Kioki

Hopeless came to mind.

Here lies a devastated world where death and destruction are treated like innocent toys, wielded by playful beasts wreaking havoc with every imaginative move. Self declared messiahs are standing on soap boxes everywhere, modestly attempting to scurry to the humble seat of Yertle in order to be seen by all. And as most people in the world were aware of at this point, god was dead.

Hopeless definitely came to mind.

Kio hung his head in despair as he sat in a warehouse and listened to the sounds of stagnant soil, the chorus of chaos, and the crunching. The crunching was the worst. The crunching and the screaming. The crunching and the screaming and the flames.

Above the World

Victoria could hear the demons coming long before she saw them. She darted quickly behind a small dented garbage can, holding her knees to her chest. The demons weren’t coming this way, she knew, but it didn’t hurt to stay out of the way until they were gone. It had been a while since the last demon incident, which meant that everyone in the tenement where she lived was becoming more and more cautious. They could strike at any moment. Victoria pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ease the pressure the demons’ presence inflicted on her sinuses, but like always, it didn’t work. Staring out at the grey street before her, Victoria tried to figure out another way to get to the bar on Main Street. She had a small sack of food waiting for her there, but the demons were heading in that direction as well. If she went back toward the tenement, but kept walking, and then made her way past the old firehouse, she could climb up to the small catwalk along the long row of apartments. That would keep her out of the demons’ sight for a while.

Soon, her head felt clear again, and Victoria peered out from behind the garbage can. The street was empty except for a trio of magpies and an empty can of soup, rolling and clattering as gravity pulled it along. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a beeping. She wasn’t sure what it was—she wasn’t sure what caused half of the noises she heard—but it was probably nothing to worry about. She stood up, readjusted her messenger bag, and started off on her detour.

There was a bell in the firehouse belfry. Once, the bell had rung endlessly as the demons’ attacks increased. Victoria was too young to remember much, but she remembered this bell. How after a while, it became background noise to the constant sirens and screams, the explosions, the metallic buzz of demons flying through the air or the sharp sound of their claws on asphalt. And one day, it fell silent, and she knew that the city had fallen. The streets had seemed emptier then, and every face she came upon seemed just as devoid of life. It hadn’t rung since, not even in a gust of wind. This was probably a good thing. The remaining population had nerves of spider’s silk. Well…that wasn’t entirely true.

Victoria spotted the ladder of the fire escape that would lead her to the catwalks. She moved a milk crate beneath the ladder, stood on top of it, and pulled on the string to release it. The ladder caught her on the shoulder. She hissed at the sting, and climbed up. Shadows of people moved on the other sides of the windows behind thick curtains made of bedsheets, and Victoria tried not to let her footsteps fall too loudly on the metal grating. She circled up and up, past attempts at a city garden, long withered, past laundry that consisted mostly of socks and t-shirts. Hanging anything too valuable was a bad idea. The apartment building was seven stories high, and Victoria had to hold her head against the dizziness. When she made it to the top, her breath caught at the view.

It wasn’t anything beautiful, unless the silhouette of singed buildings against a ghastly-looking sky could somehow be beautiful, but there was just so much of it. She knew the city was big, but she had never actually realised it. She laughed half-heartedly to herself as she spotted her tenement. There was also the demolished water tower far off in the distance. She saw dark spots that she knew must be demons, or places where they had stayed for extended periods of time. The bar was further to her left. She saw a figure walking down a main road. He had the recognisable gait of someone whose soul was about to eat him alive. Victoria didn't really understand the disease, as some of her mates were calling it, but she pitied the man.

A sudden gust brushed past her, and she realised that she was almost sticking out up here. She continued along. The catwalk was unstable, and at several points, the metal supports looked completely separate from the crumbling brick holes around them. Victoria looked down at the debris-filled streets, completely empty. She jumped across a gap between buildings, her heart racing as she grabbed for the railing to keep herself from falling. Jumping still wasn't her strongest talent. But, she was walking above the rest of the world, and for a moment, she thought that even though the world went to shit, and even though the world was literally hell on earth, how cool was it that she was above it all?

I've Never Been Good at Titles (1st Rhylin Post)

Here you go Chris, it's not all, but it's what I've been able to write so far and enough of a stopping point to post it. I'm hoping its understandable, but I know there are probably a few places where what the reader gets out of it is not exactly what I was thinking of, but everything will be further explained later.
Also stuff about wings... yeahhhh... just let me know XD

Um, for the new people I don't know at all... hi, I'm Katie aka Rhylin in the story.

