had to be a human or two somewhere in the mix. He wouldn't be changing into this killing machine if there wasn't a natural reason for it. Out in the desert he trudged and solemnly swore against whoever had created him for this. All he'd ever done in his dual existence was run from the truth. This, too, was another way to escape. Exiled and wracked with depression, he laid down on a large, smooth boulder and let sleep try to relax his tenebrous mind. In his dreams, he saw a man who looked just like himself. The man's eyes were a deep red, and his hair curled into a fine web of spikes and curves. In fact, the man looked like how Khalon himself did before he became a demon. For that matter, he couldn't remember if he had a different name when he was a human. He wore normal clothes that draped over a small, stringy frame. He had the appearance of what humans would call "emo" or "goth". It disgusted him, to think he used to be like that, encased in his own depression and a shell of dead emotions. The man turned and offered a hand. The void around both of them exploded in a euphoria of colors that streaked across and collided to form a sphere. It was like being inside of a giant bouncy ball that reflected and refracted all the virtues in the world in one breath. Khalon once again looked down at his hands to find them almost ethereal, transparent and opaque at the same time. He stepped forward and with each movement color exploded and swirled around him and the world. The man with the outstretched hand never moved, and waited. Khalon ran towards him, but the figure retreated and retreated. The world around him became smaller and smaller until he was crushed. That was when Khalon woke up and met the sunrise, the sunlight piercing the clouds like an arrow. He picked himself up and walked towards wherever his feet took him. The life I've lead has been for nothing until this point. I have the strength and power to shape my own fate. All I need is the will, and the way. Khalon was hungry so he feasted on any of the nearby animals. He was surprised they hadn't been tainted by the infestation of his own kind. For some reason, this desert felt pure, untouched. The wind sweeping over the canyon seemed to whisper "new beginnings", and his heart felt more alive than it had ever been before. He flew in any direction he wanted, and let the threads of his fate be woven in time.

Chapter 3: Twisted Time

"I always wondered how assassins worked in the human world."

"I agree, they seem methodical. Their full potential cannot be realized in human form."

"This man, Death walks in his shadow and he does not know it. What a pity. If only he knew the power he could have."

He began every day the exact same way. Eggs, sizzling bacon, and orange juice ready for him every morning. His wife the exact replica of what you'd call "poster wife", she was submissive and did everything he asked of her. She stayed home and took care of the kids and did everything an American wife was supposed to do. She loved him, nonetheless. She never questioned why he was always gone all the time, showing up at odd hours of the night without a hello or anything. The truth, well, let's just say she'd divorce him if she found out. To his wife, he masqueraded as a lawyer. He claimed to always take these big-name cases and save innocent people from rotting in jail and dropping the soap. However, in reality he was an assassin. His job was to kill people smoothly and efficiently for large sums of cash. His family never saw these sums, besides the fact that they lived in a relatively modest house that could have been bought by someone far less poor than he was. Various bank accounts were made in his name, but they all sported fake names and ties to foreign countries. Only he knew how to access them, and he wanted to keep it that way. He had killed many people over the years. Their wealth or their political status mattered not. He professed that he went to church with his family, but he never did. He knew he was going to Hell. His name was Adam. Ironically he never quite understood why he was named after the First Man. Wasn't Eve the one who screwed things up? Heh. I'm nothing compared to the perfection, the dweller in the Garden of Eden. Paradise? I don't belong there. There is no paradise for people like me. Sometimes life throws you a curveball, for Adam it was more than that. Life repeatedly beat him until he could no longer breathe, and then left him to do Death's handiwork.

There was one job that just didn't go the way he had planned. It was 2008, precisely March 3rd when he was approached by two shady people in a blood-red car. Adam was suspicious, there had been strange occurrences of demons paranormal events happening across the world. What if this was one of them? The people inside the car seemed normal enough, but you couldn't really know. Paranoia was common in this new world that Adam existed in.

"So, I hear you kill people. For money, of course." The person in the back seat said.

"Yeah, what of it? I don't usually make deals out here or in somebody's car." Adam replied.

"I have a proposition. If you kill a certain person that's been bothering me for awhile, disrupting my business and losing me clientele, I can give you at least one million dollars."

Adam couldn't simply refuse that sort of money. It sure wasn't the highest he'd been paid for such an escapade, but it definitely sounded nice.

"Okay, but first I need some information of my own. I want to know who you are, what you're doing coming to me out of the blue, and why you decided to make this extremely public."

The man looked sort of shocked. "I just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. Come inside my car and I will give you the full details."

So the assassin decided to enter the car and lend an ear. The inside was decked with new leather seats and an indoor TV. The man put in a DVD and showed Adam exactly who it was that needed to die. He looked simple enough, a man in his late 30s, with hazel eyes and slightly graying hair. He was dressed in a trench coat, but you could tell it was just casual wear and not something he wore all the time. "My name is Chayan Banros. I want you to kill my brother, Jon. He's the one you see right now. You see, I've been smuggling drugs across the border for some time no--" Adam cut him short.

"Look, I don't care what business you're in or why you need him dead. I just need to know where I can find him, or where I can kill him privately. Give me names of bars, hotels, places he might frequent without others around who would protect him. I do not kill meaninglessly, I do not take innocent lives. If they are truly innocent, and I have been ordered to kill them, then I will do so." Adam kicked his feet back and put his hands behind his head. "So? Give me the last information I need." Chayan looked around nervously. "You really will kill him right?" Adam looked at him, nodded his head, and looked outside the car as it drove along. The trees seemed to vibrate more as the car went past them. He seemed to notice a faint aura in the sky, but as soon as he blinked it disappeared.

Adam lived in New York. A big town, with many dreams and possibilities met there. The ideal of freedom was probably best idealized in this city, long before the massacre. Chayan informed Adam that his brother frequented the local bar "Twin Towers", which was a bisexual bar that accepted both the straight and the queer side of life. He didn't bother trying to read into that, it wasn't his business who his prey fucked. Around 9:30pm, he entered and found that a stripper show was going on and the entire bar was split in half. One was mostly for queers, and the other for straights. However, it seemed everyone who came here liked both flavors, as people moved back and forth between the shows. At times the place felt like a rave, but with a more sexual edge to it all. You could see guys and girls getting it on with the same and opposite sexes, with the music blaring and echoing around them. He quickly spotted Jon in the straight section, getting himself drunk as shit and not caring what people judged of his character. Adam walked over casually, ordered a drink and sat next to him. "What's up with the loneliness? You seem to be trying to kill the fun-loving mood of this place." Jon looked at him and smirked. "I'm not trying to hook up with any faggots today. Come back when I'm drunk off my rocker or just really desperate." Adam laughed.

"I'm not looking to hook up with you. I just figured you needed some company, nothing sexual or anything."

Jon looked back over and smirked again. "Fine, small chat would be nice. What's your name?"

"I'm Caesar. You?"

"Jon. I don't even come to these places to hook up with women. The ones that do come here are either strippers or hardcore sluts. I don't want anything to do with them. A friend of mine, Greg over there, the one fingering some girl's cunt, he definitely uses this place for hookups. All he ever gets are one-night stands. He's my roommate, you see, and probably the best friend I have right now. I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't around, fucking off and making life seem better all around."

"Yeah, I understand. My wife nags and bitches at me all the time, but I can't think of my life without her around. I enjoy her criticisms of my actions even if they do make my balls shrink a little every time she goes on a rant."

"If you're married, where's your ring?"

Adam laughed. "It's in my car, I come here to mess around with guys on occasion. Just some harmless experimentation. It makes me feel free."

"Huh..so you are kind of a faggot. Makes sense, I guess. So, have you knocked up your wife?"

"Yeah, she's looser than one of those inflatable slippery-slides, if you know what I mean."

Jon let out a barking laugh.

This may get a bit too personal. I gotta keep this in check. Keep up the charade. That's exactly what I need to keep Chayan from ending the deal.

"Well, I'm not interested if you're even thinking of hitting on me."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. You're not entirely cool with homos."

He then got up off his stool, finished his drink and began to head for the door. Before he got there, he motioned for Adam to follow him. Adam too, finished his drink and left the euphoria of the bar.

"Let's take a walk. Greg is fine, he can probably make his way back without any problems. You seem like a person I can really communicate with."

Communicate? Well, if you can call a silenced pistol bullet to the head "communication", then I'll be sure to keep talking to you.

Outside it was pitch black. Cars raced by, people following the path to their destiny, wherever it lead them. Street lights illuminated the darkened, gritty city. Adam and Jon continued to talk about life and it's nuances.

"Man, I am fucking wasted. I'm glad I left my car at home today, shit. There's nothing I would like more than to just fuckin' lay down and fuck some bitch for 20 bucks. He swayed and collapsed onto Adam. Adam supported him but at the same time hoped that Jon would pass out so his business deal could be completed. True as the call of nature, Jon slumped over and fell onto the pavement. His head smacked against it fairly roughly, and he was completely unconscious. Adam picked his body up, and balanced him upright before heading into an alley. Unfortunately for the assassin, things were not going to go according to plan. It seemed in this alley there was another business deal going on. Drugs were being handed over whilst a large sum of money was thrown to the other side. Adam spotted that it was a black gang on one side, and a Yakuza group on the other. They were probably nothing more than a Yakuza cell, as the Japanese had very little influence in New York. He laid Jon down against one of the walls of the alley, and hid behind a large dumpster to watch the proceedings. It seemed the black gang did not provide enough money for the Asians, and they all pulled out a piece. The black gang had .45s and revolvers pointed to the side "gangsta-style" while the Asians had Uzis and automatics aimed right back at them. They opened fire before Adam had any time to react. Several of the black men went down as well as some of the Asians, but they had an upper-hand due to the more expensive weaponry. The siren of cops echoed around the city and began to increase in volume.

Shit! SHIT! SHIT! Not here! Not now!!! Fuck, I need to get out of here! Adam frantically looked around for an escape, and spotted a fire escape ladder just past the dumpster. He ran, hoping no bullets would accidentally embed themselves in his body, and scrambled onto the fire escape as fast as he could. The rungs of the ladder disappeared as he flew up the ladder. He could see the stars in the sky while he ran for his life, hearing echoes ricochet off the metal as they spotted him. Below him he heard cursing in both Japanese and English, both of them knowing that there was a witness to the death just committed. He found the rooftop faster than he thought he could. For now, he would be safe. There was a door that led downstairs, and he opened it, peering into the darkness. Adam saw on the wall an inscription, "Holiday Hotel." Exactly what I need right now, a place to hide. Inside, the hotel was also dark and cold just like the outside. Okay, have I walked into a nightmare? First, the assassination attempt won't even happen tonight. Second, why are there no lights on in this fucking hotel? At the end of the hall, he saw a pair of glowing red eyes. They quickly vanished from view down another hallway. Adam followed it, unsure of what he might find.

The eyes led him to a deteriorated and disillusioned room whose paint peeled and cracked. In the middle of the room he saw a man in a wheelchair. The man turned and he saw that it wasn't even human. It was some demonic creation borne from Hell or some other plane of existence. He stood up from the wheelchair, and his mouth opened. Inside, Adam saw the entirety of life and yet nothing at all. One image, which blanketed Adam's thoughts, consciousness, and being. He saw a blackened planet filled with destruction, and he saw himself laughing and frolicking amongst the death and despair. This wasn't Earth..it wasn't Hell, either. It was a place he created for himself. A world he had seen in his dreams. All of it collapsed in one swift motion, and the world opened up for him again. He was back home, in his bed, waking up just like every other day. He woke up and greeted his wife with a kiss to the cheek, and sat down for his normal breakfast. After he finished eating, he left the house and drove down his street to one of the main highways around his neighborhood. When he stopped at a red light, the same blood-red car approached him from the other side, and inside he saw Chayan. The look on his face was nothing but anger and rage. He motioned for Adam to park along the side of the road, and exited his car. Adam, too, left his car and greeted him.

"Look, I'm so---"

"I don't want to hear any of your excuses. I wanted him dead that night. You fucked up. You let my brother get caught by the cops and thrown in jail, accused of witnessing some gang war or something."

Adam was drawing blanks in his head. He could barely remember the night before.

"I didn't expect things would go that way. I had tried to get along with your brother, and we had something going except that he fucking drank too much. You didn't tell me he was such a hardcore alcoholic."

"That's not the fucking point here. You failed and now you have no chance of killing him before he can destroy yet another of my enterprises. I wouldn't head home for awhile. You might get charged with something you didn't do. You know, just like you did my brother. Hahahahaha! You're no assassin. If we were playing Cops & Robbers, you'd be the fucking pig here." He got back into his car and sped away. Adam was able to see the driver this time. The man wasn't human, he was just like the man in the wheelchair from his dream. Adam began to freak out, and raced home. He busted into his 2-story, generically-white home and found the entire place wrecked. "Elaine! Elaine!! Where are you?! Oh my God…Josh, Tommy, where are you?!" He checked downstairs, and the entire house had been torn apart in the few minutes he'd been gone. All of the toys had been thrown around, the TV kicked in and almost all of the windows had been wrecked. It was either a group of men who had busted into his house, or something inhuman, like the "thing" in Chayan's car. In the kitchen, pots and pans were strewn around. Knives were broken and wrecked beyond repair. The refrigerator was literally picked up, torn out of the sockets in the wall and thrown against the wall. No living thing was downstairs, so Adam booked it up to the next floor. In his master bedroom, he found his family. No possible picture of death could best describe what was racing through Adam's head.

"Oh honey, I am so sorry. I..I did this to you." He cradled his wife in his arms. Her arms had been ripped off her, and she had been very visibly raped. Her eyes were closed, and her body hung limp, what little there was of it. Adam's two sons were mauled beyond any recognition. The only way he could distinguish their bloody, torn bodies was their caps, both with their names on them. Both of them had been maimed, their skin ripped off of them and visible bullet holes in their legs. This..all of this. This wasn't done by a human. None of it was. What, God? What did I do to deserve this? I killed in Death's name, I did his bidding! Isn't that enough?! ISN'T IT ENOUGH?! He picked up his dead children and placed them side by side with his wife. He pulled the covers over them and kissed their foreheads, as if he had blessed them with a peaceful eternal sleep. He walked downstairs and sat down in a chair. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed. Not just any sort of regular sobbing, but something that had to be wrenched from his bitter soul and thrust forward into the limelight. He couldn't kill any more. He didn't like the way Fate had played out his cards. This wasn't what he wanted, or needed. This isn't the way life was supposed to be for him. A knock on the door jerked him from his destroyed state. He opened the door and found a gun waiting for him. A man on the other side, a man dressed in extravagant clothes, but wore a mask that was split down the middle in black and white. "The Banros family wishes to commend you for your hard work." The gun fired and left a permanent hole in Adam's forehead. The blood gushed out as his life was extinguished. The world was not yet done with Adam, though. He had another dream. In this dream, the same "thing" in the wheelchair visited him, but this time it spoke.

"I have a proposition for you." After he said that, his body faded in and out and then reappeared, standing upright. He was now donning a large black cloak that encompassed his body like some anime villain. His hood blocked out his face and head. All that could be seen were his eyes, which now changed colors as he spoke.

"I am Death. I am the one who you so took in vain as you killed and killed and killed again. You thought you were doing my bidding when you killed worthless people. Cab drivers. Small children. A man with Down syndrome. These people who you were paid vast sums of money to kill, and you never asked why. It's because, Adam, these people were all innocent. Had you asked why they needed to die, you would have understood that the people who were giving you money were using your abilities at THEIR leisure. You were a toy, a murderous little toy. That is your only use in this world. Your thirst for blood is never quenched. You hide behind a façade of a home, a wife, two children and on the occasion love to lie that you are homosexual. These lies, these illusions. They are not you. I can give you a choice. You can die right here and bathe in an existence that is fraught with regret, guilt, and an inescapable prison. Or, I can restore your life. I cannot bring back your family but I can let you have your revenge. I will give you the power to stop whatever lies in your path."

Adam floated in the void of the dream for a time. To him, it felt like ages before he could summon enough thought to respond, but in reality it was just a few seconds.

"I want to live. I want to get back at the bastard who killed him, and his fucked up brother too."

Death nodded, and flashed a running movie before him.

"I cannot bring you back to the time you were in. You remember those strange occurrences? Here is the result."

Adam understood what the future had to hold. Massacres, demons killing most of humanity, and one last city to protect them from the truth. He saw the world he had seen in his previous dream. He saw the ruined world that he would be injected into. Nothing would prepare him for the plunge into a place that, all around him, was death.

"There are people who are trying to resist the natural order. Humanity has lost and yet they refuse to accept their poor, tragic fate. I have failed time and time again to end them, to stop this foolish dance of death. The demons are not of my creation, however. They come from a place that I do not dwell nor do I have any connection to. For me to purge you of your sins, I need you to kill a certain person. Through trying to kill this person, you may be able to exact your revenge on the people who destroyed your life."

Another image appeared, of a man with shaggy brown hair, dressed in a detective's outfit with a strange mark on his left hand. "This man's name is Mark Goldstone. His Fate is to prevent the destruction of humanity. I want you to kill him and prevent him from ever protecting anyone. In him lies a power that will only continue to grow and expand. He has the potential to become the strongest being in the known universe. Fortunately, the demons aren't oblivious to this either. A man whom I cannot reveal knows exactly why Mark exists and is also trying to kill him. However, I don't really like him, and I want you to kill Mark first, by any means necessary."

Adam looked deep into Mark's eyes. Even in the image he saw the ferocity and ambition embedded in Mark's soul. This was not going to be an easy kill, it was going to be difficult. There was going to be blood shed on both sides before a victor would be proclaimed.

"Well, what is it you're going to give me to kill this cocky bastard?"

Death destroyed the image and instead materialized a sword out of the thin air in the dream. It's handle was ornately inscribed with strange symbols. The hilt had two sharp wing-like protrusions that angled upward and into the sword. The blade was ethereal, and it gleamed like a diaphanous crystal. When Adam grasped it, a strange wind erupted from the sword in black swirls of chaos and destruction. In that same moment, Death produced what looked to be a periapt. He hung it around Adam's neck.

"This will protect you from any mind games they may perform. The humans these days are quick, cunning, but the hybridized demons are of a whole other level. When you are in the real world, the demons will not recognize you. Because of this periapt, you will be invisible to their ministrations and activities. Before I let you go, I will show you a glimpse of the future should you complete your task."

Death once again summoned another movie, which showed the same ruined world. There was nothing but demons crawling over the land in the hundreds of millions. There was no humans, nothing resembling any of their structures nor of their society. The world seemed to be in a malevolent state of tranquility.

"You're asking me to supplement the downfall of my species? Haven't I done enough to the world?"

Death turned to him, fixing him with a cold stare. "If you're having second thoughts, I can make sure you are sent straight to Hell." Adam merely shook his head, and before he could close his eyes he was awake again. He was still in his house, only in his right hand he grasped the long, demonic blade. Around his neck hung the periapt. So God gave me a second chance. Or should I say Death? There's no God for me. Hahaha. I'm fucking glad to be alive.

Before leaving his house, Adam wanted to visit his family. He walked upstairs and found their now dusty corpses, now picked clean by the inevitable destruction of time. He was now in 2015. The future around him could be described as nothing but the apocalypse. Adam laughed at his predicament. "I am the harbinger of Death. I always will be. I will find Mark and I will kill him." He walked out of his house and saw that his car had been untouched all that time. There was still gas in the tank, so he started the car up and headed into downtown. Around him, carnage and death and the omnipresent feeling of twisted euphoria echoed in his thoughts and in his soul.

He never felt more alive.

Chapter 4: Apocalypse Now

"It's so amusing watching the ants move about as if they can really change their situation."

"Indeed. Like a stampede, we crush them underfoot with nowhere to run."

"Praying mantises are like the demons outside of these walls, children, they will devour you without any second thought. This is why you are here. Protection is key in this world, and you all will realize that soon enough." Marillia set down her teaching book as the children filtered out of her classroom. The school only housed about 150 kids, which was a sad state of affairs for the future of humanity. She taught biology to them, but everyone needed to be re-educated. She stood out amongst the crowd as someone who knew the nature of the world around them, outside of humans and demons and the petty war.

"All personnel report to the main plaza at once. We've picked up a hybrid."

Marillia's eyebrows peaked with interest, so she gathered her things and left the building.

"He's a heathen!!!" The crowd raged wildly at the sight of Mark in Jon's arms. Jon laid Mark on the ground and raised a hand for silence.

"If he was a heathen, he would have killed me when he became one of them. This man, this hybrid, saved my life and he could very well save the rest of us. I've never come across a hybrid such as him, he does not embrace the demon side within him as readily as the rest of the infected have."

The crowd still screamed at Jon and threw whatever they could at Mark's body. Rocks drew blood along Mark's head and sharp objects slashed open various patches of unprotected skin. None of this succeeded in waking him up, except that the mark on his arm glowed with an even more intense light. Jon knew that the demon inside of him was reacting to the hate and malevolence. Suddenly Mark cried out, though not of his own accord nor in his own voice.

"Do you all want to DIE?!" With the power of his voice, shockwaves of energy lashed outward and knocked over several inside the mob. Mark was still asleep, and as the shockwaves dissipated so too did his body's violent reaction. Everything that had just happened was borne from Mark's very soul. It did have a great effect, though, as the crowd quickly silenced themselves. Jon looked at Mark in shock, but realized that what just happened was a much better solution than anything else. He once again cradled Mark in his arms and as Jon walked towards the main facility in the center of town, he saw a flash of Marillia. Marillia used to be Jon's girlfriend, but because of the incident, they both had forgotten what it was like to love each other. He kept walking as she ran up to him.

"Is that..him? The hybrid?" She said in an exasperated manner. She obviously ran as fast as she could to witness the new "specimen."

