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The Rapture has occured, the Tribulation has begun...the Apocalypse is upon us... CLOSED. |
| [Introduction] No Reprieve What would happen if the Rapture occurred tomorrow? When exactly would the Tribulation begin? Who is the Arch-Angel, Anti-Christ? Would Satan take control, or would God crush all those who were left behind? After the Rapture, the Tribulation period begins, bringing about seven years of chaos, disorder, and death. The Anti-Christ and the Arch-Angel now roam the land, occasionally clashing with each other in brutal encounters of brute force. A small group of teenagers has come together to try solving the mystery of who the Anti-Christ and Arch-Angel really are. What they find is heart-wrenching, earth-shattering, even breathtaking. But the decisions shall be left solely to you, the writers. The story is set in the small town of Chissenger Falls, once the glory of the surrounding area, now all but a pile of rubble. The characters have all known each other for over a year but there may be some animosity between a couple of them. Since there are five people, things never even out, leaving someone to break the tie, which could cause some trouble. The group first meets up at an old abandoned convenience store, each surprised that the others survived the events that had recently occurred. The building had evidently been burned in one of the many fires that had been set during all the disorder that went on and was still going on. But instead of being obtrusive the smoky smell had been comforting. The fate of humanity lay in their hands, even as they sat in that store, pondering what to do next… The Characters: Braedon Adarith --  Andree Zenthee -- Locksley Terry Monarch -- **Jo tired & pretty stressed** Chris Limkee -- johnclemens Eli Tirzah -- JoeStrong The Rules --Email me you character BioBlock, that way I can post it here in the intro. --Don’t join if you don’t plan to contribute --Keep it according to rating --If you add, make it interesting, make it help the story along…nothing useless. --NO INTERNET LINGO!!! No “u” for you, capitalize, punctuate, use commas! Make this grammatically correct!!! --Avoid tense change please…this will be past tense, so no sees, or runs, or jets… BIOBLOCKS BioBlocks should be made with using this outline: Name: (use one of the ones above!) Age: (make this around 17-19. Thanks much!) Gender: (Braedon is a boy, Andree is a girl, the others can be either) Description: (please be creative with this!) Personality: (again, be creative, but remember all people have their flaws) Weakness: (you HAVE to have a weakness, it’s required…at least one, thanks) Weapons: (no smg’s, no grenades, come on, be reasonable here.) Powers: (during the Rapture, these five were all given some kind of odd power for one reason or another, be creative but make them useful) Other: (any other tidbit of information you want known goes here!) If you want to copy and paste this instead of writing it out, here you go: Name: Age: Gender: Description: Personality: Weakness: Weapons: Powers: Other: -NOTE- Please remember to put a line of space between your paragraphs and that some kind of division symbol would be helpful, such as: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ or ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* It’s your choice what you use, but you must use something. Hey, one more thing guys…I think I want to get this color coordinated, so here you go, please type in the color that your char. name is! Braedon Andree Terry Chris Eli Character BioBlocks Name: Braedon Adarith Age: 18 Gender: Male Description: Braedon is average height, but is jam-packed with muscle. He averages out to about six foot one, and weighs near 150lbs. He has dark hair and often wears a bandana to keep his locks out of his face. His hair is considerably long, but somehow he always manages to get it into great spikes, sometimes letting it hang loose. Breadon has brilliant hazel eyes that shine phenomenally in bright light. He is a huge fan of black, and usually wears pants instead of shorts. His shirts are most likely blank or have some kind of emblem on them. He loves his spiked wristbands and his odd dragon necklace. Most would call him emo or goth at first glance but there's something deeper to his darkness. History: As a child Braedon was badly beaten and tortured by his father, and at the age of fourteen he finally realized that he could stand up for himself. After an intense fistfight with his dad, Braedon ran away from home and started living on the streets. After three years Braedon succeeded in hunting down his mother who had seemingly disappeared years earlier. After all the trauma in his life, when things were finally starting to get better, the Rapture took place in the dead of night and stole his mother away from him as the morphine and heroin had done years ago. During the night of the Rapture, Braedon had been called up, but for some reason he could not enter the holy lands of Heaven, and soon the chance had come and passed. During this odd little visit, he acquired strange markings on his face, much like tattoos, and just as permanent. These markings seem to be the source of his strange powers... Personality: Braedon is a strong and considerate person who would rather die for his friends than kill his enemies. In fact, until the Tribulation began, he had no enemies. He is kindhearted but refuses to hold back his emotions and thoughts and feelings. He appreciates the trivial things and questions the more important larger things. He's a very greatful person and finds it very peculiar that he did not gain enterance into Heaven for he was a true-hearted Christian by blood and by passion. Weakness: Braedon is very quick to anger and takes a while to calm, but if he has a close friend around they help him cope. Unfortunately for all who choose to cross him, his two closest friends were called up and he did not get a chance to say goodbye. Adding to that regret there is a great dose of guilt because the night before the Rapture they had gotten in a very serious, very stupid arguement which ended in Braedon pushing both of them and speeding away in his car. Weapons: In a war some centuries ago his great grandfather had found a very nice set of dual daggers. Crafted with the purest metal they gleam and glint in even the dullest of light. One of the pair is double-bladed and the other is a hunting knife of sorts. Both balance out perfectly and weigh only ounces. Their sheaths are sturdy leather with intricate designs etched into their surface. Powers: Braedon has become a good amount more powerful than he previously was, and he has acquired the ability to spot evil on sight, which is handy now that a number of demons are roaming the towns and cities and countrysides in human form. His senses have developed into a cat-like precision and he is able to climb things much easier then he had ever dreamed. Also, because of his muscle and catlike abilities, he can "fly" for short distances. Other: Braedon is a dark, brooding boy who enjoys suicidal poems and scary movies, and keeps a great love of Poe stashed away..."Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, and each seperate dying ember, wrought its ghost upon the floor...Eagerly I wished the morrow, vainly I had sought to borrow, from my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore, for the fair and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore, nameless here, for evermore..." Name: Andree Zenthee Age: 17 Gender: girl Description: Andree is short for a girl, around 5'3", and she is very fit for her age, sometimes seen as a bit too skinny. She weighs 110 lbs. She has very dark brown, relaxed hair, and doe eyes that if you look close enough, may seem a vibrant purple. She likes to keep her hair in a low ponytail to show her aggressive side. She has a boho, grundgy style when it comes to clothes. She wears several bangly bracelets on her wrists, and likes to wear baggy pants. She has several earrings around her ears, and wears a leather necklace she recieved a while ago from a long dead uncle. History: Andree was seen as a cheerful, chubby girl before she started to become concerned about her body. Ever since, Andree had a feeling that she was never good enough. She would always be second prettiest, second smartest, but never the best. She felt like she was getting a feeling that her parents saw the same thing in her, her sister was always seen as top notch, while she was the underdog. As she grew older, she had several shortlasting friends, who suddenly got up and left her in her situation. After that, she lost trust in all her friends, and is very wary to people she believes know her too well. She was seen as a loner around high school, until the Rapture took all that away. She saw her sister go up to where people say "heaven" is. Andree doesnt believe in any god or religion after she feels that God gave up on her. She sees herself as the dregs of society since she stayed behind on earth while mostly everyone else was taken above or below. Personality: Andree has a fierce personality. She is always very passionate over sometihng, and doesnt see much in friends unless they prove themselves to her. She can be seen as very sarcastic, and sometimes even cruel by her language. She looks beyond the words of what someone says, and her eyes always catch the details. Weakness: Whenever she feels someone wants so hard to be her friend, she gets scared and tries to isolate herself. She hates being lonely though, and seeks perfection in friends. She regrets many of the decisions she makes, and is overall doubtful over her future and who she is. Weapons: Andree loves her roughly made bow and feathery arrows she stole from the town's museum. She has much skill in distant combat, but when she comes in close combat, she was trained for 5 years in taekwondo. Powers: She has sharp eyes, and is very fast. She can swim for long distances, and can make herself so hidden that she could almost be seen as invisible. Others: Andree loves hard rock, and has a beautiful voice when she ever dares to sing. Before the Rapture, she dreamed of getting away and becoming a singer, but now she fights for survival. She loves hearing of revenge and second chances. Name: Terrian “Terry” Monarch Age: 18 Gender: Female Description: Terry appears tall standing at about 5’ 8” most of which is attributed by her long legs. She is slender and fit at about 125 lbs. Her almost unnaturally black hair extends to just below her shoulders and a bit of angled bangs is almost always falling in front of her vibrant green eyes. Terry’s sense of style centers around one thing in particular: what she’s not supposed to wear. She adapts it to every situation, always wearing what is uncalled for, no matter the occasion. History: Terry belonged to a very religious family and even accepted Christ herself as a young girl. But at the age of 13, she became exceedingly rebellious refusing to follow her parent’s wishes for her life. Everything she did became about doing what they wouldn’t approve of. Her friends, her clothes, her attitude, her activities, even her name (her mother insists on calling her Terrian and hates her calling herself Terry). The moment before the Rapture, she had locked herself in her room and turned up her “devil” music, as her mother called it, up extremely loud after one of their usual fights. Her mother had been cooking dinner, while her younger brother and father watched TV in the living room. Terry didn’t even notice the Rapture, but was suddenly startled by the heat that began to fill her room. The fire from the stove had sent the entire house on fire. Terry managed to escape with a few of her belongings, with only a few bad burns on the inside of her arms with she always covers up with her fingerless black gloves. At first, Terry assumed her family had been killed in the fire that completely destroyed her home; she then realized what had really happened after discovering the unordinary destruction throughout the town and speaking to the few frightened residents left behind who would talk to her. Personality: Terry is extremely outspoken, saying what is on her mind without worrying about the consequences. She never trusted easily, but when she does she will do anything for a friend. Although now, after the Rapture, it takes even more to gain her trust then before. She has now become very bitter and intense. Weakness: She has a few, as everyone does. One of which is authority and another is her younger brother. He was the only one of her family that understood and, at least to her, seemed to care. She doesn’t speak of him even as he crowds her mind, and is pained with very memory and thought. Weapons: She picked up a crude knife after the Rapture. She almost has a hidden knife which she carries with her always. It was given