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The wrought iron was overrun with vines that darted in and out of the twisting metal work, multiplying the intricacies with which the eye had to dance around in trying to read the simple lettering of the sign: FARLEY’s. Rhylin stood beneath the immense archway, forehead pressed against the rough bars of the gate, her hands curled tightly around the spires as they narrowed into a rusted joint. The air was thick, heavy with silence and a heat that had settled into Rhylin; her wings drooped beneath the cloak she wore, appearing withered, the expanse of them crumpled at her feet and coated in a fine layer of dust.

Just inside the gates, a bird alighted from its perch, startling Rhylin’s eyes open. She took a shallow breath, not wanting to take the stale, still air into her lungs, not wanting to fill herself with an emptiness she did not have the means to defy.  Wearily, Rhylin nudged open the small door inlaid in the gate and began her trek across the cemetery grounds.

As she neared the unmarked grave, Rhylin recalled the small mutilated body that lay below; its misshapen face beyond recognition. It had no nose. A flap of skin stretched from the forehead to cover the gaping hole. Snot dribbled from the spaces between stiches and crusted over on the top lip. The cheek bones were sharp peaks that threatened to split the taut, tissue paper skin. Green eyes, sunken into the face, had once roamed its surroundings intently, determined to reap all the benefits.

Reaching the edge of the plot, the muscle infused to the thin metal of her wings began to stretch and tear away from Rhylin’s back, sending tremors down the length of her spine and drawing out a long piercing scream that reverberated in the quiet that followed. Rhylin’s wings burned; it felt as if their own weight had been magnified and were now being ripped from her body.

Rhylin collapsed to her knees before the grave, tears flooding from her eyes; the ground beneath her hungrily absorbing them. Pounding her fists against the dirt and trembling with the effort to ignore the increasing spasms, Rhylin implored the deformed flesh underneath, “Release him.”


(I would also like to point out that the time posted lies, it is currently 4:36 am >.< )

Generic Q & A (always good to have one)

Got questions? Ask away! People with answers will reply asap XD

Baptism and Reconciliation

Orating and its Consequences

The whole town was gathered in the tiny bar on Main Street. If someone walked down the streets they would swear the whole place had been abandoned. Nothing moved. Not the wind, or the stay cats that roved, or the trash overflowing from the can. It was all still. All of the energy was centered in that tiny room hanging on every word that slipped gracefully from the mouth of the young man standing on the stage that was meant to hold a small band that entertained slightly drunken town folk.

He was quite a sight. He looked like a rapscallion with his hair grown out slightly and his beard beginning to grow in. But, he had an air of elegance about him. The words he spoke spun a web that had enticed the whole town like willing flies to the black widow’s feast. His blue eyes shone bright as his story picked up speed. The audience was enchanted. He had the magical ability to make everyone feel as if they were being spoken to directly.

“And then suddenly the sky was on fire!” There was a collective gasp. “This huge ball of flame came hurtling to the ground. I thought it was a meteor or a satellite, or god forbid one of those awful hulking beasts. When it collided in into the ground, the earth shook so hard I thought my skin would rip open. Then, everything became deathly still and the only thing I could think was ‘Get the hell out of here.’ What if was one of the monsters? But as soon as I took a step, I heard a voice in my head. “Come,” it said. So, I listened.” The man laughed at himself and the crowed let out their breath for a moment. “I went into the giant crater. Normal people don’t do that. But, voice implored me and there was no way I could deny it. The closer I got to the impact site, the warmer and more peaceful I felt.”

The crowd watched with bated breath. All except a single figure in the back sitting at the bar, half listening to the story she could recite from memory. New town, same story. Same gimmick to receive a warm bed and some scraps of food. She watched her brother build up speed at his tale began to approach its climax. He lived off of the rush. He lived to tell stories, and had found his calling in restoring hope to these small towns that trying just to stay on the map. She had followed him. No, not followed. She pledged herself to his cause, and joined him. After what she had seen at the beginning, she too let herself be bolstered and comforted by the soothing words. But after years, the magic had grown stale. It is easy to become disillusioned with hope, when you are constantly faced with the suffering of a God forsaken world.