"Yes, this human - yes, he's a human - was found a few hundred miles from here, in one of the neighboring cities. I'll tell you more when I get him to the Facility. The Mayor will want to know what he is, why he's here, and other such formal inquisitions." Jon added that last part in a heavily sarcastic tone. To him, the Mayor was nothing more than a figurehead meant to restore a sense of normalcy in the last human denizens on the planet. Much like how religion was re-established in the people, so was a government. Everything needed to be in an orderly manner for the people within the City to be tranquil. He entered the Facility only to be bombarded by questions that seemed impossible to answer: Where does he come from? Did you see what his demon form is? Does he kill in the same manner as everyone else? The nonsense spewed by humans. It's almost sickening. Why is this necessary information? At all? The main lobby looked like a scene out of a sci-fi novel. Every floor was bedecked in a strange glass-like material with lights underneath it to illuminate practically everything. Every surface was rounded, and chandeliers that were almost completely metallic featured plasma lights, emerald green light that provided a nice contrast to the extremely bright floor. The stairs winded their way up to the top of the building, each step also illumined by lights from below. He tried to explain to himself why he looked at this world so differently after such a short time, but was cut off when the Mayor appeared, grim as always.

He ushered Jon up the winding steps without a word. Every time he had come into contact with Jon it was as if he analyzed his every move, and questioned his every thought. This is the oppression our government has always given us. Why am I a target? I've bent over for this man - or pig, really, that would be more beneficial to his stature - more times that I can count. I deserve some form of respect. Jon shook his head to erase the thoughts from his mind, and continued walking up the staircase with Mark still in his arms. When they reached the top, Jon once again looked around, noticing that from up top there was a second ceiling which covered the lobby. The stairs wove around that wall and eventually formed the tower. From the very top, there hung an even larger chandelier. In small crevices around it, there was cameras with all sorts of heat sensors and other tools that surveyed the area. In the center of the chandelier was the same plasma light, only it was incased in thousands of glass diamonds. Every sudden zephyr inside the tower made the diamonds clink together, radiating beauty but also music. "Jon!" The Mayor yelled. Jon snapped back to reality and walked into the Planning Room. The room itself was only lit by a table in the center, which featured a map of the area but could also be zoomed out to show the entire planet if it had to. Others have said that the universe was in the palm of it's hand, waiting for someone to reveal it. Jon didn't believe in such bullshit. He walked towards the table, but not before laying Mark in a chair. No movement whatsoever brought Mark out of his hopefully-temporary coma. "So, this is him, huh?" The Mayor eyed Mark's figure and noticed the mark on his left arm. "That insignia, it's quite different from the others we've come across. Are you sure it's even real?" Jon waved his hand in agreement. "Yes, I'm pretty sure it's real. It glowed in the plaza, and if you start to slander him to any great detail, it will be sure to awaken for you." Jon said with insidiousness. The fat pig laughed at Jon's remark. "You know, I don't keep you around here for your smartass remarks, Jon. You've done well to bring such a lovely specimen here. You sure he isn't some demon bitch hellspawn? Maybe your eyes are failing you, but that symbol could also be a fucking birthmark." His fat shook as he let out another hearty laugh. "Sir, I really don't think you want to anger him. You won't be pissing off Mark, but the thing inside him will really begin to hate you." The Mayor ignored his advice and slapped Mark across the face. In reaction, Mark's hand flew up to the Mayor's throat, lifting him off the ground without Mark even moving from his spot. The pig grasped for breath but found nothing. "Mark, demon, whatever is controlling you, stop it! Your host will die if you do not stop right now!" A pall of fear began to hang over the room as Mark let go of the Mayor. He grasped for breath and massaged his sore throat. "You've let the Devil in here, Jon." The Mayor quickly left the room, leaving Jon to deal with Mark once again. "For someone who saved my life, you really do have a knack of being treated like Satan. Maybe you're a fallen angel….but no, this isn't a matter of religion. Your reason for being here is above and beyond anything else I could even begin to comprehend." Once again, the comatose Mark spoke. "I can tell you why I'm here, if you let Mark and I know why this world is like this."

Jon spoke in a hushed tone. He locked the door to the Planning Room so no one could overhear. He shut off the power to the table, and let the darkness overwhelm both of them. The only source of light came from Mark's left hand. It glowed as the demon inside of him listened.

"I'll tell you the full truth. I had to rush earlier, and for that I'm sorry. It's weird for me to be talking to a demon, you know. I didn't think any of your kind could physically talk to us. Every single one seems bent on killing us, eating us, and other grotesque actions. Around January 5th, 2007, strange occurrences had been happening all over the planet. It wasn't just wars, or people fighting, or strange murders. Unknown to most people, it began in the form of appearances. Apparitions were haunting people right and left. Suicides were astronomical in every country, even in places you'd least expect. Christians, Muslims, atheists, blacks, Jews, anyone…they were all being subjected to urges of suicide and vacations to Hell. This part is foggy to the rest of the City, and I can't explain why. Every piece of history before that day has been lost in the memories of the people. The only recollections are from books, as every magazine we find has been wiped clean. Some otherworldly force has kept us from remembering our past. Sure, some people will remember family, lovers, friends… but others will completely forget about the same exact things. I forgot my girlfriend, and now I don't have a clue why we even got together. We're nothing alike, we fight constantly, and I can't ever see myself marrying her. Hell, I'm surprised I even remember what love is! You can tell that none of us remember anything. Gifted few have pieced together our past in an amalgamation of events and wars and catastrophes. It does little to boost the spirits of the people, and restore order. We can say that everything is going to be fine, and then the next day someone ventures out and is horrifically slaughtered. His body is then plastered against the City walls. I fear I'm going on a tangent again. Anyways, after that day in 2007, "chaos" was the new catchphrase of world society. Though, for the next few years it wouldn't be so evident in the people or in mainstream culture. It was buried, mostly due to religious factions who used it as a sign of the End Times. 'The Rapture has come! All the sinners will pay for their evil!' They cried. You could say it was like that, but then why was it that all the good people died? Okay, that's an overstatement. Many people died, but a lot of them were people who thought they did nothing wrong to deserve that fate. Hypocrisy bred death, and ignorance as well. Those who hated most were the first to die, and then so did everyone else. Like dominoes, humanity was just one block away from total destruction. In 2012, we formed this City. We watched old news clips of people being ripped from their homes, dragged on the sidewalk by flying creatures going at immense speeds. They would eventually let go of the dead humans, but their bodies were burned and maimed beyond recollection. Between 2007 and 2012 I had been trying to save people. There were many houses burned in the catastrophe, so I rushed in and shielded small children and the old and the young alike from the chaos. I don't think of myself as a hero. This world doesn't have heroes. The only duality in this world is evil, and less evil. It's humorous to say that humanity is the lesser of two evils. We've been corrupt since the dawn of our existence. We're just getting some karmic comeuppance. In those years, a figurehead among the demons emerged. He, as you know, is my brother, now named Vitnos. His old name was Chayan. It means "life" in Hebrew. Ironic to me, though, that he would begin to kill so many. I had found out a little after he became this new entity that he had plotted to kill me for many years. Vitnos found out where I lived, and visited me once. He told me that I should have died when he wanted me to, and that my fate will be inescapable. Fuck, another tangent. I'm really tired, forgive me.

Vitnos did become a figurehead alright. My brother would kill entire cities, packed with millions of people, and not even give a passing glance to the fellow humans he slaughtered. When he came back a second time, and killed everyone in our family but me, he left me a phrase that has stirred something within me for a long time. 'When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back into you.' Even if it's a Nietzsche (yes, I looked him up. Some famous German philosopher. Whatever.) quote, I could understand what he meant. He had let himself be immersed by darkness, and every person he killed pulled him a little deeper into the abyss. Whenever I saw him on TV, though, it seemed as if he was a puppet. Every move he made was more like one a mannequin or test-dummy would do. The man next to him was the preacher you saw earlier. I can only remember the beginning of his name, but the rest catches in my throat. No one else can figure it out either. That man is really the true progenitor of the end of our species. He's not even human, too… the demon that's inhabited him found a home and molded itself to give the appearance of humanity. Maybe he thinks it's a trick to lure naïve humans into the embrace of death and despair. His angelic wings fell off long ago, believe me. To me, he is the reason that everything has happened. The very world we live in was created by his madness. My brother is nothing but a toy, a very powerful toy at that. When the City was built, we heard news that others had been built in the same fashion. Every single time one was built, though, the demons invaded and slaughtered all inside. They were herded into the field of death by the great shepherd, and from that there was no return. Our City has not been attacked full-on yet. I have no idea why. Even that army you said was headed this way, the one I saw on the horizon, has not even made it here yet. They fuck with our psyche, trying to get us to believe that things are okay, it's all a fucking trap. Since the beginning of this downfall, we began to develop new technologies at faster and faster rates. The plasma weaponry I carry is merely a fraction of what we've made to combat the growing threat. The demons themselves are rarely armored, so we stand a chance of being able to fight back in the event that the horde heads here. The Executioners won't rest until we're all dead, though. I'm sure of it. That still doesn't explain why they never come here, to bury the axe in our exposed neck and cut off any more resistance left for our kind. Like I said earlier, everything seems to be part of a much grander plan of attack on our species. As a demon, I don't think you'd understand very well. Mark would, though. Hell, I don't even know why I'm pouring all this out to you. You could probably shield his thoughts and he'd have no idea what I just told you. How is it that I can trust you? There's something about you that I can't put my finger on. Nevermind that for now, though, I've told you everything I can remember. You won't find a much better historian around here. Your turn, demon."

Mark was still comatose, but the demon growled in response. "Mark will learn all of this in time. Do not tell him suddenly, it will lead him down a path he is not ready to take. I am Astaroth, a "demon" from the other side. I come from Hell. It is not the same Hell described in the Bible, but merely a residence for beings like myself. I am not "angelic", nor am I "satanic." I crave flesh but I am selective. I will feed on humans I do not like, on demons that I do not like. Mark will become just like me in the near future. He may switch sides when you least expect it. You see, I control him much like a human controls it's pet. In Hell, I gazed upon this planet with much curiosity. My brethren did not want to bother with the place, so I took it upon myself to experience what it was like to coexist with humans. I am not to be confused with the creatures that plague your planet so. I am nothing like them. They have come here for another purpose, and their home is far different from my own. I too, do not know how they were created nor what they are going to do when they conquer this planet. Since it is my job to watch over humanity, I needed to have someone to dwell inside of. I chose Mark because his soul wasn't filled with happiness, but with despair. You see, he is gay and loved his best friend, but now his best friend is dead and I am left to pick up the pieces. I will complete him but not in the way he wanted so long ago. I am the anger, the rage, and the very embodiment of the urge to destroy inside of Mark. I awaken when he is filled with rage against the beings around him. You will not label me as a "good" presence, nor am I evil, as I have stated before. I choose for what is best for Mark, and I will take over his body at any time I wish. I really do not like being kept inside of this body, you know. It is my penance on this planet, given to me by beings far above my status. The symbol on Mark's left arm is the entrance to this world for me to come out whenever I please. Whenever it glows, I am awake and letting the tendrils of my power latch out to the world around me. I dislike my "brothers" who have come from other areas of the universe, they have taken this world and made it their sandbox. That is not how we are supposed to inflict our will. Many of them I could probably recognize, but their existence has been twisted by whomever is controlling them. In my world, God does not exist and neither does Satan. We live in the higher plane. In our words, we are "the Watchers", "the Guidance", or "the Path to Reunion." In the universe we corral planets into following the path to becoming us. It seems some of your kind believe in a God and righteousness, which I cannot change. Beliefs throughout the universe are stronger than you might think. I cannot say much more. I am a being who believes in brevity when applied to speech. I can answer any questions you might have, Jon Banros. You may think you are Mark's Guardian, but you are no more a Guardian than the Mayor. I will make him leave this place if the slander continues. I will kill them all and save Vitnos the trouble if I have to. You would do well to heed my words."

Jon didn't move throughout Astaroth's speech. It took him some time before Jon could mumble out a question. "Can you explain why Mark became comatose after you entered this world?" Astaroth laughed. "It is because he cannot survive the immense power that I wield through him. It puts an enormity of strain upon his body and soul every time I enter this world. Eventually he will be able to cope with the stress, and maybe even be able to see what's going on through his own eyes while I slaughter those who oppose me. If I stayed in this world too long, it would drive Mark insane. I cannot have that, I need a stable body to inflict my wrath."

Jon absorbed the information for a moment before asking another question.

"Will Mark ever be able to tame you?"

Astaroth was quiet for a few minutes. Those minutes felt like hours to Jon. "There have been cases where the being our kind dwells within overpowers and gains control over his demonic side. I am not worried that Mark will do this, though. His will has been far too damaged by the world around him for that to happen." So, the best part of all the information I've just learned is that the demon dwelling inside of Mark is a cocky motherfucker. Of all the types… there has to be a way to make that demon Mark's bitch, though. He has to become a weapon. "Will you be our weapon against your own kind, Astaroth?" Jon asked.

"Yes and no. I will not kill unless it poses a serious threat to either Mark or myself. However, I may just kill if I'm hungry. A side effect of having such an immense power is that you treat the world around you like a dog-eat-dog cannibalistic endeavor. I feed to keep my own soul from decaying. This place weakens me by the day. It's much like being compressed into a space that you can't fit into, or in your terms, like being crushed in a vice. Every ounce of pressure added is agony, sheer agony. This world is much like that. I can probably venture to say that it is the same for the others that have come here. You should be lucky, I will not need to feed for at least a few days after that incident you dragged Mark into. You really need to be out training, Jon. There are times going to be times when I cannot help Mark. I know this because the other demons will find or maybe have already found ways to keep the beast inside tame. However, enough talk. You do want to talk to Mark again don't you? He's had enough rest." The voice faded at the exact time the illumination did. The mark became the same pitch black it had always been, ingrained into Mark's hand. Jon forgot one question, he realized. What is that tattoo making its way up Mark's arm? The one that caused him so much pain? He won't come out of this alive. The demon will kill him.

Mark awoke in a bed outside of the Facility, and it was the first time he had felt safe in a long time. His room was obviously in a makeshift hospital. On the wall were pictures of happy children and happy adults all talking about eating different foods to live longer, or to avoid certain indulgences. The pain along his left hand and arm were close to searing, even the painkillers were not enough to reduce it to a dull throb. It wasn't so much that he couldn't think, though. He idly massaged his arm and felt something inside of him react violently, which threw him back into the bed screaming in pain. Jon wasn't around him and neither was anyone else. He slowly moved his body off of the hospital bed, which resulted in even more agony. Mark walked towards the door and opened it. Obviously a young nurse was just about to enter at the same time. She wore the typical nurse uniform, all in white with a strange hat on. She had vibrant dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes. She was slim for her apparent age (which wasn't too old to begin with) and she seemed to fill the room with a feeling of peace and happiness. "Well, it seems you're finally up." She finally said. Mark's words caught in his throat, it'd been a long time since he last spoke. "Yeah, how long was I out?" He replied. She pointed to a calendar, with several X's counting down the day since he was brought in and when he woke up. Only a week, but it felt like an eternity. "Is this the last City?" He asked. She nodded and also pointed to a picture that seemed to say that it was a beautiful place filled with bright, happy people. Mark knew, from some strange sort of instinct, that this was not true. Even this nurse was too happy to be real. "You're a nurse. I'm in a hospital. I'm Mark, by the way. Who're you?" She blushed, for some reason. "My name is Brittany, but you can call me Brit for short. You were actually in here for only four days. Jon said you'd wake up soon but for some reason you just wouldn't. I marked a week because Jon found you three days before you were brought in here. We don't really know what day it is, everyone asks but we no longer have up-to-date calendars. The one I pointed out to you is about 10 years old. I just used it to record your stay. We are in the year 2015, I can assure you of that." He looked at her and smiled. She's delightfully ditzy. Just what I need when I wake up in the End Times. "I should probably call Jon and let him know you're awake. Don't be surprised if the entire City comes out to greet you, though. They're all freaking out. I honestly don't know why. You seem nice enough." She walked down the hall. Mark sat down in his bed and reminisced. Andrew would have liked to have met her. He's dead now, though. They all are. My memories, my past, and maybe even my future. I'm alive but I don't know why. I don't know enough yet to understand my purpose in this place. If I have a purpose, why didn't Andrew? Why did God let this world fall apart, anyways? He stood back up again, the pain had lessened in his arm ever since he was able to do something other than laying in bed. Mark walked down the hallway that Brittany went, and ended up in the hospital entrance. She ran back to him and seemed positively delighted, which was probably normal for her.

"Okay, so, Jon is coming here but you should be careful about the crowd. The people of this place are really, like, reactionary. Some of them are even like out for your head, ya know? Anyways, I have some stuff I have to do. Bye!" She could have blown me a kiss and the effect would have been complete. He turned and looked around. The hospital was a strange shade of red almost everywhere. Maybe it symbolized the blood shed in these past few years, Mark didn't know. The carpet was textured in a strange manner, probably to prevent cases of rug burn or some other shit. He asked the hospital lobbyist if he could get something to eat. She pointed towards a fridge that was built into the wall. He slid the glass door open, but something halted him from grabbing something to eat. Visions of the humans stuck inside the freezers, body parts chopped up to fit between each deck of goods. He shook his head and grabbed a pair of chips along with something to drink. Every sense of needing to use the bathroom rushed at him at once. He stuffed the drink and food inside his jacket (all the while noticing that his clothes had been changed into a loose-fitting gray shirt with brown pants and a denim jacket) and headed towards the bathroom conveniently placed in the middle of the lobby. Once again, visions of the creature who assaulted him in the bathroom of the store flashed before him. It didn't do anything to stop him from fulfilling nature's call, though. While sitting on the pot, he noticed in a mirror that was hung in the stall that his features had changed. He looked older, and for a split-second he saw an apparition casting it's gaze onto his soul.

Mark left the bathroom and found Jon waiting with him. Outside the hospital a crowd had already gathered. "I guess I've become a celebrity in this place, huh?" Jon stared back at him, almost tempted to spill what Astaroth said to him. "Err….yeah. You are. We've never encountered a hybrid who didn't eventually become just like the other demons. Before we head out there, though, are you alright? You were out for a lot longer than I thought."

"I'm fine, Jon. That rest really took the wind out of my sails, though. I need to go out there and feel alive. I can brave whatever this City can throw at me."

They both walked outside and the crowd positively exploded in noise and anger. The crowd threw insults at Mark from right and left and they also threw real objects that Mark had to duck and evade. Jon was afraid that Mark would grow angry from this barrage of slander and maliciousness. He kept calm, though, which surprised Jon. Soon enough, the duo found themselves in the middle of the city, enjoying the sun as it sank below the horizon with every passing hour. Mark looked around. The City itself looked like the spitting image of San Francisco. It's foundations were on a huge slope that created many long, winding streets that headed downward into the "ocean." It was ironic because the City was surrounded by land except for a distant lake to the east. Every building was white except for the residential district which consisted mostly of hues of brown and yellow. The streets were paved with generic concrete, but hastily done. Cars didn't exist as technology created flying ones, so transportation was never a problem. He saw an immense tower, one that read "Facility" in front of it, and seemed to stretch for at least 40 floors. It looked like a pillar of intense light, energy, and holiness, all in one. It's peak pointed towards the heavens. The place was large for housing only a small fraction of humanity. Mark turned to Jon after taking in the sights.

"I wanted to thank you for taking me here, Jon. If you left me I probably would have been killed."

Jon replied in a cocksure tone. "I really don't think you would have. However, you're welcome. This place won't seem too great to you after a while though. There are some real nasty figures that have gained positions of power." Mark nodded, and watched the sunset fade away. The skies were filled with the color of blood mixed with orange juice as the sun made sure that everyone knew it was leaving. "What am I supposed to do here, Jon? I don't fit in here, I don't think I ever will." Jon looked over at Mark and saw that he was deep in contemplation. "I don't know the answer to those types of questions. Fate never explains it's machinations. It leads you down a path that is unknown even to the wisest of men."

Chapter 5: Advent of Astaroth

"Can Astaroth really control that human?"

"I have no clue. He's well regarded in their ranks. I'm sure he can manipulate one, weak human."

Mark spent the next day learning of his new home and the people around him. Before he could properly wake up, the Mayor barged into his room with a list of demands. This became more of a routine than anything.

"Mark! I need you to come to the Facility Information Center immediately! We must register you as a denizen of the city. It helps us remember who we all are. Not that you really need to know the others, half-demon."

He laughed his pig-like laugh and left the room. Mark rubbed his eyes and put some clothes on. Since he woke up from his "coma", he was forced to wear generic clothing that everyone in the city wore. A drab gray shirt and pants, with a belt buckle that had holsters for weaponry and other nonsense was the norm. Every day, Mark could feel the oppressive nature of the city, as it felt more like a tomb or a prison than any other. He walked outside of the residence he was assigned to, and saw Jon and a woman walking side-by-side, talking almost animatedly.

"Hey Jon!" He hoped he didn't interrupt their exciting discussion.

"Oh..hey Mark." Jon sounded like he was caught off-guard. "This is Marillia. She's a friend of mine, and unfortunately she's one of the few people in this city who trusts you. It took a lot of convincing, too."

She blushed a little bit, but held out her hand.

"Nice to meet you Mark." They both shook hands while she continued to speak.

"Jon told me that you're a hybrid. We've seen your kind before, but they quickly were consumed by their demon side. I used to be a scientist in charge of each one as they were filtered into our society. Unfortunately, an accident occurred and they all broke free. We lost hundreds of people before we were able to kill the escapees. It's nothing new, though. In this world, injuries like broken bones are the new paper-cut. People have been maimed because of hybrids such as yourself … excuse me, I'm coming off a bit rude. I'm sure you're different, really! Anyways, I know you both have business to attend to … and so do I. I'll see you both later." Her voice was tinged with embarassment and possible sadness.

