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Hell Ascendant part 2 "Ms Rachael, we're here." A voice whispered. Rachael woke with a start, not realizing she'd fallen asleep. She gave the man who had awoken her a nod of thanks before running her hands through her short, ragged brown hair; she used to wear it long in a ponytail, but long hair was one more thing for a demon to grab ahold of, and short was easy to care for and maintain. Looking back, it felt like years since she had last seen poor Alan, the last of her old friends; he had been killed not a week later by a crab-like monstrosity. She had used her new found ability to hurl a pile of rebar at it, penetrating its black carapace and skewering it to a wall. As useful as her ability was, it scared her too; despite her concerns, she had practiced with it to learn its limitations. She wondered what evil thing lurked within her, and why it seemed to be helping her survive rather than fully possess her. She had seen many half demons killed by other survivors just for minor mutations, an
Hell Ascendant part 1After 6 months of horror, death and destruction, not much remained recognizable in the world. Rachael gazed out from atop the tired, crumpled school bus that served as home into the distance at the wreckage of what had once probably been a bustling city, but was currently reduced to a smoldering shell of its former cheerful self. The road atlas declared the town as Arborville, Maryland. Rachael clasped the ragged trench coat she wore tightly to her slender frame, more out of the feeling of security it brought than actually being cold. She glanced down into the bus at the ragged group of 20 survivors that were relying on her for guidance and leadership. These people were damned just like her, but not to the same degree. If they knew the truth, that Rachael was a half blood, half possessed and getting worse, they would most certainly try to kill her, regardless of all she had done for them. For being a vessel for a demon, even if not completely and most certainly unwillingly, was a most
Hosting the MythologicalSplat!Coughing up a mouthful of slimy mud, Silas slowly pulled himself to his feet and tried vainly to wipe away the mud that now coated his only decent pair of cloths. Everything about the scenario seemed to emulate the epics he’d learned from the Bard’s Guild; a handsome young man thrown out into the rain by the overbearing father of his love interest. “-an’ if I ever catch you with my daughter again, I’ll rip your head from your scrawny neck an’ feed it to the dogs!” came the roar from the open door, followed by his rucksack sailing into the mucky street. It wasn't the first time he’d heard something like that, and it probably wouldn't be the last. There was something about him that instantly earned parental disdain, and Silas would have paid good money to find out what the issue was and have it removed. Granted, he didn't have much in the way of money to pay for such services. Shame too, for Alessia