[center] [img]  https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a9/Salem_Hospital_Oregon_night.JPG     [/img] [/center] 

“You can’t rely solely on others, Persephone.” Doctor Alves said calmly, sitting across from the young girl in his broad black chair. 

“I know,” Persephone sighed, playing nervously with a lock of strawberry blonde hair “but I just feel like I shouldn’t have to be completely self-sufficient, you know?” 

“We’ve been over this,” the doctor spoke in a firm voice, but one which lacked even the slightest hint of irritation “Your parents are in a difficult position right now, and from the way you make it sound they weren’t particularly reliable beforehand.” 

“I just don’t understand why!” She tensed up all of a sudden, feeling her pulse quicken. 

“I think you know why, Persephone.” 

“The dust...right.” The young girl said quietly. 

“I know you’re reluctant to tell anyone, and doctor patient privilege has my hands bound, but I would strongly advise you to mention it to a teacher at school, or even the police if you feel up to it.” 

Persephone snorted loudly.  

“Yeah, right. Like Santa Somabra cops give a shit about a couple of deadbeats with a drug problem.” 

“I think you’d be surprised,” Alves gave a little shrug “I’d struggle to believe that every single cop is crooked. And if we live in a world where Nyxvira Bloodbloom can be called in for questioning, who knows what might happen.” 

“I guess.” Persephone replied, clearly unconvinced. 

“Come on,” The Doctor said, rising up out of his chair “I’ll write you your prescription.” 

The two made their way out of the small room and down the corridor which led to reception. It was a fairly spacious expanse, with clean white walls and the sort of comfy chairs you only got in the nicer hospitals. 

“I’ll just be a second,” Alves said with a reassuring smile, as he slipped behind the desk and into the back room. 

It was then that the screaming started. 

A shrill shriek came screeching from way down in the streets below. Soon, the patients in the waiting room were on their feet, all crowded around the window as they fought to see what was happening.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Someone yelped. 

“This fucking city man…” said a man in disbelief. 

Persephone rushed over to join the rabble, slipping through to the front so that she could see what everyone was looking at. 

The sight which greeted the young woman filled her heart with dread. 





[hr]

The Lich Lord Henning Maddrish sat calmly in the blacked out apartment, the cool breeze of an open window dancing softly off of his back, and making the curtains blow gently into the room. 

In his time he had been a Grand Duke, an assassin, a necromancer, and -most recently- a crime boss. Now, the pale figure combined all those roles, as he waited to carry out a mission which would set him on the final stages of his journey to become a god. 

The door opened with a dull creek, whilst a hand extended into the darkness and flicked a switch. The apartment lit up in a sudden flash, revealing the Lich Lord in all his calculated majesty. 

“I was hoping you’d given up.” An old man said with sadness in his voice, as he gazed across at Henning from his spot in the doorway. 

“Don’t comfort yourself with such preposterous delusions,” Henning grinned “I’d never stop hunting you.” 

“By all the gods and demons!” The old man barked “Don’t you understand? I’m trying to protect you!” 

“Like you secret order was supposed to protect this city?” The Lich sneered “The Obstacle failed, and so have you. You and all your high-born kin were just as weak and susceptible to corruption as the rest of this motherfucking shit hole city.” 

The old man was silent for a moment, before he spoke at last.

“You know I won’t part with the key. You know I [i]can’t[/i].” 

Henning rose from his resting place and bolted across the room, grabbing hold of the old man by the scruff of his collar, and forcing his head out of the open window. 

“Look!” He hissed, gripping the old man tightly. “Look at what your cowardice has led to.” 

All across Santa Somabra, the city burned. 

The Brotherhood of Rot had come crawling out of their sewers, and they had brought their dark plagues with them. Nowhere was safe from the army of the dead, as they bled out into the streets and left only destruction in their putrid wake. 

This went beyond a riot. This was a full-blown invasion. 

“You’re mad..” The old man spluttered. 

“I prefer the term [i]psychologically liberal[/i].” Henning said with a smirk. 

 “Alright,” The old man let his shoulders slump in defeat, as he reached into his pocket and fished out a dull bronze key “I’m done running.” 

Henning took the key, feeling it's cold metal touch. 

“Thank you.” Henning said. 

Then he threw the old man out of the window.