“A voice then whispered, and I swear, I could hear it I my soul. It said, ‘God is dead.’” Madison let that news sink into the audience. He relished the drama of the moment before he spoke again. The fear that entered into their eyes. Their worst nightmare was realized. There was no one looking out for them. There was no higher cause. Their souls had been abandon and left to fester in oblivion. But, all was not lost, because he still had more to speak. “’Yes, God is dead,’ the voice echoed. ‘It is now up to you to find the new God, and raise him up like a phoenix reborn from the ashes!’ With that, a sword and shield were made from that crumpled mass of energy that lay in the center of the crater.” He unsheathed the sword that was strapped to his back. It was ethereal silver, and seemed to glow as he raised it over his head for the crowed to see. “I wield the Sword of Baptism, and my sister the Shield of Reconciliation.”

“We are here to right your wrongs,” It had come to here part of the script. She stood among them, shield off her back and strapped onto her arm. “And to find this world a new King.”

The crowed was talked aback by being addressed by someone behind them. They turned to face her, and met a warm smile like her brother’s. There was a cheer, and tears and whispered Hallelujah’s. They were saved. There was hope.

***

 “Leigh, are you ok?” Madison asked between bites. Their meal had been provided by one of the charitable families in town. After many questions and thank you’s, Leigh and Madison had been left to eat and be merry in a corner of the bar, while the rest of the town celebrated the news they had been given. The band had taken their rightful spot on their stage, and the bar was alive with dancing and cheer. They normally fed off the energy and celebrated right along with the town, but Leigh was disengaged from the scene.

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Really. I’m fine,” She rubbed her forehead. Her head was sodden with pain, she was trying not to let Madison know but it was futile. “I just have a bad feeling.”

All the joy vanished from Madison’s face. “Is there a monster on its way?”

“No. I mean I don’t know. There are a few really strong broadcasters here, and all I can hear is them.” Her eyes were back on her food. She hated talking about her “blessing” as Madison called it. “It doesn’t feel like a monster. It just feel’s,” She searched for words but couldn’t find any, “bad.” Her brother’s brow furrowed. “Madison, there is nothing to worry about. I’m just being over loaded.”

Madison locked eyes with her and gave a short curt nod. Then his face broke out into a huge grin, and he started talking about how they would help the town fortify it’s borders and tell them a little about defense against the monsters and then they would be on their way. Under the table, Madison’s foot made contact with Leigh’s leg. The contact was small and wouldn’t normally suffice, but it was Madison, Leigh knew no one in the world better. We are being watched.

Leigh nodded along to the words pouring from Madison’s mouth. She interjected a piece about also teaching them some basic first aid while she discreetly scanned the room for those watching them.

Sure enough, a table across the room kept stealing furtive glances. There were three burly men that Madison had spoken to upon entering the village. They seemed to be the leaders. It was not an official classification but everyone in the town trusted them and relied on their judgment for important decisions. The forth guest was a blonde girl, maybe one of their daughter’s. She was beautiful. Her hair had a slight curl to it and her skin was smooth and had a warm glow to it. Suddenly, the girl’s eyes snapped up, and met Leigh’s. Leigh was paralyzed; the deep blue eyes bore into her. There was not aggression, but there was a fire in the look.

The vision was overwhelming. Gold and silver limbs entwined together under the sheets. Fire falling from the sky, a figure being born from the impact. Then there were other figures. Some hulking, some flitting. Then a shadow, and a huge monster consuming the world for beneath them. His horns long and twisted, his tongue extended out  ripping people and inserting them into his fearsome jaws. His arms ripped through the world destroying all. But the figure that was born from the impact came back. He was glowing. The glow was not a definite color. He had transcended that state. He was pure glowing energy. That specter raised his hand towards the demon. And then, it dissolved into blackness.

Leigh’s body crumpled to the ground. Madison was immediately on his feet tending to her. Soon, she was in his arms and being lead towards a room upstairs to recover. The three men at the table looked at the girl, fear in their eyes. She didn’t acknowledge them. Instead she stood and followed Madison to the room upstairs. There was business to be discussed. 

The Hangman

WARNING: The following post is probably going to get taken down. I'm putting it up because it's now 8am and I would feel incredibly dumb putting all this work in and not posting it. THAT BEING SAID... I probably need to try again, or maybe write about something else... I don't know. This post is just really gruesome and also sad, and also really long, like nine pages should never happen on this. Ever... I'm sorry. I just... yea wow... sorry... Riley don't let Kelsey read this I don't want this to be her first impression of me...