"Jon, I have to go to the Information Center. Could you show me where that is? I'm still gettin' used to this town and all." Jon nodded and they both walked off toward the Facility. Mark could see the depression in Jon's eyes, but he didn't press the matter.

The Facility loomed overhead like a steel God, but it was Mark's first time actually seeing the monolith. He couldn't guess how many stories high it was. White and gleaming, it's height could point the way to Heaven. Jon directed Mark somewhat east of the Tower part of the Facility.

"Yeah, I was in awe of the Tower when I first saw it too. It took a lot of manpower to build the thing, but I still say it's more of a giant bullseye for whomever wants to eradicate us. All they have to do is knock the fucker over and we'll be crushed like ants." Jon remarked. The Info Center was completely dwarfed by the Tower, it's stark white paint reflected even more sunlight than the Tower did. All the windows surrounding it were barred like a prison cell. Both the Tower and the Center ran along the long winding road that spun around the city, connecting all of it's inhabitants to every area they needed to go. Mark noticed that south of the Tower was a giant plaza where many people gathered to sell goods and barter. It's all from a bygone age. Everything. Giving it a glossy coat of paint and maybe some newfangled technology can't erase the fact that this place is out of the fucking past. The event not only erased their memories but sent most of us back into the Dark Ages. Wait … how do I know all of this? Mark shook his head and walked into the Center. The lobby reminded him of a bank. On the first floor there were staircases leading up and down, and "tellers" that lined part of the walls. All of them were busy at a computer entering information into a database. Jon urged Mark towards a woman on the far left. He recognized her as the nurse from before. However, this time she was more robotic than friendly.

"Hello there. I am Jacqueline Solidos. How can I be of service?"

"I assume you remember who Mark is. He's here to be entered into the database."

Her robotic façade shattered when she noticed Mark in the room.

"We meet again!" She beamed that same smile.

"Yeah. Hey." He half-waved while she continued to smile.

"So, how are you liking the City?"

"I was almost killed by a hateful crowd ...and the Mayor obviously hates me. I don't know how I get such a bum rap."

She laughed. "Yeah, he's like that sometimes. It's probably because he's such a fatass!"

Jon cleared his throat a little too loudly. Jacqueline leaped a little out of her seat.

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot. Alright, let me open a terminal window. Hmm, okay. M-A-R-K G-O-L-D-S-T-O-N-E. Class: Hybrid. Age….how old are you, Mark?"

He realized that he hadn't revealed much to any of them about himself.

"Oh...well. Shit. I guess I forgot to tell you guys anything about me. I'm 23 years old. I used to be a detective before the cataclysm. I had a partner, a one Andrew Jennings. He's 37 years old. You should probably add him in there too, I have no idea if he's really, or truly dead but if I was able to survive surely he did. I don't know where he is or anything. He's also a detective. I'm proficient in firearms and knife-fighting, and I was born in Portland, Oregon."

Jacqueline typed at lightning-speed while entering in all of the information.

"We're very thorough when it comes to detailed descriptions of people. You seem to remember a lot more than any of us do. Are you sure there isn't anything else that we should, like, know?"

Mark looked down at his feet. "I used to be a whore on the streets when I was a child. My parents disowned me because I'm homosexual. I'm 5'11'', 170 pounds. I have blue eyes and brown hair."

Jon and Jacqueline stared at Mark while he gazed at his feet. The familiar tapping of her keyboard and that of the other tellers were the only noise to be heard.

Jon and Mark left the Center after an hour or so talking with Jacqueline. She told them to visit the Arena. Mark looked at Jon quizzically after they left.

"What's the Arena?" Mark asked.

"It's just that, an arena. We use it to train soldiers and prepare them for future assaults on our city. It really doesn't help that much compared to the threat we're faced with, but it's better than nothing." Jon said.

"So why did she tell us to go here? What business do we have here?"

"There's a position for a hybrid that hasn't been filled in yet. Your hidden powers will give us some practice when faced with ever-decreasing odds of survival. That is, if you don't kill anyone." His voice was stilted and animated, just like how he talked to Marillia.

"Jon, is there something wrong? You've been sort of distant since the Center. I told you both the truth. That's how my life used to be."

Jon stopped walking.

"It's what you and Marillia represent. Both of you are ripped out of a time before this bullshit. Marillia reminds me of when I felt love. I don't even remember when I felt it! You remind me of the frivolity and fun that my life was like before. I can't remember when I felt that either. I know it all occurred and that it's buried deep inside of me. Both of you are so out of place that I can't take it. I want to be able to know and remember all that you two do. She remembers when we were in a relationship. I don't, at all. She remembers when I used to be a fun person, with a loving family. I don't. I can put names to pictures but they don't mean anything! The history, the past, all of it is necessary to put meaning to people and events!"

Mark didn't know how to respond to that. How do I represent frivolity and fun? I poured my soul out to him and Jacqueline, and it was filled with despair and pain. Maybe… maybe he feeds off of it. I've heard of people like him before. Depressed beyond recognition, their world turned upside down. Happiness is the devil, and sadness is the ultimate bliss.

The Arena stood before them almost like a Roman Coliseum. In fact, it was perfectly shaped like one. The only difference was that it was covered by a dome and there was lights embedded in between every row of seats and a luminescent globe sat in the middle. Inside of that globe was a large platform used for the actual fighting. Mark had no idea what the globe was used for. He then saw someone catapulted into it and electrocuted. It sure wasn't enough to kill the man, but it looked like it hurt. Barbarism… wait. I swear someone else is saying these things in my head for me. He stared at the fight but tore his eyes away as he heard Jon's voice.

"Mark..hey Mark! You there? We have to register you, that is, if you want to compete."

Mark nodded, but it wasn't of his own volition. Something else was urging him to go in there, and he still couldn't figure out what. The manager was a man in his 40s. He looked Japanese, and a nametag on his vest said his name was Tsume. On his back was an overly large sword that radiated the same plasma green as Jon's spear did. It was probably made out of some sort of alloy. No regular person would be able to heft such a blade if it wasn't. His Japanese accent was thick, but he could speak fluent English.

"Mark. You are registered for the third match. Word around these places is that you are a hybrid. If you kill anyone, I will make sure that you are dead as well." He grasped the hilt of the sword as if it was some sort of confirmation. He pointed to an exit that was to his right. "Down there is the locker room. We prohibit any extra weaponry, so no knives or pistols." He smiled at Mark. That database must be sent to everyone. Are there any secrets in this place? Mark headed down the stairs, prepping himself for the match to come.

Mark looked around the locker room. He saw leather wrist braces for bare-knuckle fighting and fastened them to both wrists. The room smelled like sex and the pungent musk of men. He ignored it, but something caught his eye. He turned around and saw a figure, enshrouded in darkness but the figure's outline was illuminated by a faint blue light. Let me take over from here. I will not kill anyone. I will direct your movements. The blue light disappeared and his left arm began to sear with pain. He looked down and saw the same blue light begin to emanate from the symbol buried in his skin. His vision became blurred, and soon he could only make out slight details in his surroundings like heat and distinct lighting. Everything was shaded blue, while heat became a stunning red-white. He headed up the opposite stairs and found himself in the middle of the globe in the middle of the Arena. Squinting, he saw Jon, Marillia, and Jacqueline in the stands sitting next to each other. They all stared at him, but he could tell it wasn't his figure that shocked them. It was his glowing blue eyes and the lines of blue streaking across his skin like mummy wrap. His body soon became more of a puppet being controlled by strings. He assumed a fighting stance in the left side of the Arena. A loud voice blared from speakers surrounding the place.

"WE HAVE A SPECIAL FIGHT TONIGHT, MEMBERS OF OUR GLORIOUS CITY! WE HAVE FOUND A HYBRID FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT! He is different from the others. He's still human!! HAHAHA!!" As he laughed, so did the onlookers. Jon and company still remained in awe.

"Are any of our brave soldiers man enough to take on Mark? Anyone? Come on. He's nothing but a genetic piece of trash! He can be defeated!"

The pain in Mark's arm grew more intense with each comment. After several minutes of slander, a man entered from the right side of the globe. He carried a giant bat that was about a foot thick with ridges carved into it. The sheer size of it could crush a man's skull in twain. A voice burst out of Mark's lips but it wasn't his own.

"There was a no-weapons rule here. Why the FUCK do you get one?!"

The crowd gasped, even the man facing him stuttered before answering.

"Ts-ts-ts-ume told me to. He said th-th-that faggots like you should be erased."

"I didn't say that I was Mark you filthy, repugnant human. Oh well, I guess every dog has his day."

The man turned a shade of red, even the tips of his ears were blood-red. The fear and embarassment turned into anger and hate.

"You can't f-f-fool me! I will crush all faggots in this city!!" He ran forward and took a large swing at Mark's head, hoping to finish it in one strike. Instead, Mark stopped the large man's arm with one hand. So this guy is large, muscular, and dumb. He puts all his force into the one killing blow. I bet this guy has one many fights with this tactic. Why would Tsume use such an idiotic pet against me? Mark continued to let Astaroth fight for him. Mark's right knuckle buried itself in the man's groin, making the man exhale a large volume of breath before collapsing. He then aimed a kick at the man's face, sending him sprawling to the other side of the platform. Mark resumed his fighting stance, and waited for the larger man to get up. After some time, the idiot used his large beating stick to leverage his weight upward. He eventually stood upright and turned towards Mark. Mark stared at him, his blue eyes glowing even more intensely. He looked around and saw that the Globe had become electrocuted once again. The noise of the Arena was drowned out as soon as this happened. The only sound that could be heard was the heavy breathing of the larger man. In a shorter amount of time than Mark expected, the larger man ran towards him and grabbed him by the neck. He then flung Mark across the other side of the arena with a surprising amount of force. Mark picked himself back up and parried a blow to his face. As he did so, the idiot brought the mace down upon his back. The pain reverberated through Mark's body, and he lay on the ground twitching. No. The large man picked Mark up and flung him into the Globe. The electricity hurt even worse than his back did as it fried his entire body. In the pain, though, he felt power. This ends now. His right arm changed into something demonic as the electricity wrapped around him. His hand became rough, leathery, and blue-gray. His shirt ripped open as a blade extended from it. The blade ran up the length of his forearm and rested in between his second and third knuckle. It was white with blue indentations along the blade. He finally fell from the edge of the globe onto the platform. He lay there, waiting for the imbecile to try and attack him while he was down. As the man ran towards him, Mark swung his legs around and caught him off-guard, sending the fool crashing into the platform. Mark stood up and then drove the blade deep into the man's gut. Blood issued freely from the impaling as he drove it deep inside of him.

"How do you like the pain, idiot? Do you want to die? I can be your executioner." The globe lost all electricity and the sounds of screaming and wrath surrounded Mark as he dislodged the blade. The blood dripped down onto the platform from it, and he brought the weapon to his lips and licked the blood. He then saw Tsume, Jon, Marillia, and Jacqueline rushing onto the platform. Tsume had his sword drawn, the green glow increasing in strength as he yelled at Mark. Every sound mixed together like white noise as Mark licked the blood off the blade.

Stop it! Get out of my body!!

What? I can't enjoy myself?

I don't even know who you are!

Oh, Mark, you're no fun.

Get out!!

A surge of energy erupted from Mark's hand and his eyes. His hands dropped to his sides as his chest surged outward. His cries of agony echoed around the Arena as people began to run for their lives. Tsume ran forward to try and stop him, but energy exploded out of Mark's body and obliterated the Globe and half of the Arena. Mark's scream could be heard for miles around.

The sun beat down on the City. Mark awoke once again in the hospital, with Jacqueline again doting on him. "You're awake…" She said in a dull, uninspired tone. She looked at Mark with fear.

"What's wrong? What happened? What did I…do?" Mark asked.

She looked at him briefly before turning away.

"You destroyed half of the Arena. For some reason nobody was killed in the ensuing blast. Many people were hurt, some even severely." She was solemn, and even echoed her robotic alter-ego. "Jon and Marillia have come by to check up on you. Tsume did too, but he tried to kill you while you were asleep. That demon inside you sent him flying into a wall, though. You're dangerous, Mark. That thing inside of you could kill any one of us if it didn't like us. You have no control over it, do you?"

Mark shook his head.

"I…I honestly didn't. It told me that it would handle the fight, and so I let it. I didn't know who it was. It spoke in a convincing tone and my body responded in submission. It seems that people have it out for me in this city, though. You do know Tsume sent in that idiot to kill me, right?! There was supposed to be no weapons allowed, and instead he'd rather twist the rules to fuel an agenda against me and people like me. I never expected people like him to exist in such a destroyed world. We shouldn't be trying to kill each other because of preferences or of different beliefs. Hell, I don't even feel anything for other people anymore. I don't give a fuck about humans if this is how I'm treated."

Jacqueline looked at him, but nodded her head.

"I don't know why I'm so happy all the time. We're all gonna..gonna die anyways. There's no point to even being here sometimes. I just want it all to stop!" She let out a few wracked sobs. Mark sat up and cradled her in his arms.

"There's no point in crying either. It won't make things go away. Just..let's go outside and see if I'm going to be arrested or something."

He let go of her and leapt out of bed. He put some clothes and rubbed his left arm. The pain was definitely decreasing, and the tattoo trailing up his arm hadn't changed any since last time. Jacqueline followed him outside of the hospital. In front was another crowd of angry, hateful people. He saw Jon and Marillia talking to the Mayor. As always, the Mayor was furious ..or indignant, you can't really tell. He rushed over to Mark, as fast as his lard would take him.

"Mark! How could you?! You destroyed a major part of the city!" His jugular vein bulged and throbbed as he expected an answer.

"I…don't know how or why I did it, sir. You should tell your underlings not to try and kill me next time!"

The Mayor leered at him, before storming off.

Jon and Marillia walked over to him.

"Looks like you've really won over the city, Mark!" Jon remarked sarcastically.

"You are very unique, Mark." Marillia commented. "I would much like to study what makes you emanate such power." Her eyes were filled with intrigue.

Jon cut her off before she could go any further.

"Mary, you probably don't want to unnerve him like that. You might set him off again." Jon again replied sarcastically.

"Both of you, calm down. I'm me. There's no voices in my head right now telling me to violently murder any of you. Can I just get some peace and quiet by myself? I need to get away from the crowd and just be by myself for awhile. Maybe the constant attention is stressing me out." He walked off as he finished his sentence. Jacqueline, Jon, and Mary watched him for a time before heading off toward a café.

The nightlife of the City brought out it's best features. Parades and dances were held up and down the main street. Echoes of a happier time. The people ignored him for the most part, which was a blessing. He hoped he went into a town where he was more unknown than hated. There was rampant prostitution, but it seemed that everyone was cautious about STDs and used protection. It was more instinctual though, because if there was an STD epidemic here, there would be no one left. He turned around and saw giant lights coming out from the top of the Tower. They looked more like the large signals that were used to guide airplanes to the proper landing strip. He put his hands in the front pockets of his hoodie (which he casually stole from the hospital, it was a cold night out). His breath came out in large white clouds as he stared at the night sky.

"Nice night."

Mark spun around and saw the same blue figure.

"What are you doing here?!" Mark asked.

"My, aren't we testy? I'm enjoying the night much like you are."

"You almost got me ostracized from this place. This is the only home I have left and you ruined it. Who are you? What do you want? Why are you inside of me?!"

"I can't answer those questions for you. The answers are not necessary at this point and time. Yes, I got a bit out of control. Believe me, I was doing it to save your life. You can show a little respect. If I had let you go out there without any help, that homophobic idiot would have killed you."

"I didn't ask for you to take over my body. I didn't ask for you to hurt people. I may not give a shit about anyone, but that doesn't mean I want to inflict more pain than they are already suffering from!"

"That's the thing. You are so reluctant to face the facts. It's not just me that wanted to kill that man. It was you, Mark. You wanted to make him pay for insulting you so. You wanted to make them all pay. I merely enhanced that urge. I brought it to the surface with my power."

"That's not true. I control my own actions!"

"That's where you're wrong. I control your actions. You submit to me and everything will be okay. Do you want more to happen, just like the Arena? Your resistance against me will destroy this entire City. You can kill them all in one burst of anger towards me. It won't rid yourself of me. It will make things worse for you. Keep that in mind. Also, I want to borrow you again for a side trip. Don't worry, I won't hurt anyone. It is for both of us. I want to understand and know the people that are around us. Don't you? They know you, and you should know them."

Mark allowed Astaroth to take over his body again. The familiar blue film of light and vision became a pall over his sight. His left hand seared in familiar pain, but it was bearable. Mark put his left hand in his hoodie to hide the light. He continued to walk but instead turned down the main street toward the Information Center. He passed by the Arena. In his mind, he made a mental map of the City. The area where he was at, which eventually lead to an observation deck that you could see the rest of the City from, was west of the Arena and at a higher elevation. The Arena itself was in ruins, and he could see people rebuilding it, but from the looks of things it wasn't doing much good. Tsume spotted him from the outside and gave him a death glare. He then saw the glowing blue eyes and began to draw his sword. "Get away from here, faggot! What makes you think you can come back here and just ignore me?!" Mark continued to walk forward down the path. Tsume realized that Mark didn't hear anything he said. He gave up following him and resumed overseeing the reconstruction. Remember, don't give anyone the impression that you're doing anything suspicious. I will temporarily leave your body when we enter the Information Center. You must do the work from there. I will come back when you've snuck past the tellers. Mark opened the door to the Center and stepped in. Most of the people working there were getting ready to leave as their shift was almost over. He got strange stares as he walked toward the front desk.

"Hi, I was wondering where your restroom is? I really gotta go, and I don't think there's any that are close."

One of the tellers responded cordially, yet slightly disdainfully, "It's downstairs and to your right."

Mark thanked the teller and walked downstairs. Showtime. Mark's eyes glowed blue again and he let his body walk in some random direction. He assumed this was towards the main database. Suddenly he was flung behind a wall as a guard walked by, a giant M16 cradled in his arms. For a place with no secrets, why is the truth guarded so well? He walked behind the guard quietly and tiptoed down another hallway. Several hallways and close calls later, he was at an elevator with a large security panel that required a code. Put in the numbers 5 0 6 7 and then A D. Mark was surprised that he was given so much freedom, but he obliged. The elevator door opened and Mark stepped inside. As they closed he caught a glimpse of some strange white figure darting around. He ignored it as the elevator began to descend. It must have reached down several meters before the very bottom. The doors opened and Mark walked into a large room. On all sides were computers and machinery lining the walls. This is the future that has been hidden. Every possible technological advancement up to that point had been stored here. Every nook and cranny was high-tech and streamlined for ease of use. There was no one down there with him. Let me guide your fingers. Astaroth began to type for Mark. He watched as Astaroth called up several profiles. The first was Jon. It read:

"Jon Banros

Age: 45

Profession: Soldier

Background: Born into a family of six. One brother is now serving the enemy. Family was slaughtered in the incident. Seems to have a connection with a one Marillia Zycline. Previous existence is unknown.

Mental Status: Severe depression.

Job Status: Will be reprimanded for bringing a one Mark Goldstone to the City. Reprimanding includes a deployment to the remnants of New York City to survey the area for possible threats."

I already know most of this, next.

Astaroth moved to another window.

"Marillia Zycline

Age: 33

Profession: Ex-Scientist

Background: Born into a well-to-do family, has no siblings. Seems to have a connection with a one Jon Banros. She purposefully set free a group of hybrids to wreak havoc on the City. She was punished for this by severe torture.

Mental Status: Psychotic

Job Status: She knows the most about hybrids out of the entire workforce, but her unstable mental condition is a problem. She is to be killed within the next week."

Dear..God…

Astaroth moved to another window.

"Jacqueline Solidos

Age: 22

Profession: Information Center Clerk, Nurse

Background: Family is unknown. A bright, promising young girl who aspires to be just as useful as everyone else. She is doing well, and I admit that I have taken a liking to her. Definitely a keeper.

Mental Status: Normal

Job Status: Keep her around, maybe breed her for some prostitution."

Sick, sick bastard.

The ground shook as a large explosion rang through the City. Mark leapt to his feet as Astaroth took a backseat inside of his soul.

They've come. Let's go.

Mark rushed to the elevator and headed up to the top floor. Every passing second could mean more death. The elevator came to a halt and Mark burst through. Every guard and personnel inside the Center had fled towards the source of the explosion, so Mark had no obstacles getting outside. He opened the Center doors and saw chaos outside. The Tower was on fire and several beams of multiple colors were headed toward it, burning holes in the metal and dislodging chunks of the infrastructure to rain down on the helpless civilians. Screams of pain could be heard everywhere as Mark ran as fast as he could toward the Gate.

The City itself had two exits to prevent the possibility of being smoked out from one side. However, it didn't prevent the idea of a pincer movement. Both sides of the Gate were being flooded by demons. The pavement of the road became a blur as he ran towards the growing crowd of guards and soldiers at the Gate. He could see Jon with his plasma spear at the ready, trying to keep the doors sealed. Many flying demons flew over the barricade and picked off helpless humans one by one. In the darkness he could see what they looked like. The majority of them were just overgrown bees with large, disjointed wings and giant, curved stingers that could impale a human and rip out every single organ in it's body. Mark caught up to Jon and helped him fight off several demons that were beginning to flood the streets.

"Mark? Where'd you come from?!" Jon yelled as he drove his spear straight into an undead human face.

"Oh, you know, around! Let me take care of this! You go to the other Gate!"

Jon yelled even louder than before. "Are you a fucking madman? You'll get killed!"

"Just do I what I say, dammit! Get everyone out of here and go!" Mark screamed.

As Jon rallied his forces to leave the area, the demons turned towards him and let out shrieks of an unintelligible nature.

My poor, misguided brethren.

This is where your resting place will be.

