[center][img]http://i61.tinypic.com/1hqfcl.png[/img][/center] [i]I am. I am a throbbing heart. Pulsing, black, undulating, shoving blood through fetid silver veins. Pry me open like a coinpurse. Spread my ribs with a vise, remove my heart. It's cold, wet, and beautiful. Everything you wanted a heart to be. Your lips tremble. They fall apart. A single tear rolls down your lidless eyes. Take a bite with your gaping mouth, then another, and another until the beautiful, perfect heart is inside you. In the torn center of the pulp, you will see your own, perfect face. This is me. I AM.[/i] ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Violent red pulses spread their digitized red lines through ragged rock. Pulling, tugging, guiding all the sins towards the hellish epicenter. A swirling vortex was far above in a red sky of not-stars, stalactites formed around the circumference. A single beam reached up towards it from the ground. This light was not before. Now that it was, every entity within this hellscape was inexplicably drawn towards the effulgent glow, knowing instinctively where it would lead. It would lead to Man. Hooded devils, demons who's origins stretch back to the beginning of time, encircled the base of the pentagram from which that horrid light rose. Others would approach them, those skin of ash, flame, shadow. They asked by what right they had to reach Man, to commit whatever atrocities they were want to commit. The largest devils answered by right of conquest. Most by right of blood. One smaller one, more freshly spawned than the others, handed over a skin bound book. “By right of the unknowable.” The hooded one she had approached turned in short rotations until his many eyed visage sat upon her and that horrible, horrible book. One of several maws opened and shuttered closed, in a tongue long thought dead , “Mmm. The Book of Eibon. How did you come upon this?” “Eibon arrived here, once. Bargained the wretched tome for his freedom. It's a good read.” It chuckled a hoarse, crackling laugh. “This is acceptable. Though you are young to be crossing the threshold from us...” the elderly demon lowered a blackened, shadowed claw, drawn slowly towards the sky with no less than three boney cracks at each increment. “To sin.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Through the window glass darkly a terrible red light pulsed. The warehouse windows, not far at all from the Museum of Supers, began to murk over with ash and soot. A low, groaning hum shook the many crates and lifting equipment until finally a beam of the same blood light burst through, tearing a sizable hole in the roof and reaching far off into the Lost Haven sky towards the moon. A swirling circle of pentagrams and the gnarling characters of dead tongues acted as the base. Soon after, it sunk into the concrete floor as if it were a rug sinking into the earth, forming a red whirlpool of infernal fire. It stands to reason nothing good ever came out of holes in the space time continuum like these. In fact, that's a sane assumption and you would best keep thinking that way. Flying humanoid things with bat wings flew out holding pitchforks, skeletal dogs covered in flame shot through the doorways, a snake the size of an eighteen wheeler slithered out and smashed it's way into the streets. The warehouse was on fire in almost no time at all. Succubi and incubi alike found their way to Lost Haven and began causing what could only be described as panic followed by a subsequent rise in the belief of biblical tales. Then, like any demonic invasion, the infighting began. Blood feuds spanning millennia reared their ugly heads. Sword came upon sword came upon trident came upon claw came upon barbed tail came upon spells so inherently evil it would give pause to even the most depraved supervillain. Even as the warehouse fell apart, they fought. Then Al'qruni-tun'kil, she who rots blood, Styx, rose from the hell flames into flames that were far more earthly. Blood spattered the floor, the walls, and by some bizarre turn of events had even reached the ceiling. It was hard to tell from the haze of heat and fury who was killing whom. Outside the screams of the living could be heard, the barking of dogs (though the barking had started long before the portal had finalized). She looked around, trying to find an exit. While fire and smoke would barely harm her, the ceiling collapsing would certainly make her stay in this realm shorter than she wanted. Seeing the door the snake had turned into a gaping hole in the wall, she barreled out into the starry night of Lost Haven. Where the sound of sirens blared, mankind shouting to the void of space that something was going horribly wrong. Styx of course had no idea what those sounds meant or what purpose many of these