The Hangman

Her mother’s blood bubbling out of the uneven holes in her chest as the soon to be cadaver’s lungs desperately flung her chest outward and inward vainly attempting to oxygenate the same blood which was by the very same process all too quickly being pumped out of her system, was the fifth from last thing on Amy’s list of things that are never good things. Now of course I know your question is why would a little girl keep such a list and how could it possibly be that comprehensive. Well I suppose you could assume she’s a dedicated writer, or maybe she lives hiding in the rubble of what used to be an apartment complex with her mother and two much older men. The point is maybe you have a lot of paper you need to fill up.

Regardless of all that the important thing is I want you to ignore the woman dying on the ground and please in your imagination create the mental image of this list. Now remember the girl’s imaginary list is incredibly comprehensive, and if you’re imagining it correctly it should be incredibly big like so big that you think the only thing that could manage it well would be a dedicated team of elf scholars, but you can’t imagine any elf scholars because you’re mind, if you’re doing this right, is almost certainly spending all of it’s capacity imagining infinite rolls of paper filled with horrible things that could potentially happen which is in fact infinite.

It’s infinite for one because there’s a lot of really bad things that could happen and for two because you’re very thorough so you have to list every part of your mother that could be violently penetrated by the dark brown blood covered tongue that now slowly curls back up behind a set of horrifying  twisted teeth that look so warped that you can only assume that the means of them getting into that mouth required either a screwdriver, or a wrench, but you’re not making a list of tooth insertion instruments are you.

No, you are reading an imaginary list of things, which are never good, and you are almost done. The next thing of course is hearing the echo of your own breath. Something which is not good for several reasons. The first is that it means nobody is talking which is awkward, the second is that it means that you have been running for some time now. Possibly in ripped clothes possibly clutching the torn off right hand that once belonged to your sort of strange adopted father for reasons you can’t possibly understand, and third because it means you can be heard, and it means you can’t hear that thing that’s chased you slowly lumbering on the one leg that Charles didn’t manage to shove a rusted nail through before he died horribly. Not hearing it’s terrifying panting breathes as you run as fast as you can down the streets of what used to be Boston would be a good thing except that you have the strangest inkling it hasn’t given up, and an even stranger one that the fact that you can’t hear him means that you don’t know where he is anymore…

Being hung from a chandelier in a ballroom by an extension cord. Wrapped and bound in your own chains, and then stabbed repeatedly until your blood leaves a permanent black circle on the floor is also never a good thing. The silent room being interrupted only by the sounds of the clinking of chains as the breeze wafting through the holes in the walls of the ballroom swings your corpse slowly from side to side. Your hands forever clenched around the metal with such force that it has ripped into your decaying flesh.

If you’re imagining all of that happening to a little girl then you are a sick and monstrous person. What type of world do you think we live in. No that did not happen to the little girl, rather she merely rounded the corner limping because the disgusting monster had finally caught up to her and had ran it’s slimy gray tongue through the ligaments of her foot. The monstrous eyes watching her lustily as she tried in vain to drag herself away. The horrid thing toying with her letting her think she was making some escape. Before she suddenly rounded the corner into the ballroom and saw the horrifying scene before her.

A man floated in the center of the room beneath the chandelier. His body was made of metal and rather than eyes he merely had black shadows that fell from his face. On his head was a golden crown stained with the same blackness that seemed to flow together towards his chest to create a large black cross which spanned his exposed chest.

The girl screamed in agony as the tongue from the beast that had pursued her wrapped around her remaining good leg and pulled it out from beneath her. For the first time she turned to view her assailant. What had once been a man was now stretched and deformed. The eyes bulged from their sockets as though they wanted to touch the prey they hungered for so badly. The eyelids had all but sunken backwards into the flesh of the face, which was being pulled grotesquely as the mouth stretched horizontally and the entire face opened up to reveal endless rows of needle-like teeth. The man’s brown hair was quickly falling out around him. But the most grotesque part of the appearance was the tongue, which now wrapped around the girl’s ankle threatening to pull her into the maw of the beast. It was like some kind of wet snake with the head of a worm. It was jagged at the end but retained the tongue’s natural aversion to stillness as it squirmed around and flexed and relaxed along the length of her leg. As she drew close it dragged her up by her hair and then pressed the gun it held clutched in it’s right hand against her crotch, and it whispered.

“Your mother was a hoar, she tasted like filth and semen, I’m looking forward to feasting on your more well preserved chastity.”