Mark's body became encased in deep blue as his body was given up to Astaroth. As the power swept over him, his clothes were destroyed and a new body came forth. Bathed in a glowing blue light, a scaly, yet hardened blue-gray being came forth. In one hand a blade extended outward, long and deadly. In the other, the tip of Mark's index finger became a hole from which energy was forming into a sort-of energy gun. The mark on Astaroth's body glowed intensely. His legs became rough and layered with muscle. Mark's hair disappeared as Astaroth's bald blue head came to the surface. Two horns grew from his forehead and arched backwards along his skull. His teeth became longer and more defined. His voice became deep and hoarse, filled with emotion and power. Mark was no longer around… it was Astaroth that stood in his wake. Filled with an infinite supply of power, he let his rage be known.

Twilight Chapter 6: End of Innocence

"Freedom, it's nothing but a false dream."

"Don't forget, brother. Being given too much of it could mess up our plan."

"I doubt it. You're too paranoid."

"Or maybe you're not paranoid enough."

Khalon sped across the dusty plain enjoying the nice weather. Above him, there was not a single cloud formation, and the sun provided the kind of warmth he had always wanted in his human existence. He had been traveling for days, letting his miniature wings provide quick and easy transportation. He hadn't had any dreams like the one from before, which he had begun to forget anyways. This place is paradise. I don't want to leave this wilderness, nor the beauty inherent with it. However, it is true that all things must come to an end. I haven't eaten for days … I'm craving for some fresh meat. Any meat he found was small, and barely took the edge off. Rabbits and wolves would not suit his hunger for long. Today would be different, however. In the distance he spotted a river, which led over a cliff and became a raging waterfall. He somehow managed to stop his acceleration before plunging headfirst into the river. His gaze turned north, where he discovered that the river started in a huge mountain range at least a hundred miles from him. The steppes surrounding the river were dotted with all types of vegetation and animal life. It wasn't a normal river, that was for sure, because when Khalon peered into it, the river had an almost golden sheen. He heard noises behind him and turned. Several figures that looked like humanoid alligators, each carrying large metallic halberds surrounded him.

"What do you want?" Khalon asked, rudely.

"This is our river, human." One of the taller creatures replied.

"I'm not a human. Can't you see that?"

"Get out of here, trash." Another responded.

"I can understand you! All of you! If I was human I would have no fucking clue what you meant!"

The creatures huddled together and discussed in quiet, dulcet tones. They turned and brandished their halberds threateningly.

"This is our river. You have refused to leave. In the name of the Executioners, we will bring you to Vitnos, you insolent half-breed!"

Khalon quickly unleashed both of his arm blades, peering around to see any weaknesses in their formation. They were packed together, which meant if he could pierce through one he would most definitely strike another. They all charged in unison, screaming in strange rasps and moans. Khalon ducked and weaved from every halberd blade that cried out for his blood. However, he wasn't fast enough. One of the blades embedded itself in his right hip, which drew copious amounts of blood. Khalon struck out at the offender and smiled as a sharp cry was elicited from the victim. He rolled to the left to escape more deadly blows, and noticed that the creature he struck was unhurt. They can heal themselves. Fuck. He charged towards the crowd twirling both of his arm blades in deadly arcs. He managed to be too fast for the alligator creatures, and struck all of them several blows. He turned and saw blood dripping into the serene river. However, as the blood dripped into it, their wounds healed.

"This river has more abilities than you know, half-breed. We cannot die so long as we can touch it, feel it, and be immersed in it. This is the River of Life."

"Then why the fuck is it not working on me?!" Khalon screamed, as the gaping wound on his hip refused to heal.

"You are not a true demon, you are a bastard abomination."

"Shut the fuck up! I'm tired of being belittled by you high and mighty shitheads! I'll kill every single one of you!"

Khalon let out a pained yell and pulled out the spear from his back. The hunger he had been experiencing increased in magnitude as his eyes were filmed over in red. The force of his spear blows were knocking them out of the way like a football punted over a large field. Unfortunately, one of them remained, defiant. His defensive stance would keep him from suffering the same fate. As Khalon rushed towards him, he sheathed his spear. Both arm blades came out again, but this time he buried one in the shoulder of the creature, using his momentum to carry the creature with him. The alligator human cried out in pain but managed to shove his halberd straight through Khalon's left pec. It did not faze him, as they both tumbled off the waterfall, their blood coalescing as their bodies hit the bottom.

"What do we do now, father?" One of the alligators asked.

"We let Vitnos take care of him. Demosthenes is not far from here, and there he will meet his end."

Khalon woke up in pain and agony. To his side, lay the creature he had brought along with him, who unfortunately was still alive. Blood was seeping out of the two major wounds on his body, and the alligator human was cradling his bloody shoulder. The impact of the fall had also broken several of it's bones, which were not healing. He's different. I guess the River of Life doesn't work for everyone. Khalon struggled to get up as pain seared his senses to a crisp. The waterfall pooled into a large lake that seemed to get larger by the day. Small brooks had begun to break off from it, carrying the same golden sheen as the rest of the water. Everything was quiet. The forest cradled both Khalon and the creature in it's hands, shielding it from any apparent evil. Khalon walked over to the stream and drank heavily from it, while more blood poured out of his wounds. The water had no restorative powers for him. The creature began to get up as well, turning to Khalon and looking lugubrious.

"Why'd you take me? I didn't do anything to you."

Khalon reflected on that statement. It was true, this creature was just an unfortunate bystander in his path. He had never seen the creature physically strike him until Khalon did.

"You demons are all the same. You see me and you think I'm just another half-breed. I feast on humans just like you do, but I crave demon flesh as well. I have the same unlimited potential and power that any one of you mutated freaks do."

The creature looked around.

"I've never been down here before. My father told me never to come down here, as the Executioners patrol the area most of the time. You see, I was just born…I still remember when I was a human boy. I remember when all I did was play with toys and hang out with friends. You think you're the only half-breed? Do you? I am too, it's just not apparent because I was baptized in the River of Life."

Khalon walked towards the forest edge. He turned to the creature and looked into it's eyes. For the first time, Khalon studied it's features. The demon was fairly short, with scaly skin and deep yellow eyes. His face was shaped just like an alligator's only the mouth was not as long. He was clothed in a blue, patterned shirt and blue pants. The spikes on his back drove holes through the material. Every inch of the creature was pure muscle and strength. The fact that the halberd he carried was so massive made sense.

"Then we're the same. We're both in a dangerous territory. Do you want to stay here and die? If not, come along. My name is Khalon."

"And my name is Erix. I'll go…but I'm not coming along just so you can feast on me."

Khalon laughed. "Don't worry, your skin is probably disgusting."

Both Erix and Khalon headed into the forest. The serenity followed them from the lake and could be felt all around them. This forest was completely untainted by any evil or depravity. Khalon could feel a presence around them, though, watching them and judging their movements. The Executioners are here? Already? Don't they have any more…important things to do? The trees grew narrower and closer together, to the point where Khalon and Erix were walking in single-file order. The claustrophobia lessened as they entered a large field encompassed on all sides by trees. In the middle was a meeting of sorts, headed by a cloaked man and a priest-like figure.

"Khalon, we gotta hide! That's Vitnos and the Executioners!"

Khalon obeyed and hid behind a large tree, hoping to find out just what this Vitnos man was like.

The priest-like figure bellowed out orders to each group of demons. Vitnos remained idle until the priest bowed out to let him speak.

"We have attacked the Last City. So far we have besieged them on all sides. They have no room for escape and no possibility for retreat. The only problem with this situation is that they have acquired a hybrid. This particular hybrid is something I have never seen before. He is not a halfbreed. He is a human possessed by a higher-order demon who is betraying our kind as we speak. From what I have ascertained, this man goes by the name of Mark, but the demon inside of him is Astaroth. You all remember Astaroth, don't you? He used to be one of us. In fact, he was next in line to take over this ruin of a planet. However, he decided to bend over for the Eternal Judges. They want him to stop our plan of destroying this planet. They are weak! Pathetic! Most of all they are fools. He denies any connection to our kind or our plan. He is a traitor among all traitors. I want you to find this betraying waste of existence, and kill him. Feast on his soul and make dead-sure that Astaroth never walks this planet again."

The demons all cried out in unison. As a sort of reward, Vitnos opened up a large chest behind him, which housed several dead humans, all mangled beyond recognition. He raised his right hand and levitated several of them. He then moved them above the large crowd of demons, and used his left hand to twist and rip apart their bodies. The blood spray coated the demon crowd as they fed on it on like a child at an ice cream parlor. Vitnos smiled at their savagery.

"You two, I know you're out there. You are free to come out, my demon brethren."

Khalon and Erix were shocked, but reluctantly left their hiding place and entered the open. Both of them sheathed their weapons and walked towards the crowd.

"Your speech was very exhilarating, Vitnos! I almost felt a tinge of motivation!"

Khalon said, sarcastically.

"What are you doing?! You'll get us killed!" Erix whispered, with fear in his voice.

"You're quite the smart-aleck. Where are you two from? Wait, I recognize one of you. It's little Erix! I see the Ephanes are still alive and well. How is your father doing, anyway?" Vitnos said, smirking.

"He's… he's alive and well. I am … very sorry for disobeying my father. He told me never to come down here, because I'd be killed."

Vitnos laughed again, mirthlessly.

"Come now. I have a heart of compassion. I will not kill such loyal servants. However, who is this insolent half-breed you have brought to me?"

"His… his name is Khalon, s-sir. I didn't meant t-t-to bring him to you. He brought me down here with him, when he attacked our tribe."

Vitnos' eyes showed slight surprise to that, and just a little curiosity.

"Khalon, hmm? I'll remember your name. I invite you both to Demosthenes. It's a very large town, and you'll both feel right at home. Unfortunately, I think your father wants you back, doesn't he, Erix?"

Erix nodded.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry for everything." Erix said, then turned to Khalon.

"I'll see you around." Erix waved and ran back into the forest.

Khalon had remained silent after his rude outburst. He stared deep into Vitnos' eyes, challenging him in a dominating sort of way. You made me who I am, didn't you? I'll make sure you pay for it, Vitnos. I damn well will. Vitnos said nothing to Khalon and instead disappeared. His body fragmented the air around him as his image twisted and twirled into nothingness. Khalon let out a large sigh. The very presence of Vitnos drove his senses wild. His hunger had soared to astronomical heights. The priest had also departed, though Khalon had no idea where. Instead, he saw the chest still filled with rotting humans. He walked towards it and pulled out a carcass of a dead, older woman. His eyes were encompassed in a pall of crimson as he began to tear into the flesh. He started with the chest and then began to dive into her stomach and organs. The heart was the juiciest part of it all, and as he bit down on it, he remembered just why he loved being part-demon. This feeling of satisfaction. I need more of it. I have to become a full-fledged demon. I want to feast like this every day, every minute even. I want to become nothing more than a beast like Vitnos.

Demosthenes was a few miles away from the forest. Khalon opted to walk instead of fly there. His stomach needed to adjust to the heavy meal he had just had. After his encounter with the other demons, the forest lost it's tranquility. He noticed the obvious changes too. The trees turned more of a dull, sickly yellow. The ground beneath went from chocolate brown to a smoldering red. Everywhere he turned, it was as if a disease had ravaged everything. After exiting the forest, the beautiful, picturesque plains he had sailed across became nothing more than desert wastelands. In the distance he saw Demosthenes. The city looked like a black tomb. It provided a heavy contrast to the desert. Even the air above the city was dark and cloudy, while the atmosphere outside of it was clear and sunny. There was nowhere else to go, he figured he might as well check the place out. He was about 500 feet from the entrance to the cit within a few minutes. There were large black walls bordering the outside, with large fluorescent lights circling around the top of them. The ground beneath Khalon was black and decrepit as well. The two large doors that were twice as tall as Khalon was were constantly opening and closing. They swung open quick and closed just as fast, as if they were operated by a machine. Demons filtered in and out of the city. Some of them could fly, taking to the air and heading God-knows-where. Khalon headed towards the doors. It flung open and he walked inside. He entered into a massive lobby that was packed full of all sorts of demons. Large, fat, translucent, flying, they were all here. Some of them were so far from being human that he could barely understand the language they were speaking. Many shops were lined around the lobby, selling human body parts, and the amount of noise created from all of the demons eventually filtered into a sort of white noise to Khalon. The lobby had a high ceiling, with all of the walls being black as night. More fluorescent panels dotted the landscape, with huge, moving advertisements on every wall. This place is definitely what I expected the future to be. Maybe not so fucking bleak, but beggars can't be choosers, eh? Small child-like demons were running around with human body parts, flailing them about and hitting each other with them. Khalon sat on a bench and watched them. The children proclaimed their joviality to the world, and then proceeded to feast on the severed arms and legs. Northwest of him, he saw demons practicing their combat ability. Several of them were fighting each other in a struggle for dominance and success. Khalon stood up and walked towards them, so he could hear the fight.

"I will defeat you, Mirraz! I am stronger than you!"

"No, brother Zanine, the time is ripe for my success!"

Mirraz was a deformed efreet. His horns were curled in a slight helix, and his body was fire red and orange. Around his hands and feet were the same symbol that painted Khalon's chest. Every time he swung his double-bladed scythe, the symbol burned with an orange glint. Zanine was the exact opposite of Mirraz. His body was blue as the ocean, and he resembled a merman. His fins arched out of his face like whiskers and the symbol that burned a heavy aquamarine was centered on his pelvis. His weapon of choice were two bastard swords, which shined white with energy. Before Khalon could study any more, they clashed blades and began to struggle against each other. After what seemed like hours but probably only lasted 15 minutes, they broke apart before striking back with quick swipes at each other's bodies. Mirraz's weapon left him open for an attack, but he knew that and instead used it for defense more than offense. Zanine's speed was remarkable, as he became a blur while searching for any weaknesses. Unfortunately, what he excelled in speed, he lacked in pure brute force. He was clearly the weaker, but faster of the two brothers. As they circled in a dance of death, Khalon once again felt the presence of being watched. It isn't the Executioners again, is it? Why would they follow me? No… it's someone else. He turned quickly to his left and saw a female demon, her arms cradled under her breasts, smiling. She was a half-breed as well. Her robes were purple, while she wore black satin pants where her robes did not cover. One flap of her robes came across and between her legs, while the other flap did the same but across her backside. Her blue-orange hair fell across her shoulders, while four horns dotted her forehead. Her eyes were a silvery green, and her smile did little to hide her fangs. Her skin was purple. Khalon couldn't tell what kind of mixture she was, but he knew that she was the one following him, ever since the waterfall. She pointed down a long hallway which led to the rest of the city, and motioned for him to follow her. Before Khalon could so much as blink, she sped off down the path. Her speed was almost equivocal to Khalon and his wings, which surprised him. Heh, so there are female demons. This could be interesting. Khalon smiled and followed her.

The hallway turned and wove around in a circle before opening out to a vast, expansive vista of technology. The town was still black, everywhere, but the vast amount of lights and events all around him were breathtaking. Strange, curved towers could be seen in various parts of the city, and none of the architecture was at all like a human construct. He walked out onto the balcony and just took in the sights. The woman he spotted earlier appeared next to him.

"Nice night, huh?" She said.

"Yeah…it's beautiful. This city is amazing."

"It sure is. I felt the same way as you do right now. Demosthenes is the absolute and perfect image of the future to come for all demon kind." She replied.

Khalon turned to look at her. Her gaze was centered on the city, but he could spot in her a sense of guilt and maybe even… remorse.

"So why were you following me? Are you another of Vitnos' slaves?"

She shook her head. Instead, she motioned for him to follow her into the depths of the city. Khalon followed, more reluctant than before. She's hiding something. The stairs leading deeper into the city stretched long and far, descending below ground level. There was another set of stairs, but Khalon ignored them. The woman walked in front of him without any hesitancy, and didn't speak. At the bottom of the stairs, a large plaza loomed in front of them. Many demons were huddled together in small groups, talking in different languages that Khalon didn't understand. There were vendors, here, too, but they seemed less vocal than in the lobby. This side of town seemed desolate and depressing, and had none of the bristling activity that the entrance had. Khalon figured the other stairwell led to a brighter, happier part of the city. They passed by shops and housing, each structure different from the one before, probably due to the variety of demons that lived here. They were not all mutated from the same being, or created in the same way. Children who Khalon had thought would be having fun, enjoying their lives, were now lounging around, uncommunicative and exuding despair.

"This place is depressing. I figured us demons would be happy with this place, and it's exorbitant amount of possibility."

She stopped, and sighed.

"The demons living here were forced to live here. None of them want to be in Demosthenes. None of them wanted to be demons. This is Sector Seven. This is the area where the undesirables and the loners coexist. The other stairwell you saw leads to the other six sectors of the city. Sector One was the lobby. Sector Two has all the leading figures in charge. Sector Three has the majority of the shops and buffets. Sector Four contains most of the main technology. Sectors Five and Six are composed of only those large, misshapen towers. I am not privileged to know what goes on there. "

Khalon looked at her quizzically.

"Privileged? Just who are you?"

She replied in silence. Khalon sighed and continued to follow her. As they ventured deeper into Sector Seven, more and more alleyways diverged from the main path. Khalon looked up and saw many demons peering down at him and the woman from high up on rooftops. The main path split in twain after a few miles. Despite the distance, the woman refused to say anything. She chose the left path and Khalon continued to follow. She has a nice ass. He slapped himself from getting too excited, and saw a small warehouse. She again motioned for him to walk inside, and he did so. He turned and closed the door behind them, but as he turned, the woman was gone.

"This has to be trap." Khalon muttered, and began to fumble with the door handle. It was locked shut, probably from someone on the outside.

"Damn that fucking bitch."

He looked around the dusty warehouse. It had been built by humans, that much was for sure. Some bits and pieces of it were molded in demonic taste, such as rotting human corpses strung from the ceiling. Khalon began to walk around the place, looking for a way out. There was an old car sitting in the middle that had been unused since the apocalypse. He peered into the window and saw nothing of any importance. Khalon turned away from the car before it was blown towards the opposite wall with an immense surge of force.

"Oerlhaz, is this the vermin you brought here? He seems sort of pathetic and weak to me." Remarked a voice from the second floor of the warehouse.

The voice then attached itself to a figure, whose hands were breathing blue light. His right arm was twisted, mangled, and deformed. It was three times as large as a regular human arm. His face was stretched and his head was slightly rounded. A short mop of brown hair barely concealed his deformed, demonic head. He had large, unblinking black eyes. His clothes were in tatters, but he didn't seem to care. He was tall and was actually levitating from the floor. His innate ability seemed to be telekinesis. He could lift things with his mind, and with his hands, and throw them with immense force in any direction. His insignia of power was square in the center of his forehead, a sun with two roses circling around it.

"Yes, but he is quite a stunning figure. He fights well, too. He also seems to have a penchant for staring at my figure, Lannar." The woman now named Oerlhaz replied.

Khalon shook with anger.

"You're quite inventive, luring me here with your body and your small talk." Khalon said, furiously.

"Oh, don't take this too harshly. I merely want to rid you from this city. What is your name, anyways? I want to remember you before you die."

"Khalon!!" He screamed as he charged towards her, blades drawn.

"My, you're certainly to-the-point. Lannar!"

The car that he flung into the wall now came flying back, slamming into Khalon's left side, crushing him. The pain became shockwaves of agony as he tried to lift the car off of him. Lannar picked the car up in preparation for slamming it back down on Khalon, but he had other plans. Khalon rolled away from the ensuing crash, and picked himself back up. He charged towards Lannar and, while ducking and weaving the various objects being thrown at him, struck out towards Lannar's stomach, leaving a large gash that oozed black and blue blood.

"You're something else, Khalon. I'm afraid that it's not enough."

Lannar's left arm shook with energy, and a large pulse of telekinetic power caught Khalon blindly, paralyzing him.

"Oh, you're such a naïve little boy." Oerlhaz said, wryly.

She tried to pick up his paralyzed body, but the mark on Khalon's chest erupted in light. The energy that came from it knocked Oerlhaz back ten feet.

"No, Oerlhaz, you are the naïve one."

The paralyzing telekinetic chains broke as Khalon rose. Lannar was furious, picking up various objects around him, even chunks of the ground itself, and threw them at Khalon. However, it was not enough. His arm blades destroyed everything thrown at him, in a blur of magnificent power. He ran towards Lannar and leapt, both blades drawn in front of him, with an intent to drive them right through his body. The deformed demon summoned all of his telekinetic power and froze Khalon in his tracks.

"You can't overcome my mental strength, Khalon."

"Wanna bet?"

Khalon's hands emitted a large beam of light that shattered Lannar's mental shield, and caught him in the chest. The resulting force drove him into the ground, tearing through his flesh as he cried in pain.

"Enough, Khalon!!" Oerlhaz screamed.

The deadly beams ceased as Khalon's power waned. He sunk to the ground and sheathed both arm blades.

"What? Had enough, bitch?" Khalon retorted.

"Don't kill him, please. He's the closest thing to family I have. I…I'm sorry for doubting your power. Just please…don't kill him!" She cried.

"Then tell me who you are, why both of you wanted to kill me."

Oerlhaz sighed.

"You know my name, but not what I do. Well, I'm commissioned by Lord Vitnos to get rid of any unsavory types that wander into our city. We tend to target half-breeds. I was lucky to come to this place before that rule was under effect. There's a lot more to this city than what I revealed about the Sectors."

"Blah blah blah, I don't really care. I learned what I needed to." Khalon began to walk towards the door of the warehouse.

"Wait, Khalon! Isn't there something you want now more than ever? I could…I could help you get it." Oerlhaz said.

"There is one thing…help me become a full demon. I'm tired of being human." He replied.

Oerlhaz seemed relieved.

"That I can do. There's a Temple not far from here. We built it to mimic human worship, but it has other purposes. One of those is a full baptizing that rids oneself of his or her humanity."

"Good, lead me there."