buildings served. It was safe to assume those noises were a warning of sorts, possibly for other humans. A hoof footed demon, about seven feet tall, stomped out from the near collapsing warehouse, holding four swords in each of its four hands. It looked down at the shorter, younger demon, a little over five feet tall, and recognized her status as from the second ring of hell. It's bull nose huffed flames as it proclaimed. “I AM SORGATH. YOU DIE, WELP.” Styx flinched as the hooven monstrosity leaped forward, pulling back its four arms and swinging them around in one clean circular motion. No satisfying crack or gush sounded and Sorgath felt a mixture of disappointment and rage as Styx ran barefoot straight into the streets of Lost Haven. It roared, sprinting after. Styx ran into flashing red and blue lights, turning to see a blinding white floodlight and several extremely panicked police who immediately opened fire. She melted down to the earth, becoming one with the shadows, and reappeared at an opposing alleyway and skittered up the wall. Sorgath crossed the same street and spun its blades, deflecting several incoming shots before finally breathing a large volume of fire into the line of armored cars. The smell of fire and burnt flesh rose. Sorgath dug each iron clad hoof into the ground, crushing a skull, and leaped onto the roof Styx had frantically climbed onto. Styx spun around, loosely throwing two blasts of hellfire like baseballs at Sorgaths face. It stumbled back. Styx used that time to run, jumping from the six story building into the in-between of the first and second floor of the building across the street. Bodies were carelessly strewn on the stairway, the ashen remains of slain demons littered the next floor up. This was not going like Styx had hoped. [i]For one[/i], she thought as she frantically ran up the stairs. A crashing impact was heard not far behind her. [i]For one,the portal opened to what humans loosely call “civilization”. I should have expected.[/i] She pushed open a doorway, number 7A, a body on the other side resisted her attempts. Turning, she saw Sorgath across the hall, just as furious as ever. He began to charge. Throwing all of her light weight into the door, Styx stumbled and rolled in. Not far off, she could see a room with a vanity mirror. Sprinting towards it, Styx was followed close behind by Sorgath who threw his blade at the welplings back. She fell into the mirror, and the sword shattered glass. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [center][b]News Broadcasts[/b][/center] “After over two hundred casualties in the surrounding districts of Sherman Square, the violence has finally slowed down.” “Metaman, what exactly are these invaders?” “I have no idea, demons maybe? Aliens?” “It had...my face. It stole my face!” “Call 1-800-666-2345! Operators are on the line. Will you protect your family from planar invasions?” “The Apocalypse has begun, we must all repent! The devil has embedded his talons in mans soul, his being! Rapture follows soon and only the chosen shall bask in the light of God!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Three young girls stood in front of a mirror, giggling and dimming the lights. “Ok, ok. Who's going first?” One girl, tallow hair and bones, shook her head frantically. Her taller friend, dark haired and raven eyed, laughed. “Don't be a wuss! Come on!” The third pudgy girl nodded and parroted what the raven eyed girl said. The lanky girl quivered in her dog paw pajamas, closed her eyes. “Bloody mary...Bloody mary...Bloody....” When she had the courage to open her eyes, in the mirror was a grey skinned, yellow eyed horned girl not much older than they. It widened its eyes, which flashed red and leaked blood, the lights in the room fizzled out, and each girl screamed a scream they would never scream louder. Styx jumped from the mirror, following after the girls into the hall. A mother, the lanky girls, walked out. “Is everything alrig- oh.” Styx stared daggers through her for a moment, then burst through the back door. Looking about, a common citizen would have recognized the French Quarter, named after a minority of buildings based loosely on Château's and one recognizable Cathedral. She recognized nothing but the Cathedral, who's bell tower would at least give her time to think if nothing else. Finding her way past the disorienting neon signs and flashing stoplights, Styx eventually arrived at the base of the Cathedral. She leaped onto the cobbled wall and climbed, flipping her way onto the backs of Gargoyles and swinging jutting sculptures until finally reaching the bells. Wiping sweat from her brow, she looked out towards the glowing orange and smoke rising far out in the distance. It seemed like the others were enjoying themselves.