Oh god this is horrible. I don’t want this to happen. Do you want this to happen? If you want this to happen then you’re a horrible person and I don’t care about you. Oh god please wish real hard for this to not happen. Maybe if you wish really hard some fairy or angel will get involved. Oh dear lord come on can we please have some kind of dios ex machina or something! GOD NO! I CAN’T WATCH ANYMORE. Ummm think of something else say something else, ummm, bunny rabbit with angelwings, umm, cookies, umm lady gaga, three plus twelve, Simon says you’re name is fake, auhhhh you’ve tasted heaven angel’s cake, remember the taste, and uhhhhhhh now lay waste, ten slices. AUGHHH ENOUGH STUPID RHYMES IT’S NOT WORKING DO SOMETHING GOD DAMNIT! I DON’T CARE SOMEBODY, ANYBODY JUST DO SOMETHING!

Slowly he drew his nose along her neck and breathed in deeply. Her scent was intoxicating. It smelled like burning flesh. The thing blinked for a moment. She shouldn’t smell like that.

Anybody? Really? Anybody?

He looked down at the girl, and then realized that his ears were also applying input to his mind. He slowly turned away from the girl towards the sound of sizzling flesh.

The swinging monument at the center of the room had begun to sizzle. The wherever the chain touched flesh there was a new blackness as if someone were attempting to brand the dead corpse which hung up there.

The girl and the monster had not agreed on many things today. They had disagreed about whether her mother’s body should be ravaged until it died from loss of blood. They disagreed about whether or not the man who had served as her father should remain with his hands attached to him. In fact they’d disagreed about basically everything except that now they both in this moment agreed that that body should not be doing that.

There was a long deep pause. For several eternities the two parties merely stared at the hangman, which was, like them, wrong on so very many levels. Then slowly and horribly the hangman, the dead one, began to laugh. His laugh was inhumanely low as if it was reverberating deep within his intestines rather than, well wherever that’s supposed to go.           

Again the little girl and the monster agreed on something. This time however the girl made a point to disagree on several other things at the same time because she was beginning to feel as though her and the monster had too many similarities, and she wasn’t particularly fond of that. So while the monster and the girl both felt that him laughing was an inappropriate response the girl chose to find it terrifying while the monster chose instead to find it infuriating.

This went on for approximately five minutes and fifty five seconds, which I only remember because five is my favorite number, before the monstrous thing decided that it had lost it’s appetite and instead decided to silence the hangman, and thereby restore the natural order to life because as the monster knew if one dead person starts laughing then they might all get the idea and he did not want to be laughed at by the girl’s corpse after she was dead.

The thing walked over until it stood beneath the swinging hangman and swung its tongue like a flail to get it up around the neck of the hangman, then the horrifying muscles of the tongue went to work slowly wrapping itself around the hangman’s neck squeezing it tightly. The monster grinned orgasmically as the laughter slowly turned to muffled choking.

If you insist…

Suddenly the eyes of the hangman opened and a horrible grin spread across his face. The monster shuddered and his eyes bulged in fear. The hangman still grinning proceeded to crack his neck to the side with such force that it snapped the wire suspending him there in the air. The hangman then fell to the ground onto the monsters tongue the chains that still wrapped the hangman’s body burned into it until the part around the hangman’s neck flopped to the ground no longer attached to the monster as a whole.

The thing screamed in agony as blood spilled onto the floor. It’s eyes unable to shut rolled back into it’s head out of sheer pain. It looked back down just in time to see the hangman slowly devouring the piece of tongue that had been wrapped around it’s neck. The monster slowly backed away horrified. It held up the gun the barrel pointed at the hangman’s blood drenched mouth.

The hangman looked up and stared at the gun, at least it looked like he was staring at the gun it was impossible to tell when his eyes were merely white pupils. Again it grinned and then stood up in the most horrifying way possible which is to say that it didn’t really stand up but rather it’s bones seemed to rearrange underneath it’s skin cracking and sliding until they reached what semblanced together to be a standing position…

“Why dost thou find me so strange? Tis not the difference of a year or two betwixt you and I that makes me more terrifying, or you more hideous, apart from that small span of time well, we could be brothers.”

The monster shivered at his words and as he spoke them the hangman walked ever closer until finally the Monster stood with his back to a wall his great eyes bulging from his head. His mind was too horrified it lost all idea about the gun. His body twisted and writhed trying to conform to the fear, but resulting only in widening his already bulbous eyes and flattening the flesh of his back so that it seeped a bit into the wall behind him.