Oerlhaz followed Khalon towards the door, glancing at Lannar and feeling helpless. She unlocked the door for him, and he walked outside.

"No more tricks." Or I'll make it my utmost priority to feast on those tits of yours, and it will most surely be pleasurable only to me.

Chapter 7: Valley of Fate

"He must always remain out of control, Lemegeton wants it."

"Are you sure he can't change his fate? Every human has the ability to do so."

"That's why we keep him from any such thought. Keep him afraid of his own power."

As Astaroth screamed in rage, the demons surrounding him cowered in fear. A motley assortment of attackers, ranging from the usual dime-a-dozen mutated animals and humans to some truly unique demons, with strange weapons and even stranger looks. Astaroth's blade slashed in front of him, as the demons remained their composure and fought back. A winged dog flew towards him, scythe-like arms in pursuit. The blue-skinned warrior dodged the assault and drove a blade straight through the dog's chest, spilling blood everywhere. More flying demons circled overhead, and with their appearance, hellfire and brimstone cascaded the Gate and Astaroth. The hellfire grazed his skin, but did little to stop him from his attack. He drove his blade into other, unfortunate prey as their numbers increased.

"You know, you're only sealing your own fate, fools."

"What would you know about fate, accursed fusion of human and demon?"

Astaroth smiled.

"I know that all of you must die here, before any more blood is shed."

"You are no patriot! Don't think you come even close to one!"

The same bladed figure that Mark had previously fought appeared before Astaroth, but this time it had friends. Others appeared, the only differing feature being their skin color. Some had scimitars instead of long knives protruding from every limb. All of them attacked in unison, blades flying everywhere. Astaroth weaved through the mess of death implements and tried for an upward slash with his arm blade. His target parried his blow and shoved a blade straight into Astaroth's chest. I'm not at my prime, obviously. What is going on? I should be able to take down these abominations with ease. Mark, what are you doing? Astaroth was being further backed into a corner as the precise fencing movements of the demons coupled with the increasingly frequent hellfire rain was weakening him.

"This isn't ending in the manner I want. I am beginning to be frustrated."

Astaroth began to imbue his blade with stunning aquamarine light. The blade itself grew longer with the energy boost. Eventually it became twice it's own size. With this new strength, he carved through the fencers, watching their limb-blades shatter like twigs. Their death cries sounded like a mixture of a dying whale and a human child. The sound stung Astaroth's ears, to the point where he was on his knees trying to stop the ringing.

"Nice trick." Astaroth weakly remarked.

The Gate doors busted open as larger, fatter creatures stumbled forth. The new foes were all extremely fat, deformed humans, and towered above Astaroth at least three times over. They carried large maces which they swung around in anger and inaccuracy. They spotted the blue warrior amidst the carnage and refuse of the city. Letting out a bellow of unintelligible sounds, they ran towards him. Every footstep shook the entire city, and their mace blows flattened their demon brothers who happened to be in the way. Astaroth readied a fighting stance and held his ground. He waited until the idiotic creatures were within one hundred feet of him before he charged. Since they paid no attention to their accuracy, Astaroth could work his way around every swing, searching for a weak point. He stabbed straight into the underside of one of the creatures, which stuck and congealed around the blade.

"Oh, fuck."

The creature he had stabbed gazed down at the small thing that had attempted to hurt it. It grabbed a hold of Astaroth and threw him into a building just across the way. Since the start of the attack, most of the buildings in the area had lost their means of foundation and stability. Walls tore apart easily as did floors. He found himself slammed through several floors of wood before he hit the basement. Taking a look around, he knew he was far underground. Tunnels weaved around him, connecting the rest of the city to some sort of inner core. Mark appeared before Astaroth.

"You're not doing a very good job, man."

Astaroth didn't understand what was going on.

"How can you appear before me? You're not a demon who can slip through planes of existence."

"No, but I am still in your mind. Did you already forget your own arsenal of destruction? I thought you were smarter than me, from some higher existence I couldn't even begin to understand. No, you're no better than I am at fighting. Look at your left hand, the power in there could help." Mark replied.

Astaroth stared at his left hand, noticing the indentation and the glowing orb of energy that was begging to be released. He knew that this was the only way to kill those fuckers. He began to ascend the wreckage of the building, floor by floor. All around him he could hear and sense the death and chaos that was consuming the city. The grotesqueries that waited for him outside of the building greeted him with violence. Their maces swept the ground, kicking up plumes of dust that coated Astaroth and blinded him temporarily. The hellfire flyers flew in after this, clawing and slashing at Astaroth's body. He felt like a rag doll being ripped apart.

"Enough bullshit."

Astaroth raised his left arm in front of him. A surge of energy gathered in the hole in his index finger, and grew in strength. The power given off from it scattered the flyers in every direction, and the grotesqueries retreated back a couple paces. The ball of energy gathered in his hand was becoming too much to control, so Astaroth let it go. A gigantic beam of blue energy shot forth, causing the world around him to disintegrate as time slowed. Astaroth witnessed the grotesqueries blown in half. Their bodies torn in two and blood even being evaporated by the force. The flyers above were seared beyond belief and managed to escape, crying into the night with piercing gales of bird-like tenacity. The Gate itself was desecrated and blown wide open. The archway above it cracked and splintered from the beam, and fell into it, destroyed instantly. The landscape outside of the city was burned and eradicated. Astaroth, make this stop! For fuck's sake, turn it off!

"Fine. I wanted to witness more death…you are really no fun."

Astaroth's power faded away as Mark fell to the ground. The tattoo on his left arm grew in intense pain and reached further up his arm. Amid the dusty, fiery city, Mark spotted Jon and the rest of the army rushing back to the Gate. Everything else became infused with black as he passed out yet again.

The hospital lights antagonized his eyes as Mark awoke in the same bed. Jacqueline was standing watch over him, tending to his wounds with ointment and alcohol. His left arm was dead with numbness and the tattoo that had flared in reaction to the release of energy was beginning to tear away at his skin and cause him to bleed.

"You are a mess, Mark." Jacqueline said, sarcastically.

"Thanks. I'm just keeping up appearances!" Mark replied.

He sat up in his bed and swung his legs over the side. His body ached and bled as he moved, but it had become a familiar feeling. Astaroth needed my help, instead of taking over my body like usual. I really don't think this is going to become a constant problem, but maybe I'm doing something to him that I can't explain? Mark stood up and Jacqueline did with him.

"Where are you planning to go, Mark?"

"Out. I need to think."

He slid open the door and walked into the main lobby. Like clockwork, the Mayor, Jon, and Marillia along with several of the commanders of the human defense network laid upon him.

"Mark, you lucky fucker! You saved the entire fucking city!" Jon exclaimed.

"I never thought a hybrid could have such control over his powers. I wish to study this more." Marillia said.

"You are a threat to this city, but thank you." The Mayor gruffly remarked.

The only ones who were silent were the commanders. Their stares pierced Mark's soul and made him shiver.

"I don't know how I did it myself…there's something in Astaroth that I can't explain. He didn't do it to save any humans, he did it to save his own skin. How can you all just thank him for essentially saving his own ass?!" Mark yelled.

The crowd stared blankly at Mark's exclamation. What came forth next sounded more like Astaroth and less like Mark.

"I don't care about this place or it's denizens. They continue to spit on my actions and my feigned kindness. I killed them for my own personal gain. They stood in my way, and I eradicated them. I will not hesitate for anyone else."

He walked off, leaving the rest of them speechless. Jon turned around and watched Mark leave.

"I think he has absolutely no restraint over Astaroth in his own mind. He's still the same puppet we've always known him as. Just because he saved us doesn't mean he will in the future." Jon said.

"I think he will lose this mental battle." Marillia said, with an almost sagacious tone.

"The powers above better save us when he loses. That thing inside of him could destroy the entire world." Jon said.

It was a sunny day that almost brightened the chaos that the city had suffered. People held onto each other, cradling torn-off limbs or even their own dead relatives and friends. A slight breeze blew through the remains of buildings and collapsed a few by accident. The dusty ground made the place feel like it was ripped straight out of the Old West. The magnificent change the place had undergone over the course of one night surprised Mark. People glared at him, wagged their fingers at him as he walked by. He had done nothing to incite their anger or detesting, like usual. Everyone around saw him as a freak of nature, and even though he saved them all, he received no gratitude from the broken humans that dotted the landscape. Mark turned his attention toward the plaza, which fortunately was still in business. People still bought and sold goods and kept their families alive and well. These people have been through this mess before. They know what it's like to grieve quickly and forget. To them, family is temporary, friends will come and go, and life will never stay on one beaten path. I wish I could do the same. I miss Andrew, and I miss the feeling of knowing my own humanity. While Mark continued to reflect on his own past, Tsume passed by him.

"You did pretty well back there, faggot."

Mark snapped out of his trance.

"What? Going to repay my hard work with ingratitude like everyone else?" Mark asked, angrily.

"Not this time, pillow-biter. I want to offer some advice to you, maybe you will think on it."

"I'm listening." Mark replied.

"Look, I know I've been a gigantic asshole to you, but hear me out. A few of my subordinates have told me that there's something going on in a valley to the northwest of here. There's some demons gathering around a temple. I have no idea what the fuck it could it mean, but maybe you should have a look. I'll come with you, as I know the way."

Tsume said, smirking.

"Sounds interesting, but when will I ever need your help? You fucked with me once and I blew up half of your arena. Don't make me repeat the same mistake."

Tsume laughed.

"You think I'm afraid of you, homo? If you go there, I will come along no matter what you say or think or do. You think I'm weak, because I'm human, right? Well, you're wrong. I will kill you if I have to, no matter what faggoty form you assume."

Mark stared at him, matching his glare evenly. There was so much malice between the two of them, they could have killed each other at that exact moment. Mark was the first one to break the staring contest and continue down the path. Mark would not soon forget Tsume's Japanese, malice-etched face. He contemplated the thought of this "valley", though. If what Tsume said was true, that could mean that there's something there worth finding. There was no reason to stay in the city, if that was true. A terrace lay on the left side of the plaza, which overlooked the forest that spread around the city, casting a fine green glow on the horizon. Astaroth stood next to him, the same blue aura that he always had enshrouding his true form.

"I want to visit this valley."

"I don't care what you want. You've always tried to rid me of my humanity…and it's working. I want it to stop. I want you to leave my body."

"You have no choice in this matter, Mark. I am here to stay. I will do what I want with your body and with this world. Emotions…they are not for me. I don't feel pain for killing humans, or demons, or anything. I will guide this world down the path that my elders wish. Nothing you, or Jon, or anyone else can stop. I'll remake this world and save it from annihilation. You can resist, or submit. There is no 'getting rid' of me. Learn this and you will understand. We will go to this valley and see what's happening. I have a feeling it's something we need to witness."

"Fine. We leave in the morning." Mark replied.

Jon and Marillia walked side-by-side, watching the sun set in the distance. Every minute, more of the ruined city faded into darkness. Jon was reluctant to speak, as was Marillia. Both of them knew that humanity had a weapon, but that weapon could backfire on everyone at any time. Every time either of them opened their mouths, words failed to come out. The same tension had existed between them ever since Marillia remembered their previous relationship.

"I just want to say that I think you did a fine job protecting us, Jon."

"…Thanks." Jon said, rather hastily.

"Look, we're friends, right? Why can't we just talk and joke around like real friends do?!"

"M, I…I can't do that. There's more to it all than you think. I can't just learn to love you. I can't even learn to like you. There's something about all of this that feels wrong, and I can't just lead you along while that still exists!"

She went silent for the rest of the walk. Jon asked some of the recovering families if they needed help.

"Do any of you need anything? I know you've all lost someone to the recent attack, but I won't hesitate to help any despairing family."

Few people actually listened to him. For the most part, he was ignored. He sighed and continued to walk up the slope that led past the Arena to the main lookout. Marillia tried to comfort him, but it didn't work. He merely shrugged her off him. She gave up and turned in the opposite direction, so she could get back to work. Jon depressingly climbed the slope and finally reached the lookout. In the center there was a giant telescope mounted on oscillating gears. The telescope could be turned in any direction via the machine that controls it. A small house right next to it was used as a bomb shelter in case anyone needed extra protection. It really didn't provide anything but a small, thin barrier against demonic attacks. Inside the house was a lever that could be pulled which retracted the entire telescope and all machines that controlled it into the ground. It too, was useless. Why would any demon pinpoint a fucking telescope as it's target? We have such useless protection around here, I don't understand any of it. Jon turned the telescope in a random direction and peered around. Small fires had erupted on small hills and sent plumes of smoke into the darkening sky. Everywhere he looked, the gloom of the times had erased all forms of happiness. By accident, the telescope swing northwest, as if drawn in it's particular direction. Jon looked into the glass and saw eruptions of green and red light exploding in the air. Then, suddenly, a quickly-ascending beam of blood-red color arched into the sky. It broke through every part of the Earth's atmosphere, and exited out into space. The spectacle lasted no more than five minutes, but the surge of evil and malevolence made it feel like hours. Jon's head began to ache and his eyes became solid green. In his mind, he felt a presence that shouldn't be there.

Mark laid down in his bed, and tried to sleep. Every minute took forever, and he tossed and turned relentlessly. Strange, chaotic dreams infiltrated his sleep and didn't let go. In one dream, he was in a large room surrounded by lit torches. A large staircase led to an altar. The room was dark, and the textures of the floor and walls were a dull brown. At the altar, he spotted a man with a knife in his hand. On every side of the altar were three floating entities, whose only recognizable feature were ornate masks. The rest of their bodies were almost poltergeist in nature. Each mask was shaped as either an object or an animal head. The mask to the left of the man was in the shape of a wolf. To the right, the mask was a man with a sad face, the part where a tear would be was cut out. Behind the man was a mask in the shape of a goblet. On one side of it, an ankh was emblazoned. The three masks moved slightly, as if nodding in agreement. The man took the knife and sliced both of his wrists wide open. The blood ran on the altar, pooling and congealing. The altar then glowed and a strange, mystical creature appeared, bathed in red light. The man opened his mouth wide, and the creature was literally eaten and swallowed. A faint glow outlined his figure, and his laugh was hoarse and deep. He turned, eyes completely and totally crimson, and stared at Mark.

"I've missed you, Mark."

His eyes began to bleed as his clothes changed from a drab black suit to a white straightjacket that fitted his form perfectly.

"Come to the valley, Mark, I want to see you."

He reached out his hand, and the dream world shattered. Mark woke up, bathed in sweat and shivering. He felt a surge of energy reach through the heavens, as he looked outside the dormitory window. It was true, a giant beam had come from the valley and gone into space. Mark's left hand reacted violently, slamming itself repeatedly into the window. Mark had to pull himself away before either the window broke, or his own hand. He had to use his other arm to try and keep everything in check, but his left hand continued to twitch and shake. He sat down on his bed, then laid down again, trying to find any relief with a night's rest.

The morning came drearily. There was no sun, as rain battered against the dormitory window. Mark stretched and felt the dull sting of the broken knuckles in his left hand. He put on a fresh pair of clothes and walked outside. Before even stepping out onto the road, he felt the heavy torrent of rain blanket him. He saw many people desperately seeking shelter. Mark noticed that some of the rain had an acidic quality, as people screamed in agony. It wasn't enough to wear down any buildings that were still left standing, but human skin would melt away if exposed to the acid for long enough. Down the road, he saw people dying in the streets, clutching to their belongings, or to each other. Reports would later say that another thousand people died from the acid rain. That left eight thousand humans, and many potential soldiers lost. Mark decided that it was time to head to the valley. He headed back inside and gathered scant few belongings. Tsume later arrived after the rain ended. The tall Japanese man gave him a .45 pistol, a knife made out of plasma materials, and a large trench coat.

"You'll need this. In case that demon in you decides not to give a shit about us, you can at least defend yourself."

"Yeah, thanks."

Mark put the trench coat and began to walk towards the eastern gate. Tsume told him to stop by the weapon depot before they left. When Mark reached the door, three familiar people stopped him. Jon, Marillia, and Jacqueline were jogging towards Mark.

"Uhh…why are you guys here?" Mark asked, dumbly.

"Tsume told us you were leaving for the valley." Jon replied, catching his breath.

"Yeah, we can't really let you go now. We're coming with you, Mark. I wish to educate myself in your battle tactics." Marillia said.

"If you guys get into trouble, I've got medicine and bandages to heal anyone." Jacqueline said, with a certain joviality that didn't fit the mood. Mark realized he couldn't stop them. They wanted to come along, so he opened the weapon depot door as wide as he could. Inside was a vast assortment of weaponry that would come in handy. Jon grabbed his reliable spear, along with a rifle which he wore on the right side of his pants. Marillia grabbed a rifle, as well as a personal laptop that she stored in there for analysis work. Jacqueline grabbed a long, metallic and plasma stave. Her medical bag hung across her left shoulder. Tsume grabbed a long, heavy blade which irradiated heavy amounts of plasma. He shouldered it, looking at Mark.

"What? This is my own personal weapon, just like Jon and his spear." Tsume said, nastily.

Mark ignored him, and turned to Marillia.

"Don't you teach the children here? Aren't you abandoning them by putting yourself in danger?" Mark asked.

"I grabbed one of the more intelligent desk-workers to substitute for me…no matter how long I'm g--"

Jon intervened.

"I just want to let you all know that we are leaving without permission from the Mayor. We could all be kicked out of this city for it. Are you sure you're all ready?"

Everyone nodded, even Mark.

The weather cleared up a bit as the City, still smoldering and smoking from damage, faded behind them. The dusty wind that picked up before was eerily absent. Another surge of energy erupted from the valley, which again seemed to attract his left hand like a magnet. Whatever's there, I know it will help me one way or the other. Maybe Astaroth is scared that it will mean I can have a small piece of the control he has over me.

I will keep my humanity. No matter what happens.

It's the only thing I have left.

Chapter 8: Born from Tears

"A God will be born today, aren't you afraid?"

"He doesn't have the will to become like me. I will always be the strongest."

"Sir, I can't help but worry. Khalon seeks power in any form he can attain it from. He has potential."

"All stray, attention-seeking dogs can be tamed."

The city of Demosthenes remained quiet after the warehouse caved in on itself. In fact, it almost seemed as if no one noticed it at all. The same depressed demons and decaying humans sat around glumly, or looking to the heavens in search of an answer. It was futile, there was no savior in this city. In Demonsthenes, the first time you enter you are bound to it for life. Khalon wanted to change this. There was much more important events that needed to occur besides wasting the rest of his life in a corrupt city with a wench and her slave. Oerlhaz had become silent again, she knew that if she even bothered to resist this course of action, she would die. Lannar brooded behind her, tagging along like a faithful pet. He couldn't protect her from Khalon's power. The fear in his eyes betrayed his anger, and even frightened his very soul. He knew that Khalon wanted absolute power, to rid himself of every possible part of humanity. Very few true demons exist in the world, or so Vitnos had said. The longing to keep one's humanity proved to be far more powerful than expected. Something about the ideal of emotions and thought overpowered even the weakest-willed converts. Vitnos spent every waking day and night trying to solve this problem, or so he said. Khalon's strides became more dignified, proud, and tense. Any thoughts of depression or missing his previous life had been extinguished. Vitnos… what a pathetic name for such a pathetic being. I'm no longer going to be spat upon, kicked around, or degraded. I will show the world that there is more to my soul than an emotional train wreck. Every piece of the puzzle to my broken soul will be corrected and fixed. They passed by the other Sectors and eventually made it to the main stairwell. Khalon's curiosity towards the other Sectors was renewed, and he decided to head down the forgotten stairwell from before. The steps gave way in places, and the entire path was decayed and destroyed. It was very odd that this part of the city would be brewing in it's own decay while the less important Sectors were given more attention. It was probably some plan of Vitnos', farm the humans and use them as cattle in the increasingly one-sided war against their own kind. Sector Two passed by, offices and strange flashes of light emanating from the odd architecture. Busy demons poured in and out of the place talking in more strange dialects and mannerisms that Khalon could not understand.

"So this is Sector Two, huh?"

Oerlhaz's reply was barely audible.

"…Yes."

"You're so quiet now, Oerlhaz. I hope you haven't lost your nerve." Khalon remarked, mockingly.

"I'm still the same person who tricked you earlier. How can you expect to trust anything I say, at all?!" Oerlhaz yelled.

"Because…you're the only source of information I have in this disgusting, abominable city. I might as well know what you know."

She took a few minutes to collect her thoughts.

"Yes, this is Sector Two. A lot of the business and war plans we have against the humans are created here. Many of the strategists meet together in secret and then the plans are shipped to Vitnos who looks over them. If he likes them, he broadcasts the message to the entire city, and more demons are drafted. Unfortunately, there hasn't been a real need for new plans…the humans only have one last city, which we amusingly call Cowardice. They hole themselves up in this City and leave themselves nowhere to run. We launched an attack on them over the past couple of days; reports say that a new demon surfaced among the fledgling humans and decimated our entire force with one attack."

Khalon smiled.

"Mark, right? Yeah I heard about him. He's partnered with that nice fellow Astaroth. I forgot to tell you that I met Vitnos in the forests a small distance from here. It was a strange encounter, to say the least. I listened in on one of his meetings and was filled in on recent problems with the humans."

"I'm surprised he didn't kill you for insolence or treachery. You have a rebellious nature in you that I really doubt he approves of."

Khalon laughed.

"Hahaha! He really did like me, I think. I mean, at least I didn't bend over for him like the rest of you pathetic demons do!"

"You shut the fuck up, halfbreed!" Lannar yelled, energy pulsing in his left hand.

Khalon merely turned and laughed harder. He continued to move deeper into the city.

A whole day had passed before the trio had covered the entirety of Demosthenes. Khalon learned that the rest of the Sectors held no real importance asides from the enigma that was the Fifth and Sixth Sector. He decided to ask Oerlhaz one final question.

"What else is going on here besides war plans and oppression? You said there was something underneath all of this."

She sighed.

"There is work being done to destroy this planet and everything on it." She moved Khalon and Lannar to a private part of Sector Four, hidden between two alleys.

"Vitnos and the Priest are working to ensure the success of this mission. No one outside of myself and other higher-ups know of this hidden agenda. We want to make this Earth barren, and then leave for another world. They have the power to do this easily, Khalon. This is why I worry about you wanting to seek power…soon, there'll be nothing to govern with said power." Oerlhaz said.

"I don't care, I want to do this. I've made up my mind. This city is filthy, rotting, and atrocious. Under my power it can be something worth living in. I will destroy my humanity and pave the way for all of demon kind." Khalon said, in a righteous, holier-than-thou attitude.

Oerlhaz and Lannar exchanged looks of doubt, but nodded their heads. Khalon turned around and headed back to the Lobby. On the way through Sector Three, he came across Mirraz and Zanine again. Both of them were in the midst of a strange, and dynamic battle. Most of the fight was a pure match of strength, with wrestling and kickboxing thrown in. Khalon decided to watch the fight again. Their weapons were thrown to the side as they fought against each other with everything they had. Mirraz bit into Zanine's neck and drew large amounts of blood, but Zanine responded by implanting a knee into Mirraz's chest, resulting in a large cracking of bones. Both of them split ways and rested for a couple minutes.

"Come on Mirraz! Kick Zanine's ass!" Khalon roared.

The two fighters instantly turned toward Khalon, who eventually began to cheer both of them on. The two demons faces brightened, and he noticed that they were merely children. If they had been human, they would most likely be 15 or 16 years old. Their penchant for competition and soaring ambition resembled what normal humans teenagers do in their spare time. Both of them stood up and walked over to Khalon. They shook hands with him and both of them began to talk about their fighting strengths and weaknesses, and how one could easily defeat the other. Khalon raised both hands in an effort to slow down the bombardment of conversation.

"Look, you both are great fighters. I don't really feel like choosing between you! I do want to ask though, have either of you been drafted by Vitnos yet?"

Both of them fell silent at the mention of this, and both responded quietly.

"In two days we'll have to go."

Their sullen, depressed manner touched a chord in Khalon that he didn't know existed. These kids don't need to be apart of this madness. They don't deserve to live here, they deserve freedom. He looked into their eyes, and spoke from what little was left of his heart.

"Come with me. I'm going to reshape the demon world so you don't have to suffer under Vitnos. I will cleanse the world of this oppression. Demons are not made to be slaves! I'll take you two to a better place."

In their eyes, Khalon noticed a glimmer of hope shine. They turned to each other and laughed happily, gathering their supplies and weaponry and shouldering them. Khalon at first thought the two children had parents, but it looked as if they were either drafted or killed by the pestilential nature of the city.

"Oerlhaz, Lannar, we are taking these two with us. They need to escape this place with us."

Oerlhaz was furious.

"These are children! Demons don't care about children! They are best used as…tools! Are you still such a repulsive human that you actually care about children?!"

Khalon smacked her.

"They are coming with us."

She slapped him in return.

"I refuse to help such a human as you." She looked him up and down before continuing. "You sicken me." She turned around and started to walk away before Khalon grabbed her left arm.

"I will kill you and the rest of this city if I have to. You are coming with me."

She turned and looked at him with fear and paranoia. She could not fight back against such determination. Oerlhaz reluctantly agreed to anything Khalon said afterwards.

Khalon found secret underground tunnels which led outside of Demosthenes just far enough to escape any patrol or defense with the help of Oerlhaz. She was cursing Khalon's name under her breath the entire length of the trip. Lannar, Mirraz, and Zanine could hear it while Khalon ignored it more or less because it was such a trivial matter. While walking through the tunnels, he swore he could feel Vitnos' presence in the walls, the floors, and in the air. It unnerved him, mostly because he knew he did not have the power to deal with such a powerful being just yet. A ladder lead up into the swirling desert sands that swept through the region outside of Demosthenes. Khalon turned around only briefly to look back at the city once they exited the tunnels. The darkness that enshrouded the area made him temporarily relive his own dark past. Why did he feel so honorable? I don't get this feeling…this need to help others. It's disgusting. It's repulsive. I helped these two boys out for…what? Am I trying to save them from what I was? Am I trying to keep them from killing themselves? Meh…they're demons, they can't feel what I felt, nor will they ever know what I felt. It's alright, though. All of this will be erased when I reach the Temple. He motioned for the others to follow him, with Oerlhaz pointing him in the direction of their next destination. She had described it as "not very far from here" but that was in demon terms. The place was literally five-hundred miles away, to the southeast. From there, it was one hundred miles southeast to the last City. The close proximity of both would lead one to think there was more devastation being wreaked upon humanity, but it was not so. The humans put up quite a good fight before being relegated to building their own tomb. Lannar began to develop a curiosity in the two new followers. As they walked, he showed them in telekinetic powers, lifting up large chunks of sand with only his mind and flinging it into the distance. Both children were amazed by it, and asked him if he could actually hurt someone with it.

"Khalon, is it alright if I try out more of my mental power on you?"

Khalon merely shrugged, and waved his hand in neutrality. In a split second, Khalon's body was lifted off the ground and slammed back into a dune in front of them. This resulted in him being covered in sand and relics buried underneath. Mirraz and Zanine congratulated Lannar for the showy display and were constantly amazed henceforth by anything he did. Neither of them saw him for the mutated freak that Lannar was. Childhood innocence. The trek by foot was arduous, mostly because no one in the group had the ability to move fast like Khalon did. He kept wishing repeatedly that he could just zoom across the landscape towards the Temple and forget about the rest of them, but Oerlhaz had the information he needed to get what he wanted. Lannar and the kids would resist any attempt at stealing her away from them, most likely. In the first day, the company had only covered the first third of the trek. The children were tired so they asked for a slight bit of rest. The dunes had increased in frequency and now every step was a descent into a sandy tomb. The mark on Khalon's body responded with the presence of pure demonic energy and thought. In the sky he saw a crimson, pulsating light which prompted his body to thrust itself forward, dragging him in the direction of it. He resisted, as did the others, who were similarly dragged forward. Khalon noticed the mark on Oerlhaz was along her lower back, and it was shaped like a golden whip, which outlined her shoulder blades. She looked back at him with contempt, and sat down. Khalon smiled and started a fire, before laying back and letting sleep overcome him.

Khalon's dreams had seemed more prophetic than ever before. It was the same, strange, slightly euphoric dream that he'd had before. In the dream the glowing, multi-colored vortex that surrounded him had turned periwinkle and at times a dark blue. In the distance, he saw himself. Again, Khalon tried to run towards that figure, as if drawn to his past life still. This time, threads of energy sprang from his hands and tried to envelop the figure, but the fake Khalon continued to retreat from his grasp. Finally, Khalon felt the presence of some other force. A demon appeared next to the figure, tall and foreboding. It had the same weaponry drawn just like Khalon had, but the wings on his hips were full, expansive, and spiked. The demon turned to the real Khalon and smiled. Then he impaled the figure next to him through the chest. The second arm blade stuck in him the other way, and with both he pulled apart the figure. Blood spilled everywhere, and the pain and agony could be felt throughout Khalon's mind.

"This will be you, Khalon. You will become me, and it will be glorious."

Khalon screamed in agony, his pain exiting the dream world and becoming real. The cries of pain woke up everyone else in the camp, and the mark on his body seared and illuminated itself brightly. If one looked close enough, they could see the demon inside of Khalon coming out of his soul. Oerlhaz rushed to his side and tried to calm him, but the fits of pain were too much. Khalon accidentally pierced Oerlhaz's side with one of the blades, unleashing a torrent of blood out of her body. She barely flinched, but continued to restrain him. Lannar began to probe Khalon's mind for the source of the distress, but Khalon's inner demon sent a powerful telepathic wave right back towards him, making Lannar fly back at least ten feet. Both men felt the same agony, because of the psychic connection that was formed. It would only end if the demon wanted it to, and Oerlhaz could do nothing but sit back and watch, nursing her wound.

"I know what we can try.." Mirraz said.

"Are you sure, brother? We can't kill them, you know!" Zanine replied.

"Let's use our weapons to snap them back into reality!" Mirraz yelled into the wilderness, almost triumphantly.

So they tried it. Mirraz stabbed Khalon in the right shoulder with his scythe, while Zanine tried to stab Lannar with his scimitars, who snapped out of the pain before the event could occur. Khalon felt the pain and still writhed in agony. Mirraz pulled the scythe out and backed away.

"I guess we have to let him fight his own battle." Mirraz said.

It went well into the night, but eventually Khalon settled down and awoke, feeling the puncture wound. He didn't bother asking what caused it, he'd had enough problems that night.

"No more sleeping. Today we make it there." Khalon said.

It had taken most of the next day, and well into that night before they reached the temple. A sign read: "TEMPLE OF TEARS". Around the temple were various groups of demons and even families of demons. Some were in a line that beelined into the temple. Every ten minutes or so, the same crimson light reached the heavens as a new demon was born. Khalon sat on the cliff top, taking note that the temple was embedded inside of a valley. One particular beam of energy followed the temple roof being destroyed by a very large, serpent-like demon with disfigured arms that were scattered along it's body. It roared in a strange manner, and showed off it's large tongue, which was actually a mesh of tentacles that all moved in synchronicity with each other. It's eyes were greenish-red and it's skin was a dirty brown. Up and down it's figure, it was plated in some sort of living armor that moved as the serpent moved. Khalon was mystified and at the same intrigued by the process, desiring to know more. He, along with the rest of his group, slid down the valley walls, following the slope down into the valley. Some demons turned in his direction, noticing the ragtag group and making slight comments in their native tongues. Khalon ignored all of them, and made a beeline for the middle of the line, hoping to sidestep most of the waiting process. A large, blob-like demon materialized in front of the line, it's body made of green, acidic ooze.

"Little fool, get in line."

"Get out of my way. I have important things to do, more important than any of these other worthless pieces of shit." Khalon replied.

The large creature's body jiggled in annoyance, and what looked like a hand reached out and enclosed on Khalon's throat, beginning to sear his skin.

"You will get your turn, GO TO THE BACK!"It roared.

"cough…You…made the wrong decision."

Twin orbs of light began to emanate from Khalon's hand as he tapped into and used the energy within the oddly lush, plentiful environment in the valley. The unique feature of this weapon in his arsenal was that it didn't matter where he was, so long as he could abuse any form of energy around. Before the creature would burn through Khalon's throat, he directed the beams of energy into it's body. The power of it caused the entire monstrosity to explode, as well as obliterating several half-demons waiting in line. The pressure on his throat was relieved as blood pulsed and oozed from his burned neck. Several of the same type of guard saw this action and began to move in his direction.

"Everyone! Run towards the temple now!" Khalon screamed.

Khalon opened up his side wings and soared towards the temple doors. To his right side he saw startled hybrids watching his fast transportation. Khalon paused near the doors and saw Lannar carrying the brothers with his telepathic energy, while running towards the entrance. Oerlhaz unfurled small wings which allowed her to fly above a certain distance. However, she had some trouble dodging several other flying demons which were trying to kill her. Khalon readied one strong beam and sent it in her direction, which caught several of her attackers by surprise, incinerating their wings and sending them crashing down into the ground. Eventually, the rest of the group made it up the steps leading to the entrance. Khalon quickly pushed open the doors and closed it as they all made it in. The inside of the temple was large and expansive. Intricate designs and artistry were engraved in the walls, while most of the floors and the ceiling were a dull shade of brown. In the pictures, demons could be seen harvesting humans as well as inscriptions proclaiming "THE GOLDEN AGE" and "THE FUTURE." Mirraz and Zanine ran their hands along the engravings, trying to understand what it all meant. Oerlhaz and Lannar went to talk with one of the denizens of the Temple, a short demon whose hair was silvery white and whose skin was a dull purple. He was clothed in strange, monk-like garb and said his name was Kinetica.

"You foolish, naïve twits! You barge in here and think you can demand anything out of me?!" He screamed at the top of his squeaky and tinny voice.

"I will do whatever I please. Tell me how to become a full demon, screw the other fools who are coming here today. I promise you that I will be more powerful and more useful than any of them." Khalon said.

Kinetica studied him for a moment. He could see the power in Khalon's soul and mind, but he knew that the demonic power inside of him would erase that strength.

"You know you will forever forget what makes you unique and human. Are you so sure you want to lose that? Many of us didn't, but we are trained not to regret." Kinetica told him.

Khalon began to think, pacing the room and going over scenarios in his head. I won't ever remember my past, even if it was filled with pain. It's memories. All of this, it's memories. If I let that fucker inside of me take over, I can't be looking back and hoping it would all be over. This is the last time I can make a decision. "I choose to eradicate my humanity, sir. In the quickest way possible."

Kinetica opened up a small doorway in the left part of the temple entrance area. Candles lit the way down the rugged path, which seemed to go on for miles before emptying out into a large ceremony altar. The floor was rugged cement and bricks, but there seemed to be an ever-flowing stream of blood that rose up an inch above the floor, sloshing around and pouring into the walls. Khalon even saw blood rising up the walls and recycling themselves into the pool along the floor via the ceiling. The group's hunger was incensed by the amount of blood, to the point where Mirraz began to drink it hungrily. Kinetica had to scold him for such an action, but he couldn't stop the others from feasting on the unceasing river of blood. Khalon was the only one who ignored the feeling. He was focused. He knew what had to be done. In his mind's eye, he could see in a small corner of the room a greenish force field barring the way for a group of humans and one hybrid. The hybrid was screaming and looking at him, as if trying to warn him. The field began to materialize for the rest of the group.

"It appears we caught a few humans in the trap. Oh well, they can watch." Kinetica remarked, wickedly.

"Khalon, step up to the altar."

The rest of the group ceased their blood-gorging and composed themselves, watching Khalon take his first steps into a purely demonic nature. The room began to shift and change with each step that Khalon took. In his mind and soul, he felt the constant rhythm of his own heart beat louder and louder. The mark on his body seared and glowed with the greatest intensity it had ever shown. Kinetica's voice began to fade with each step.

"Make your…..call…..masks…." The small demon's voice became nothing but white noise.

"I want to become a full demon." Khalon called out to the air, and the darkness. Suddenly, as if waiting for the right moment to appear, three masks called to him in his own mind. Their forms appeared next to the altar. The three masks were supported in air by absolutely nothing, and each seemed to symbolize something. The mask directly in front of Khalon was a man's face, shedding one tear. Where the tear was, part of the mask was hollowed out. It's texture was that of gold. To his right, a glittering emerald mask which symbolized a wolf with a scar across one eye looked back at him. To his left was a reddish-black mask who had eagle's eyes that burned with fire and a disfigured grin.

"We are the Three Masks." Responded the mask in front of Khalon.

"I am the Mask of Sovereign."

To Khalon's right, the second mask spoke.

"I am the Mask of the Soul."

Finally, the third mask spoke.

"I am the Mask of the Unifier."

Khalon stood silent, waiting for more to be said. After what seemed like hours, Sovereign spoke.

"So you wish to become a full demon, hmm? You rather demanded it, as I've seen. In fact, I can see into your whole life right now, Khalon. I've seen your pain and what you've done to try and repent for it in your future life. You have done nothing whatsoever. Your repentance is merely a white lie you tell yourself in consolation. It does nothing for yourself or anything you believe in. However, we will give you your peace. To fully attach yourself and immerse yourself in your inner demon, you must do exactly as we say. First, put on the Mask of the Soul. After that is complete, the Unifier, and then the Sovereign. Afterwards, take the ritual knife we give you and slit both wrists…this allows you to ease the human blood present in your body and allow the demon to reshape you as it pleases. Please begin."

Khalon reached out and grabbed the Mask of the Soul, placing it on his face. He felt his gut twist as his entire body began to shake. He looked down to see a strange substance and figure pulling itself out of the mark on his chest. Every movement sent shockwaves of pain throughout Khalon. He felt his nose, eyes, and mouth explode with blood which ran down the side of the mask and eventually down his body. It'll all be over soon…please God let it be over soon. Within the span of a few minutes, the demon had dislodged itself from Khalon's body and landed on the ground. Khalon looked at it. The figure was at least a foot and a half taller than him, with both arm blades extended and the same spear fastened in his skin. From both sides, large voluminous wings fanned out and awakened. The demon had long, black hair, and his face looked like a Japanese Oni, with twisted fangs that jutted out of it's mouth. It's eyes were a clear black. The outline of the demon was blue, just like Khalon's dream. It grinned at Khalon, as the Mask of the Soul left his face. The blood streaming out of his face had eased up some, and gave him enough time to look down at his body. He was completely naked, but also completely human. When the demon was separated, he lost the features of it on his skin. Khalon's pale, naked skin reminded him of what he was about to give up, but he pushed on. He reached out and put on the Mask of the Unifier. There was no pain this time, at least not yet. He looked over at the demon next to him as it's body twisted and shattered, like a pane of glass. The shards of it's body began to levitate and swirl around Khalon's body. The shards then stopped, and shoved themselves into Khalon's body. He would have screamed if he could even feel anything. At that moment, his body felt like a rag doll pinned to a wall. Every gasp of breath took large amounts of work to form, and he realized that this was the turning point. One last step. The Mask of Sovereign floated towards him, as if Khalon didn't need to even bother reaching for it. He reached out anyways and firmly planted it on his face. This last step made the shards disappear into Khalon's soul, and that was the last time he ever felt any human pain. The Mask disappeared and reappeared in front of him. Khalon opened his eyes and realized they weren't human eyes that he saw through. His vision was fringed with reddish-blue light and he could see more detail in the world around him than ever before. The Masks then floated and lined up with each other in front of him. Khalon reached for the knife and sliced both wrists, right where the vein was. It was a familiar feeling for him, but this time it felt like he was letting an old friend go. He watched his old human blood pour out copiously as the beating heart inside of him began to slow down. In a few minutes, it would stop beating forever. The last thing Khalon ever saw as a human were the three Masks, disappearing.

The new form awoke and stood up. I am finally free of Khalon. He turned and saw Khalon's old friends and company, and the old man who had helped him. In the corner he noticed that the humans were still there, the hybrid looking helpless. Astaroth, why are you here? I was told my twin was killed, but you are still alive. That's…refreshing.

"So…Khalon, it was a success?" Oerlhaz asked.

"Quiet!!!!" The demon roared, raising his hand. The amount of power with that one motion reduced the entire demon group around him to be forced on their knees.

"I am no longer Khalon. I am Zodiac. I will pave the way for the new future for demon kind, beginning with the elimination of this petty fool Vitnos. I will be the ruler of this planet, and I will shepherd demons into a glorious, macabre future!" He walked towards the pathway leading back to the entrance. Khalon's old friends stood up, speechless. Even Kinetica had nothing to say.

"What have you become…Khalon?…" Oerlhaz asked to the quiet, still air. Her hands were folded at her sides below her breasts.

"He's become a bigger fool than you know." Answered an unknown voice.

Chapter 9: Witnessing Metamorphosis

"Astaroth is merely playing with the boy."

"It is very amusing, Vitnos."

The stifling desert sands swept and cascaded around the bleak, solitary party. Jon tried to shield Marillia from the sand with his cloak, but the attempt ended in having the cloak disappear into the desert. Mark and Tsume walked almost side-by-side, trying to keep a foothold in the sizzling, hot sand. Jacqueline lagged behind, unable to keep up her pace. She continued to keep walking, though, without complaining. They had been traveling for hours upon hours, but the unending sea of yellow death inflated the actual experience into days, years, eons. The unending voice in Mark's head told him to continue towards the valley. It spoke of fate and of destiny. He believed in neither of those entities, though it merely proved that he didn't believe in anything at all. As he walked, images of Andrew summoned themselves from his subconscious. They were almost impossible to ignore. Every time he closed his eyes as sand sought to bury themselves in the sockets, he could see Andrew turning and looking back at him, smiling. He has to be out there. Maybe he's not in this valley, but… some innate sense tells me that he's still alive. I have no idea what he's become. He could very well be the harbinger of this world's doom. That's nonsense, though. Utter nonsense! Shut up already, you give me no time to think, human. Mark cursed silently under his breath, causing a sharp pain to begin anew from his left hand. He let out a gasp of pain, which failed to go unnoticed by the ever-antagonizing Tsume.

"Worn down, faggot? Should we stop and have some fruitcakes?" Tsume said, laughing.

"I'm…fine." Mark replied, quietly.

"What was that? I can't hear you! Too much cock in your mouth!" Tsume yelled, laughing even more hysterically.

Mark stopped and dropped the bags of food and weaponry he was carrying. Almost instantaneously, he tackled Tsume. Both men rolled along the sand floor, before toppling over a steep, almost-invisible sand cliff. The other three ran to the cliff and peered over, then looked at each other. Jacqueline sighed, while both Jon and Marillia shook their heads. Down below, Mark had Tsume on his back, and repeatedly slammed his fist into Tsume's face, breaking his jaw. Tsume lifted a leg and kicked Mark square in the back, forcing him to relent his assault. This gave the Japanese man enough to switch the tide of battle. Now, Tsume was punching Mark's face in, breaking his nose and a few teeth. He stood up and began to kick Mark in the stomach. The younger man began to cough up blood, but then kicked Tsume's feet out from under him.

"You were setting this up so you could get me alone, right? So you could kill me, right?!" Mark yelled.

Tsume merely smirked, and said nothing.

"Well guess what? I'm tired of your fucking shit, and I'm tired of you fucking humans!" Mark pulled out his .45 pistol, and aimed it at Tsume's forehead.

"You're the one who dies today!" Mark said, gritting his teeth and seething with anger. Fortunately, Jon stepped into the middle of the fight.

"Look, you two need to settle down. We aren't here to kill each other."