“I… WHat Youa you’re there’as something wrong with you!!!! You monster!”

The monster screamed and tried to pull it’s gun but the hangman was on him in an instant his body pressed against the monsters the chains started to burn into the monsters stretched flesh, and the hangman whispered in his ear.

“Don’t worry brother, I’m just here to bring you home, I’m just the boatman just helping you cross the river brother.”

And before the monster could question the hangman, or boatman or whatever thing this was, it had already widened it’s grin and laughing as it did proceed to rip into the throat of the monster and continue until it had devoured the whole thing.

The little girl sat there too horrified to move or look away. She watched as this thing in chains swallowed whole the thing that had been her attacker. It then carefully finished adjusted it’s shape to one more normal, and then slowly and gracefully stood up to it’s full height. He slowly walked over to the girl blood still dripping from his now very human mouth. He stood in front of her for a moment and then sympathetically kneeled down in front of her.

“I’m really sorry you had to see that, but you should know I only did that because I was told I had to. I was told I couldn’t let him touch you, that I must not let him hurt you at all. Oh dear you look terrified. Are you scared of me still?”

He asked in cooing tones in an attempt to reassure the girl that though his behavior moments earlier had been barbaric he was quite civilized with women.

“Yes sir.”

“And why is that young lady. Is it because I ate him I’m terribly sorry but you must understand…”

The little girl shook her head.

“No? Well then why are you so scared of me?”

“My daddy told me that the pretty ones with pretty faces are the worst kind even though they look pretty.”

“Oh did he now… and what was your daddy’s name?”

“Titus… Mr. Titus”

“Well I’ll make sure to bury you’re daddy then because he was a smart man. He taught you well.”

“And mommy, bury mommy too…”

“Yes I’ll make sure to bury her too...”

“Ok…”

“Goodnight little girl.”

And as he spoke his mouth again curled into that inhuman grin. The horrifying grin.

“Goodnight Mr…”

And then in a flash he had…

Oh god I can’t. I can’t do this anymore I can’t watch. Oh God…

Cross was woken up by a beautiful voice somewhere on the edge of the city. He’d be covered in his own blood. The beautiful voice would be feverishly trying to pin a cloth down over the open wound in his neck. She would be trying to give him water, but feverishly he would refuse informing the beautiful voice that he’d had far too much to eat already.

“The little girl was way too much. No, no, water I’m so full!”

Ground Rules

Ok so I figured I'd set up some brief ground rules here. This is supposed to be a simple and fun way to keep in touch over break. Little bit of a roleplay twist yay so that's fun.

1. It's not about winning (making the person you're following ungodly powerful without good storyline reasoning will invariably just step on people's toes.)
2. Say yes. (If someone wants to take the storyline in a direction, do your best to contribute and improve on their idea do your best not to shoot things down as much as humanly possible.)
3. Get creative. (There's always a solution and there's always an explaination, if somebody writes something in that's not what you think would have happened. Make up an explaination.)
4. Keep it fuzzy. (One of the advantages of writing from each characters point of view is the beauty of a fallible narrator. Try to avoid God speak or explaining things too terrible much. This leaves more room to branch out.)

Now for the basic framework we're going off of the post apocalyptic world from the Cross Saga this means a short history is. God is dead. With his death Earth has plummeted into hell or more specifically it is now floating on hell. Yea hell is liquid for some reason...
Anyway this means several things. The first is that Demons have ransacked the place. Their attack along with the other various bad things that happened because God died (God being a non-denominational spiritual creator type being.), means that most of the world's infrastructure is gone. Slowly however most of the original demons have either fled or died for various reasons. Some linger on but not many and not most of the bigger scarier ones.
However a new problem faces us. Without the spiritual connection to Heaven souls don't know where or when to die. So the problem is they keep growing past the point when they would have moved to heaven or hell. This means that souls are becoming twisted and growing out of the human body which is a protector for it. The rest you should probably know or if not, ask questions. Anna and Katie's judgement is basically law because while I created this stuff, they honestly have better documentation than I ever could pretend to.

Furthermore these are not going to be Canonical events. By that I mean it will resemble the Cross stories I write and if it so happens it can be plugged in. However it will not be based on real life events for the most part and does not by any means need to stick to that storyline directly. Think of it sort of like the same rules that apply to fan-fiction.

So this has been wordy and unnecessary. Yay.