The two men looked around Jon and then at each other, both were bruised and bleeding badly. Mark eventually turned away from Tsume's gaze, as Jacqueline gave him his bags that he had left behind.

"You two are not ch--"

Jacqueline was cut off by a loud tremor that broke the ground around them into fragments. Much like a volcano finally releasing it's pent-up pressure, the ground shattered and large tentacles rose from them. Large amounts of sand were picked up and thrown into the wind, some raining down upon the party. A final, large piece of the desert gave way to the beast rising from the subterranean. It shook off the sand that coated it's body, and groaned loudly at the party. Most of it's body was made of tentacles, but the main part that was the most fearsome was an almost snake-like column that ended in what looked to be a cobra-head mixed with a bull's. The eyes were gouged and bleeding profusely, and it's mouth could swallow a human whole with ease. The horns that adorned it's forehead pulsated in and out, without an explicable use. From it's mouth dribbled blood, which, after falling on Jon's face and sliding down, looked highly reminiscent of human blood.

"Um…guys, I think it wants to kill us." Mark said, dumbly.

He pulled out his pistol, while Jon readied his spear and Tsume his exaggerated sword. Marillia and Jacqueline stayed behind, while Marillia tried to find any data on the beast. Several tentacles shot out of the ground and gripped Mark, sensing Astaroth's presence inside of him.

"It wants to talk to me, Mark. Can you live a little longer while I have a chat with it?"

Yeah, sure, I mean, I'm only getting my body indescribably crushed.

"Mark…don't think of it that way. You'll survive…maybe. Haha."

Jon saw Mark being pulled in, and rushed forward. He struck out at several tentacles, severing them in halves and fourths. Tsume did the same, only with much more efficiency due to the larger power exerted in each strike. Strange, purplish blood squirted onto their bodies as each tentacle let out a shrill squeal when severed. The main part of the creature seemed unaffected by the assault. More tentacles seemed to grow in the massacre of the others, though, and began to smack Tsume and Jon around. Each tentacle went for specific pressure points on the human body, leaving both men paralyzed for a time. During that brief paralysis, the tentacles went for sensitive parts of the body, such as the crotch, and dealt painful, agonizing blows.

"This thing...sure knows how to torture a human.." Jon tried to say, albeit weakly.

"You're…ugh…right. My balls are never going to be the same after…FUCK!…this.." Tsume replied, his voice raspy and the cuts on his face bleeding more and more as the tentacles made sure to rip them open further. Marillia and Jacqueline looked at each other, and nodded. Marillia pulled out her sub-machine gun and fired several rounds into the main body of the beast, and then a whole cache into the tentacles attacking the two men. Jacqueline pulled out the stave she had taken, but forgot how to use it.

"Let's see…the unique ability of this thing is to.." Jacqueline pondered, putting her finger on her chin.

"To stun, you stupid bitch! Place it on it's end in the sand, and press the button located along the length, it'll emit pulsating waves of sound that should distract the thing!" Marillia screamed.

As the waves of sound echoed from the centerpiece of the staff, a glowing green indentation that was mechanically engineered from the explosion in technology around the beginning of the cataclysm. Each tentacle besides the one's pinioning Mark began to recede in the ground, as the sound waves shook and rattled their minute brains.

"That gives me time to figure out what this new specimen could be." Marillia said.

Inside Mark's mind, a different sort of battle was being waged. As the human in the conflict, he could only sit idly by and watch the battle of words. The form that Astaroth always assumed while talking to Mark sat a table. Across from him sat a man with undeniably snake-like features. He was entirely naked, and his body was covered in an endless tattoo that also resembled a snake. It began at the tip of his forehead, and ended in a curving, twisting manner at the bottom of his feet.

"What do you want with me, creature?" Astaroth asked.

"I know you are going to the Temple. I am a newly-appointed Guardian of this area. However, I know who you are from Vitnos." The man replied.

"Really? Vitnos? He must be watching my every move. That intelligent bastard." Astaroth said, groaning. The man stood up from his seat and obliterated the table with some hidden power.

"You are not part of the plan. You are trying to save these wretched humans. I, Muersault, will prevent you from reaching our holy land." The man said, defiantly.

Astaroth contemplated the man's agenda for a time. Each second, Mark felt his body being crushed even further. The pain had finally began to tear apart his mind, as he watched the room around him turn blood-red and crack.

You have no time, Astaroth!

"This is such a common, and actually frustrating misconception. I do not take sides with either humans or demons like myself. I act in my own best interest, and I merely wish to visit the Temple to see something. I hope you realize that you yourself used to be a human, but you let Vitnos corrupt your soul. Demons, humans, you are all different shades of the same plague. I act in the best interest of my Elders, and after that, this planet's."

Muersault's body began to exuberate several shades of red, while Mark began to cry out in pain. Astaroth looked over at the human spectator, and smiled. In the demon's eyes, he saw some form of safety. Mark let the demon do what he needed. The room faded as reality settled in. He could hear his friends yelling in his direction, but every voice mingled together with his increasingly loud heartbeat. Before the creature could truly crush his body, his left hand once again exploded in shades of blue light as an immense wave of power annihilated the bonds of each tentacle. Mark's eyes were blue as the ocean as he settled on the ground, his wounds evaporating from his body. He turned to look at his friends while the befuddled snake demon furiously thrashed and twisted. They stared back, silenced, as Mark ran back towards them.

"What are you all doing?! Kill it while we still have the chance!!" Mark yelled. Marillia was still busy at her computer, scouring the limited demon database that the City had analyzed and compiled over the recent years. There had been no records of the beast that was bent on killing all of them. However, she did find small traces of similar demons, who were killed in strange ways that were not clearly described.

"Records show that snake demons have been seen before. They were all either killed by severing the main spinal cord, or just through a prolonged battle. These creatures have a finite level of stamina and can be worn down through time. However, most encounters provided nothing" Marillia said.

"Yeah, Mar, I don't really think that we can last much longer here. This thing is much different. It's another hybrid, but it can never revert to human form so long as it lives. Vitnos made this thing, and I'm sure he made it so there was not a clear way to defeat it!" Mark replied.

As Mark said this, Muersault stood still, and opened it's mouth as wide as it could. Energy began to pool into it's extended mouth, forming a small ball of reddish-purple mass. With each passing moment, the ball expanded and pulsated. Tsume began to walk towards the creature.

"Are you an idiot, Tsume?!" Jon yelled.

He ignored Jon, and continued to advance on the creature. The ball of energy began to fit the gaping mouth of the creature, as it reared back in preparation to obliterate the humans as well as most of the earth around them. Tsume steadied his gigantic sword and then slammed it into the sand. At the angle he had pushed it in, the sword was diagonal to his body and the bottom part was close to his left foot. He then placed one hand on the handle of the blade, and the other on the flat side that faced towards him. A strange force began to breathe from the blade, coating Tsume and forming a tiny speck of discolor in the air in front of the blade. This then expanded and formed a protective shield. Tsume blinked as Muersault unleashed a torrent of energy at him. The death beam collided with the shield and diverted it's power in other directions, while the blade began to absorb the strength of the attack. The rest of the party was safe behind Tsume, watching the wild energy fly in other directions as well as wondering how the Japanese man was accomplishing this. His sword began to expand and grow as well as emit the same red-purple power from the demon. After a few minutes, Tsume yelled something in Japanese and spun in a circle, dragging the blade with him. After a one-hundred eighty degree arc, he let the power of his blade fly out in a stream of energy towards Muersault. The retaliatory attack broke through the demon's, and connected with the demon's body. The resulting effect sliced clean through the snake-like body. Blood spurted in fountains out of it's corpse and bathed Tsume's body as he sighed in relief. He then slumped to the ground, his death implement at his side.

After taking a small rest at the bottom of the sand cliffs, it didn't take long for the remnants of Muersault to be swept over by the sands, and it's blood mingled with the air, lost to time. Everyone was congratulating Tsume's strange achievement, except Mark. He ignored Mark's dissent and explained what happened.

"Okay so, this blade was fashioned to absorb different forms of energy and expand to withstand that energy. Over time, the scientists back at the City - including Marillia over there - were able to change the idea of the blade into something that could not only resist energy, but be able to reflect it back at it's source. I'm not exactly sure about the entire science behind it, but that's basically what I did. I've been trying to test the limits of this blade for at least a year now. I never knew it could take that demon's blast, honestly." Tsume said, boastfully.

Jacqueline was amazed by Tsume's power and hung on his arm like a doting puppy. Mark rolled his eyes, but was not surprised by her attraction to powerful men. She had after all tried to flirt with a gay guy because of Astaroth. The death of the snake demon also caused the sands to cease slightly, allowing for better view of the desert around them. The valley was still many leagues away, and time was definitely not on their side. Mark began to think, now free of images of Andrew. So…Vitnos is corrupting his own kind. There are more hybrids than could be imagined, but on the outside they are full demons. How can he be so disrespectful of humanity when he used to be one? It makes no sense. Whatever. The sun had begun to set as the day was coming to a close. Each hour, the sands lost their light and joy, and the world became pitch black, like an abyss. Everyone remained silent for the rest of the journey. Jon noticed something peculiar in the distance, suddenly.

"It's supposed to be night, right? Why do I see a lot of light in the distance? We haven't changed hemispheres that easily." Jon said.

It was true, the darkness that usually heralded night had no effect on the area surrounding the valley. In fact, it looked to be as clear as a few hours ago.

"There's something going on here that I can't quite figure out." Jon remarked, before falling silent.

A cool breeze circled around the area, scattering sand wherever it went. Mark watched as it uprooted a cactus and swung it around like a playful toy. As the breeze changed it's mind, the cactus fell to the ground and strangely reattached itself to the ground almost instantaneously. Everything around the area seemed to either heal itself, or not die. Untainted animals, a rarity on the planet, were also being carried by the zephyrs. Some were even flung headfirst into cliffs and terraces created by years of erosion and terrestrial movement. What would be a killing blow did not affect them at all. Mark shook his head and focused on their goal far off.

"So, Mark, how many dicks have you sucked?" Tsume asked.

Mark ignored him.

"You bring that shit up again and I will make sure the next thing we run into will eat you first." Mark retorted, angrily.

"Haha. Seriously, though. Where'd you even come from? You remember what life was like before all of this bullshit. Why don't you tell us about the Earth before the Apocalypse?" Tsume asked.

A definite sigh escaped Mark's lips, but he didn't resist.

"There was no such thing as demons. They were merely superstitions, legends, myths. People believed that God implanted them in people like me because of what I did with other men. Others believed they were present in everyone, predisposing us to sin. Both of them are bullshit, of course. There were no physical demons going around slaughtering everyone. Each day was a new heaven, or a new hell, for most people who lived. I was fortunate in that I worked a job that paid well. I didn't have to rely on the scraps of others, and I surely didn't have to climb on top of others to secure a position in society. In reality, the real demons were people. Several cases I investigated, including my last one that somehow placed me here, allowed me a glimpse into the rotten side of humanity. Yeah, we're all sinners, but some of us just take it to the next level. Really fucked up people…they were just like what we're fighting today. It's odd because, really, that makes this Apocalypse just a battle between us. Whatever, I'm not really good at metaphorical shit. Every day had a set pattern of sunlight, rain, snow, and other normal weather conditions. There wasn't any real difference in our world…only we had more happiness. You people are all depressed, without hope. I myself don't care what happens to this place. I lost the one person I could trust, and now I'm being forced down a path with no idea of where it will lead. Anything else you guys wanna know?" Mark asked, looking sullenly into the distance.

"Besides losing that friend of yours, what broke you, Mark?" Jacqueline asked, innocently.

Mark looked at her, unsure of how to answer. 'What broke me?' What the fuck does she mean? Ugh…I don't get any of these people. I'm not smart enough to understand this shit. He looked away as the tremors started again. Only this time, they were at least twice as powerful.

"Are there…more of them?!" Jon asked, shocked.

The ground gave way around the entire party, as four sets of tentacles broke through the sand, freeing themselves from their tomb. Four identical snake bodies erupted from the ground and faced them. Since their demonic bodies were the same, Mark had the faint suspicion that they were all the same human, too.

"Guys…I think these are clones." Mark said.

Hundreds of tentacles shot out of the ground and grabbed all five people before slamming them hard on the ground several times. After seven body slams, all of them were unconscious from the pain. The Muersaults carried off their prize to an unknown location.

Mark had another dream during his unconsciousness. He visualized another euphoric ball of color that encased him and one other man. His mind began to draw conclusions as to the identity of the man. Clothed in pure, flowing robes of white, he resembled but also opposed the look of the priest-like figure from the previous demon mass. He reached out his hand and Mark accepted it. The Priest smiled to Mark and in his mind, Mark felt peace. It had been a long time since he felt such a feeling. The ball around them exploded and reshaped itself into visions of the past. In them, Mark saw his childhood. The Priest spoke.

"When you were seven, you were a blissfully ignorant child. You grew up in a modest, religious house with no siblings to compete with, and tons of friends to hang out with. You capitalized on the ability to be seven years old, and made sure that your youth would never be wasted. When the time came for you to grow up, you accepted the change with open arms."

The image distorted and sped to four years later.

"When you were eleven, puberty hit you as hard as it did any other child your age. You found out what sex was, you found out you were different. You hid from your parents more and more. Privacy became a demand, not a privilege. The two parental figures in your life became toys to manipulate. Their relationship with you began to wane."

The third image was a year later, when Mark had been kicked out.

"Desolated and alone, you fled from society and sold your body to people and ideas that you thought you could live off of. After a long time in such a disgusting state, you were saved by a man who would become your mentor, am I correct? No, he was more than your mentor. You fell in love with him over time. Your life was restored by your savior. The depression you had became an afterthought as happiness replaced it. Then, he died. You died. You woke up in a deeper hell."

The image became distorted again as the replay of Andrew's gruesome death repeated itself over and over. Mark couldn't handle it.

"STOP IT!!" Mark screamed at the robed man. The Priest turned to him, and looked directly into his eyes.

"This is your life again, Mark. No one is going to hold your hand. It is time you made decisions for yourself, without Andrew, without Astaroth." The man began to look around him, his voice became frightened.

"There is no time. Study my features, Mark. Remember them. Trust me, you will need to prevent your mind from forgetting."

Mark proceeded to study his features. The man had short brown hair, and his eyes matched the hair with a hazel coloring. The man was built but not completely buff, showing off a slender physique. The robes that he wore swallowed up his entire body. Something felt familiar in the man, but he couldn't place a finger on it.

"I'll see you la--" His voice shattered as Mark woke up from the dream.

Jon and Marillia ended up in the same cell together. Tsume and Jacqueline could be seen across the way from them. One strange coincidence was that the doors that barred their way were open, and no effort was made to bar them in the prison. The four of them looked around and concluded that they were all underground. Marillia studied the features of the prison.

"It's not very sturdily built. I'm sure it's nothing more than a very, very simple tomb constructed by equally simple creatures. I'd estimate we're at least three hundred feet underground. There's no sign of any traps in the room, really. I suspect there are going to be some if we leave this place." Marillia said.

"Well, if we're all okay let's try to get out of here. I'm sure Mark is around here somewhere." Jon replied.

Jacqueline cupped her hands to her mouth.

"Hey! I'm okay but Tsume's going to need some time to rest! We need to stay here until he can walk!" Jacqueline yelled across the way.

"Jacqueline! We have no time! You can have him lean on you for a little while, then I'll take over!" Jon yelled back.

A faint voice could be heard further down from them. It became louder until Jon recognized it as Mark's.

"Guys! We have to go! There's something down here and I'm telling you, if we stay here we will all die!" Mark yelled. He stopped at the intersection of the two cells where the other four were, and caught his breath. Jacqueline began to shoulder Tsume as Jon and Marillia stood up and walked over to Mark.

"What's going on here, Mark?" Marillia asked.

"I woke up after a strange dream and heard the walls around me moving in on themselves. My cell was maybe a mile or so south of us. The long passageway that divides the cells is just a large trap. There's a wall that is packed with spikes slowly making it's way in this direction, and as it passes by each cell, that cell closes in on itself." Mark said.

The five of them turned and saw the wall in the distance, only it was much different than Mark described. Swords lined either side of a massive protrusion ripping itself from the wall. It howled unintelligible words and screamed in agony as it's skin broke free of the wall. It's new form was that of a large, muscled human whose face and chest resembled that of a woman's. The skin of the demon was the same texture as the wall, and the same color. It's hair and body were brittle stone, but it could move as fluidly as a living being. It could not escape the wall and was stuck with only half of it's body protruding out. It had large breasts that dangled to and fro as it moved. In its hands, large stone swords appeared, but it flailed these hands about so erratically that it probably didn't use them whatsoever. The creature was the very embodiment of pain as each movement elicited a loud scream from its mouth. Mark began to turn and run in the opposite direction, and the other four followed suit. The pathway winded through several sharp turns, and no matter how many times Mark looked back, the wall continued to keep going, bending itself around every turn. It had begun to pick up speed with the addition of the other four members. The smell of blood must have overcome its undying agony. After a few minutes, the pathway emptied out and a large abyss appeared in front of them. Mark took the time to notice the new predicament. Everything was dull shades of brown, with torches lighting up each pathway and section of the tomb. Large rock formations formed rock icicles in the ceiling, and some even broke off periodically, without an echo heard from the bottom of the abyss. However, Mark noticed a small ledge that extended all the way to the other side of the cavern, where the passageway continued.

"Alright, we have to climb along the side of this place, let's go!" Mark yelled.

Each person began to hug the wall and with as much speed as they could muster, moved quickly across the small ledge. Halfway across, Mark tore his hand away as a wrecking ball burst through the wall and slammed into the other one, seemingly getting stuck in the wall on the other side. Dust could be seen emanating from the other hole, so Mark knew it would swing back again and destroy any chance of getting past.

"We gotta jump to the other part of the ledge!" Mark yelled again.

The screams of the demonic wall were closer than ever, as everyone turned and saw that it had made it to the edge just before the hole. It flailed it's arms in confusion, unsure of what to do next. Mark jumped over to the other side, as did Jon, before the creature knew exactly what to do. Using the leverage of the rest of the wall that distended behind it, it crossed the hole slowly, heading for the other side. It's goal was to plug any other exit. The two women leapt across as easily as they could. Tsume's leap was weak and half-hearted, as he barely managed to get a hold of the ledge. Jacqueline helped him up and they continued to slide across to the other side. The demon wall was halfway across the hole as the party continued down the new passageway. It's screams became even louder and it's speed increased. The path twisted and turned just like before, and finally ended at a large door. Mark pounded his fist against it, and tried to push on it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Fuck, what are we going to do now?" Mark asked.

"Fight." Tsume replied.

"Are you stupid? That thing will kill us all." Mark said.

"Astaroth will save us." Jon replied.

"No, I won't."

Why not?

"You can find a way out of here on your own." Astaroth said.

Mark was confused as to why Astaroth thought he could talk to anyone else besides him, but didn't dwell on it. He turned and pushed on the door as much as he could, with the others joining him. The demonic wall was within ten feet of their location, as the door gave way with a loud creak and the five people fell through. Mark turned and saw the stone creature shed tears of clay, as if losing someone close to itself. There's something about that thing…feels like home. He turned and saw a long hallway with yet another trap. "God dammit." Mark said, sighing.

The hallway was narrower than the previous passageway, and the texture of the tomb became more metallic. A grinding and slamming motion could be heard echoing down the passageway. Large steel spikes protruded from either side and then slammed into each other. They pulled back afterwards, then a minute later, collided again. There were many such traps littered through the tunnel. Mark figured the rest of them knew what to do, it was just a game of timing. The first spike trap was easy, after it pulled away you could easily walk past it. Mark waited until the others got past it, and then he turned to the second. This time, it was two sets of spike traps close to each other, and timed differently so the first trap would close as the second one opened. This one could definitely kill us. Mark stepped forward after the first one opened, and as the second one pulled away he ran through to the other side. The other four did the same, except for Tsume who was pierced by a spike through the side, but it only poked through some of the skin on his back, and nothing vital. The third trap was definitely impossible. Two spikes came from the ceiling and floor, while another two collided from the side. Every time the horizontal ones collided, the horizontal ones pulled back, but only enough to provide less than two feet of breathing room. Jon grasped Mark's shoulder and Mark nodded.

"I have an idea. Jacqueline, hand me your stave." Jon said.

He took his spear and her stave, and waited for the perfect moment. As the two side spikes pulled away, he stuck his spear between the two vertical spike pedestals. He then took Jacqueline's stave and placed it between the two side spike pedestals. This, fortunately, halted both of the traps as they tried to break through the obstacle. Each person climbed through the cross formed by the weapons and Jon pulled them out when everyone was through. The group turned around and saw a doorway from far off.

"That's our goal." Mark said.

As soon as he exhaled a breath, spikes shot out of the small part of the path that was in front of the door. They extended so far from all sides that it was impossible to get to the door. Then, the walls from above and below began to close in on the group.

"Oh my god! Are we gonna die here?!" Jacqueline screamed, frantic with fright.

"Take the door next to you." Astaroth spoke, inside of Mark.

Mark felt along the side walls, and one of them proved to be illusory. A green window appeared that led into another room, and the group headed inside. The new room was bathed in green light, and seemed to be the inside of two walls. Behind them, the ceiling and floor closed in and sealed them. Another green window appeared, and Mark saw a group of demons at a ritual table. He felt dizzy as his left hand became incensed with energy. The illusory door in front of them did not allow them entry, so the group sat and watched the proceedings. Mark collapsed on the floor and Astaroth began to speak for him.

"This is what I came here to see. Finally, I can witness the birth of my brother to this world." Astaroth said, with mirth.

"How did you know that that door was a fake?" Marillia asked, her hand beginning to shake with rage.

"Please. I've been here before. This place is merely a replica of something similar from where my Elders come from. I know my way around here, it's a shame that you all passed by so many hidden rooms where you could have escaped the traps. I do like the addition of them, though, adds a certain spice to this dull place."

"You…you bastard!" Marillia screamed at him, forgetting that it was just an emanation of Mark's hand.

"Calm down. We're here for what I need to see, for what you all need to see. This is how a demon forgets it's previous human self. This is how a demon is born. There are many other such places like this in the world, but this one assures one-hundred percent success. Anyways, I shall go back to watching from the sidelines. You can wake up now, Mark." Astaroth said, departing back into the recesses of Mark's mind. Mark woke up, startled, and remembered that he was still in the same room. He stood up and looked on as a hybrid like himself started to lose his humanity. He watched the ritual: From the Masks, to the wrist-cutting, to the final result. He saw exactly what he didn't want to become. That's my brother, Mark. His name is Zodiac.

Good for you, Astaroth. You're never going to make me a puppet.

Chapter 10: Puppet Judgment

"Who is this other man, Adam? I don't understand why he's here."

"Death needed a new play-toy. Once he exhausts his usefulness, Death will move on."

"He can do what we can't. That is very amusing."

"Andrew, what are we to do about Zodiac?"

"Hmm…"

Adam hummed a tune he had remembered from days long past while the car sped down one of the various highways he found himself on. He had no idea what it was, or where it came from. It troubled him, and he wondered why this sudden amnesia had disillusioned him so. He continued to hum as he saw winged hell-beasts fly overhead, one of them carrying a struggling, bloody human in it's claws. The sound of death cries and screams of agony echoed around the area, but soon faded into distance as Adam did. He smiled to himself, because this was just the world he felt whole in. In the passenger seat was the sword that Death gave him. Every other second or so, a faint black aura encased it and then dispersed. Those times Adam felt a part of him be sapped away, though he wasn't sure what. A faint memory, perhaps…maybe a piece of his own soul. The sky above and around him was dark and gloomy, and yet some celestial light bathed the city in a periwinkle tint.

"You're quiet, Death. Something wrong?"

Don't tempt me, Adam. I can cut the thread of your life as easily as Clotho can.

"Forgive me. I'm not one to be very respectful of those who control my own existence. You're going to use me as a tool just like my past life. It's nothing new."

I can damn your soul forever, and you will never see your family again. The more you disrespect me the closer your life will come to ending.

Adam hesitated. He knew he was pushing boundaries that would make him regret his insolence in the future. In fear, he pushed on the gas pedal harder. Within a few seconds, the engine began to overheat.

"Uhhh…what the hell?"

The front part of the car burst into flames just as the car began to be lifted by some unknown force. Adam peered out the window and saw a titan-like figure with the car in his hands, as well as a fiery djinn circling around the car and exciting the flames with each touch.

"Uhm…Death, what the fuck do I do?"

Grasp your sword, and spread your wings.

"I get the first…oh. Fine."

Adam took hold of the sword to his right, and struggled to open the driver-side door. The efreet moved on top of the car and laid spread-eagle, heating the contents of the inside of the car at exponential rates. Adam's skin began to sizzle and tear as the door came open, flinging himself free of the car before it exploded. He landed on the concrete pavement with a thud, breaking several ribs and his left arm. He let out a cry of pain and struggled to get up as the titan and efreet moved toward him. Adam, while struggling, studied his enemies. The titan itself was just a large mass made of rock that erupted underneath the car to grab it. The only human-like features on it were eyes that seemed to be misplaced. Some were on it's arms, others on the sides of it's legs, and two almost in the right place. It had no mouth so as it moved the only sound that could be heard were it's rock legs shuffling and destroying the ground around it. The efreet however seemed to be entirely made of fire. It had black eyes that could pierce into Adam's inner soul. It assumed human form but as it moved it changed shape into whatever it felt like. At one point, a crease in the flames appeared like a mouth as a garbled cackle came out of the demon. The titan reared back one of it's arms, prepared to make Adam road kill. Within seconds, his wounds healed themselves and he rolled away from the titan's attack. Now, deal with them.

Adam pushed himself to his feet and grasped the sword with both hands in as best a stance as he could manage. The sword itself burdened him, as the metal was of heavy weight and he had always been poor at fencing. As Adam looked down at the piece of metal, he remembered something Death had mentioned before.

"Death, why can these demons see me? Isn't this periapt supposed to keep this from happening?"

These beings are creatures of the earth, given power by the demons to assume form in our plane of existence. They are merely controlled by the demonic forces in this world, not created by them.

"Wonderful."

The efreet glided towards him and began to create fireballs which it flung at Adam, catching him off-guard and singing his clothes. As it touched the ground, the concrete underneath it's feet melted and congealed. Flames were born off of it's body and spread across the ground towards Adam. He tried to dodge them, but the flames had a homing instinct. Instead, he charged toward the efreet, sword held high. The demon, in response, produced a burning sword and held it in a defensive stance. The swords collided, the flames licking at Adam's skin and face. However, the sword pulsated with the touch and gained strength, eating away through the sword and burying itself in the creature. It's garbled cackling became cries of anguish as it's flames began to die. Adam pulled the sword out and instead rammed it into the creature's chest point first. The length of the sword impaled the demon where it stood, and as it's flames died out Adam could see the creature underneath. It was a human, it's eyes melted and teeth destroyed, skin burned beyond recognition, looking more like a slab of melted lava instead of actual skin. As Adam dislodged the sword, the creature fell to the ground, twitching as nerves died.

"That was… a human. You're not telling me something, Death." Adam said, slight fear in his voice.

There was no answer. Adam grew angry, and lost focus on his other opponent, who blindsided him and smacked Adam twenty feet away. Again, ribs were cracked and splintered, organs pierced and pain echoing everywhere. This, too, healed itself and allowed Adam to stand on his feet. As another hand came forward he readied himself, and stuck the sword point-blank into the palm of the titan's hand. However, because the sword was embedded, the titan pulled Adam along with it. Sword and man were flung into rubble, walls, even unblemished buildings. Every time, his body miraculously healed itself. After a few minutes of playing with Adam, the titan began to try to shake him off. He took this chance to climb up the titan's arm. Halfway up was one of it's eyes, blinking and shaking with the rage felt by the titan. I wonder, what would happen if I played with one of it's eyes in the same way it played with me? Adam began to punch the eye repeatedly. He kept punching until his right knuckle was sore, and picked it back up with his other hand. Eventually, the eye bled and his hand broke through to something more solid. Underneath the eye was a pulsating core. Bingo. Adam took the core in both hands and began to pull, tearing some of the muscle inside the titan's arm. Before the core was torn completely apart, the titan slammed a fist into Adam, sending him flying. Adam's body rolled like a rag doll, but he soon came to a stop, just as his sword was thrown towards him. This time, there was no instant healing. I guess you want to me to take this thing down without your help. The right side of his body was numb to any sort of feeling, but he was able to take his sword in both hands. Adam charged ahead, resting his sword along his shoulder. The titan brought both hands down in an effort to pin Adam between both stone vices, but he rolled just before the moment of impact. He turned quickly and spotted the core again, slowly starting to heal over. Taking the sword in both hands like a dagger about to pierce Duncan's heart, he brought the sword down upon the core, dislodging it and bringing the stone creature to it's knees.

As Adam watched the creature disintegrate, he saw that the eyes on it's body were also human eyes, wedged into the creature in some sort of twisted fusion. Death has been lying to me. Everything around here is a hybrid, humans who were once "pure" have been melded into creatures from Hell itself. I'm not saying I don't like it or anything, in fact, I enjoy it. Death, not the creature inhabiting my body, but the act; it fills with me joy. I guess I am like him, in some ways. His head began to ache and his body felt weak. What…what was my wife's name? He shook his head and looked around at his environment once again. Sunset cast rays of light upon the ruins of the city. Buildings had been split in half, or barely remained standing. In the distance, even as close as a mile away, demon cries mingled with the screams of stranded humans made a cacophony that swam along with the breeze. The highway he was on was actually jutting out above sea level, as the rock underneath it had been morphed and distended outward. He peered over the edge, and like gazing upon madness he could see the suburbs of the city, covered in a thick darkness where no light or sound could come out. His periapt emitted a faint glow as a large two-headed griffon with elephant legs soared out of the mass, carrying something between it's two beaks. It moved so fast that Adam could not make out if it was human or not. Alright, so, not only is this place basically a scourge for humanity, but it's also a feeding ground for some of the most grotesque creatures I've ever seen. I've seen my fair share of horror films, but this takes the cake. I like this, too. He stood up and came face-to-face with the sun, it's last rays giving him a semblance of warmth. It was one of the few feelings he could remember from his past. It seemed that with each second, his past became distorted and corrupted. What are you doing to me? Death came from behind him, resting one cold, dead hand on his right shoulder. His presence made Adam shiver in the dark, and his soul felt more dead than before. It's just a passing change. You'll adapt quickly. I would not worry, myself. Aren't you more worried about your future than your past? If you aren't, you should be. Look around you, there isn't much safe haven to reminisce about your foolish life and the even more foolish decisions you made. Accept it, you do not need to remember. You are mine, and I want you to be as clear of thought as possible.

Adam sighed, looking down at the ground. He knew that he had no choice but to accept what was going to happen to him.

"Why is it that this sword is making me feel weak?" Adam asked.

"Because, it is made that way. The longer it cannot feed on souls, the more it will kill you. You see, the sword was made as a bridge between this world and my own. It could not be used by any of my other subjects, so I chose you to test it. It seems to be working perfectly. You have not explored all it can do, assassin. I hope you realize that time is not on your side as much as you think. With this sword and my power, you can essentially manipulate time as you see fit. However, there's a catch. If you tamper with time it also tampers with the sword's hold on you. Time already dislikes you as your very existence is a paradox. You should rightfully have died before this genocide occurred. I warn you to use your time on this Earth wisely. At any turn you may just be erased on a whim. Do as I say, think like I do and you will live."

"So where do I go, what do you want me to do?"

"There is a tower about five miles northwest of you. I need to meet someone at the top of this tower, and of course I cannot do it alone. The tower itself is about thirty floors tall. I hear it is filled with all sorts of demons, but you shouldn't be visible to them anyways."

"Alright, we'll go."

It was a long walk for Adam, Death had long since forgotten to heal him from previous injuries and one of his legs had gone limp. However, he persevered and continued to stare at his destination. What was so special about it? Adam had no idea nor did he want to question the powers that be. Demons flew around him, some even coming close to touching him as they passed by. He saw more of the same griffons but also a few winged, goblin-like monstrosities that had claws bigger than their heads. They fought with the griffons sometimes, sometimes winning but mostly losing and having their bodies ripped into sizeable chunks. Overgrown tigers with eyes that popped out occasionally and became tentacles tore apart the highway in a mad dash to who knows where. Everything seemed to have a goal or a motive, but like most everything else, Adam had no idea what. He merely took the stroll as a character study of the new rulesr of the planet. They seemed to be unlike humans in most every way, even the ones that most resembled hybrids. It was like their soul was being manipulated by a puppet whose strings came from the heavens. Adam longed to know who could create these death machines, maybe even how to make them. It would make finding Mark and Jon much easier for him. The ground became slightly uneven about three miles in, and even with that short distance to go he was stuck. Might as well tempt fate. Instead of looking at any other possible paths, he continued along the uneven, crumbling path ahead of him. He figured if it collapsed he would not fall very far, considering the jutting mountain underneath him. However, an odd silence pervaded the area he had wandered into, so it was difficult to say exactly what could happen next. Adam walked another ten feet before the ground began to shake and stir violently. He looked over the edge of the cliff and saw nothing but sheer rock underneath him. He blinked just as the ground gave way, and the illusion of the cliff disappeared. Underneath him lay a purplish miasma of a river, surging east, filled with serpents that could leap twice as high as any dolphin out of it. He felt the periapt glow again, and saw the serpents divert their attention away from him and instead to any falling debris or demon that fell with him. He saw tiny creatures that couldn't have been larger than a household cat but looked three times as disgusting be devoured in one swift movement by a snake-like creature with razored, bloody fins. The water underneath him was murky and as Adam's body was immersed in it, it came alive. He could feel the indigo substance cling to his skin, reach into his mouth and move down his throat. His breath came in short gasps as he tried to pull himself out of the water. He looked around, confused by what he saw. While he was falling the river had the look of a raging, turbulent stream that went to someplace, but now that he was being devoured by it, the river was still as a swamp. The serpents around him moved up and downstream as if the river was still moving, but to Adam it was just an illusion. Must be another one of those mind tricks that Death told me about. Illusion or not, the murky water had finally succeeded in suffocating him. He felt his body fill with the substance, and just as his eyes began to turn a shade of purple, Death's voice echoed inside of him. You can fix this. You are a time traveler, remember? I'll show you what to do. Death began to raise Adam's right arm, and then made his fingers snap. Everything around him was still, and the water became solid, frozen along with time itself. He picked himself up and began to cough out the purple substance. It came out as slow as molasses, but eventually he had ejected all of it out of his body. A pain soon filled his chest, bringing him to one knee. I don't have…much time. His limp became a working leg again, and he ran along the frozen water towards the other side, climbing up the cliff to the other side. The pain became more intense as he spent more and more time idling, so he snapped his fingers again and time resumed itself. A heavy weight lifted off his shoulders and he fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

As Adam collected himself, he began to think about the possibilities of the sword as well as his future. He knew that he had no way out of being Death's bitch, essentially. However, by manipulating time he could keep himself from dying…which was contrasted by the fact that the accumulation of the desire for killing that his sword held would slap him across the face. Every point in his life had been a double-edged sword, and this too was the same. In his life, Adam faced the same ultimatums, and had been forced to deal with the same situations. It was either his life, or someone else's. He always chose outside of himself. This time, every decision was his demise, the only choice being sooner or later. He resigned himself to dwelling upon killing Jon and Mark. Maybe their deaths would finally bring him peace. Maybe he could end this cycle of death upon death. Nah…I like killing too much. I can't escape this life as if it was a bad dream, or a bad habit. It's more than that. It's me. I need to stop second-guessing myself. I don't have much else to live for, so why try to make things different? He continued his journey towards the tower with a renewed fervor. The sword in his right hand felt lighter now, his body adjusting both to the physical and mental burden it placed on him. The highway he had been traveling on split into two different ways, and the left one headed west towards the tower. With just a glance towards the right way, he saw a flash of a woman and what looked to be her daughter. Who…are those people? Nothing, Adam. Nothing at all. Adam shook his head and followed the left path. It headed deeper into downtown, and he could see more and more demons gathered around the place, some in the pose of praying to an unknown figure. Everywhere, they moved in a religious manner. The tower that Death was pointing him to must be some sort of religious center. The towers that bordered around the central one were all untouched by any sort of destruction. In fact, they stood out in a sea of chaos. His periapt began to glow brighter and brighter in the presence of more demons. He looked at the demons passing by him. Some of them held his glance. Many were humanoid but also beast-like at the same time, many resembling minotaurs. A few select demons wore priestly robes that seemed contradictory to anything Adam had ever seen. How could these demons possibly think of Heaven, or any sort of religious figure? Isn't this new world supposed to be what Hell is like? The path wove around desecrated parts of the town before emptying into the tomb-like presence of the central towers. Everything inside the city center was pitch-black, outside of the demons moving in and out. It had become nighttime when Adam reached the entrance to the inner heart of the city. He could not see much in front of him, and the only light emanated from the jewel around his neck. He could feel beings around him, some even touching him or grazing his skin. Adam tightened his grip on his sword and it seemed to respond and increase it's thirst for death. Do not worry, they will not do anything to you. You see, you have entered this place as a human, that is why you cannot see and also why they sense your presence but do nothing. Many humans were taken here as special vassals for the "Greater Purpose" that Vitnos proposes for demon-kind. Oh, that's right, you don't know who Vitnos is, do you? A movie began to play in Adam's head as he walked in a random direction in the darkness. In the movie, he saw a man who wore a black vest and embroidered, blood-red pants. The man's face had been stretched slightly and his eyes were lizard-like. His hair was spiked along the middle and was bleached with white and black. He could see the man giving out orders to demons, directing them this way and that. The man reminded him of someone, but Adam forgot who. He has taken these demons and shepherded them into a future that will disregard humanity and the planet itself. There's really not much else to say, besides the fact that he wields powers that are beyond your own. Not even time can save you from this manifestation. The figure turned toward Adam, and opened it's mouth. The mouth began to expand and as it did the previous body was shed off like molted skin. In it's place was an alien-like figure with colorless eyes that were three times larger than a human's eyes. It's mouth opened up to reveal crystallized teeth with energy brimming from them. The creature had a lanky body with dark blue hair that was soon covered by a robe and hood. It raised it's arms, and it's skin was replaced by a human's, making a perfect façade. The movie ended then. As you see, I have very little information for what or who he is. I am sorry, really. The darkness peeled away soon after, and the tower stood in front of Adam. Here we go.

The doors opened almost automatically to his presence. His sword now felt like a twig as he deftly moved it around with ease. The inside of the tower was actually just large spiraling staircase that ascended all the way to the top. As Adam moved inside, the doors shut behind him and a large creature appeared in front of the staircase. It's body was composed of stitches and mixtures of animals, and it's head looked like that of a bull's, fit with horns as well. One arm was oversized, to the point where it could stand on it's own hand, as large as it was. Adam's periapt suddenly lost all of it's intensity and it's effect. What…?

"Welcome, traveler. You have been expected for quite some time now. I notice that you are still human, that is quite an oddity. I have been told not to let you up this staircase unless you prove that you are just as willing to kill as I'm led to believe. I go by the name of Edenmark."

It leapt off it's own hand and readied itself in an offensive stance. Adam responded in kind, readying his sword in front of him. The creature began to leap high and bounce off the walls in a rapid manner, making it almost impossible to see him. It seemed to use it's hand to propel itself from wall to wall. The creature then faded from view for a minute. Adam looked around himself but could see nothing. In a flash, the creature had grabbed Adam by his larger hand and threw him into the wall. Edenmark's eyes began to glow as small orbs of energy gathered in front of them. As soon as the globes became large enough, they flew off from the creature and collided with Adam repeatedly, like dribbling a basketball. He was left helpless until his sword began to act on it's own. Pulling Adam's arm with it, it acted like a bat, flinging the two globes in other directions. He used the sword to steady himself as he stood up again. Edenmark smirked and then leapt into the sky to perform it's wall hopping technique yet again. The globes of light returned to Edenmark's eyes as it moved. Adam prepared himself for the trick, and snapped his fingers. He turned around and saw his foe materialize slowly behind him, oblivious to his time trickery. He bent down to one knee and as the hand began to grasp at what would have been his body, Adam struck out with his sword in an arching uppercut, tearing at the creature's body, before snapping his fingers and jumping backwards to evade any retaliation. The creature made a slight noise but laughed at the new development.

"You can manipulate time. Handy, that." Edenmark said.

The creature cradled it's wound, letting the smaller hand heal it with a strange bluish magic. The wound sewed itself up much like the stitches covering it's body. Faster than Adam could blink, the larger hand reached out and tendrils of energy reached out of the palm of it's hand, encompassing Adam's body. The tendrils disappeared but the constriction remained. He could feel his body being squeezed and confined and as his bones broke he felt more pain than he had ever felt in his new existence. Death was not healing him, it was as if he couldn't reach him in this tower. His sword began to shake and rumble in his hand and his body began to crumple from the force being exerted.

"It appears I have you in my trap. I guess you are not worthy to climb this staircase. The path to Heaven lies here, for all of you insipid humans."

The creature then flicked his hand and sent Adam crashing between the walls of the tower. Even the staircase became an nemesis and a source of more pain. Every time his body smacked against some hard surface, his sword seemed to cry with him. He could feel a new force inside of it, though, as his vision became soaked in crimson red. The creature had him near the top of the staircase, thirty floors up. It was teasing him, edging him near the entrance to the top and then easing him off. However, Adam's sword could not be restrained any longer. As it implanted it's will inside of Adam, a renewed strength came with it. The cloak of black that covered the sword also covered Adam. The invisible bonds around him shattered as he fell back down to the bottom. His body felt like nothing to him, no matter what could happen next. He positioned his sword in front of him, and as he touched the bottom it cushioned the force of gravity that came with him, allowing Adam to turn himself around and land on the ground beneath. He plucked the sword from the ground and rushed towards Edenmark with all of his strength. The larger hand pushed him into a wall, but Adam buried his sword in the hand, extracting blood and making it ease off him. With speed unknown to him before, he dragged the sword along Edenmark's arm, splitting it open before cutting open Edenmark's chest with a heavy swing of his death implement.

"I am surprised you did that, but I mock the fact that your sword does the work for you. Go on, traveler." Edenmark said, as his wounds healed instantaneously.

It took Adam a while to walk up the staircase, because after the sword finally quenched it's thirst, he felt completely drained and weak. Every step had been of monumental difficulty to ascend. At the top there was a door that led to the rooftop. He opened it, instantly being drenched by a torrent of rain. As he closed the door behind him, Death appeared by his side, looking tense.

"Who are we to meet here?"

"You'll see."

Two figures, appearing to shape and bend the reality around them, formed in front of the two. One was in a dark red priest-monk garb and hood, who was most definitely Vitnos. The other was an oddity. He was also in priest robes but he was actually a human. There was no signs of any façade. His hair was light blonde with a tinge of brown, and his eyes were green.

"Death, good to see you. It's been a while." The man remarked.

"Yes…it has. Anyways, we have some business with you. Well, mainly I do."

"I see you've brought your new toy here. Great. You both know Vitnos, correct? Well, I am Andrew. Though, please do not call me by that name. I go by a better name, Xaphan."

Great. I'll be a tool of three people at once.

"And remember, Adam. As much as you might despise your predicament, death is the road to awe." Andrew remarked, smiling.