to her by her brother and is beautifully made with wonderful silver engravings. She also is a pretty good shot with just about any gun she can get her hands on. Powers: She has gained a keen sense of hearing and can hear just about anything even a whisper almost mile away. She also, with great concentration and a little more practice, can separate her mind from body during which she can float high seeing herself and miles around without leaving her position. She has also become tremendously alert to her surroundings. Other: Just after the Rapture, she joined up with her former friends who were also left behind not surprisingly. Although after realizing her friends aren’t worth anything and really don’t care about her at all, she has taken to wandering the streets alone. Name: Chris Limkee Age: 18 Gender: Male Description: Chris is six foot even, and is of average build. His broad shoulders give the apperance of a greater amount of muscle than he really has. He has blue eyes and red hair, crew cut style. He has size twelve feet and trips over them regularly. You usually see him sporting an Air Force Falcons cap, pulled low over his eyes. Personality: His father was an ex-marine so a lot of his personalities resemble that of a marine. Strict and punctual. On occasion he does enjoy some verbal jousting, but otherwise acts like any normal 18 year old man. He is not very good with the ladies, but makes friends like nobodies business. Weakness: Girls. As soon as one appears, his tongue turns to jelly and he has lots of trouble speaking. Weapons: While on a mission trip to Japan, he picked up an authentic samurai katana. Ever since this purchase, he has preacticed day in and day out, and can now slice through alomst any nonmetal object. Powers: Through his extensive training in the ninja ways, he is able to disappear into the shadows, making himself hidden to the untrained eye. He also learned how to move silently, without ever being detected. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop is a skill that ust came naturally to him. Other: A down to heart Catholic, who can occasionally take a few religious jokes. Unlike most kids his age, he is not afraid to stand up to those who wish to do harm to others. A true hero. Name: Eli Tirzah Age: 18 Gender: Male Description: Eli is physically unimpressive, standing about five feet six inches, with short, curly black hair and glasses. Personality: Prior to the Rapture, Eli was a very different kind of person—quiet, brilliant, artistic and lonely. He was a little nerdy, and did not have many friends, although the few he did have found him to be very friendly and kind. When the Rapture occurred, he and his entire family were left below, a horribly traumatic experience. Although he at first thought he had been unfairly passed over simply because he was Jewish, he was later plagued by a nagging thought that the real reason for being left below was that he was not a good enough person. This revelation left him overwhelmed with self-doubt and self-loathing, and, after witnessing the death of his little brother and grandfather and the disappearance, he resolved to fight until his last breath against the injustice and evil still in the world. Hence, he left New York with several of his schoolmates and struck out on the road, eventually heading to Chissenger Falls. Weakness: Eli has two major weaknesses, one of which is physical and the other mental. Physically, without his glasses he is almost blind, and it’s not that difficult for them to fall off. Mentally, his greatest weakness is the piercing insecurity that he is simply not a good human being. Because of this, Eli has a burning desire to do as much good as he can, often acting impulsively and with no thought for himself. He also frequently becomes depressed about what he perceives as unfairness in the universe, blaming not humanity or himself, but God for causing the misery of the Rapture by not forgiving everybody. Weapons: In New York City, the Rapture was murderously devastating, and Eli and his few friends barely managed to escape with their lives, much less find any weapons. Since then, many of the weapons Eli picks up, he has a tendency to throw away and leave behind when they become too much of a burden. The only weapons he ever holds onto are a thick iron pipe, about two feet long, with a large clublike end, and a policeman’s gun. Powers: Currently, Eli has none. However, that is not to say he may eventually develop some. Other: Despite being intelligent and personable, Eli’s subtle neuroses have always impeded his social life. Hence, though he means well, he often fails to interact effectively with people he has just met, and first impressions of him are rarely flattering. |
Braedon carefully picked his way through the rubble and debris that had been left in the wake of the night's happenings. It had been a mere week since the legendary Rapture had occured and already the world was slowly collapsing around him. There had been a swift increase in crime and there were fires everywhere burning unchecked. During the supernatural occurance, Braedon had been called up to see the light of God and was touched by the hand of Gabriel, leaving several odd markings on his face like that of tattoos, but much more elegant and ornate than any tattoo artist could ever dream of crafting. Reaching the door he had been striving to pass through, he slowly turned the handle with gloved hand. A cool breeze swept around him abruptly, but was gone just as quick. Using the back of his free hand he swept his hair off his sweat-drenched face, relieving a bit of the heat that had taken a liking to following him. Braedon set his full weight against the door and slowly it's ancient surface budged enough for him to gain enterance. At last he had made it back to the old mausoleum where he and his friends had liked to hang out. Usually they would just play poker or some other infantile game, but occasionally one of them would score something illegal and they would all get wasted or stoned. Braedon found his way to the statue where he had last hidden his stash of pot and retrieved it hurridly. Finding a dark comfortable corner, he rolled a joint with experienced ease and rummaged around in his pocket for his zippo. The first toke relaxed him as it always had before and slowly he felt the well-known high take over, easing his mind into the slow, comfortable pace that he had been craving all day. But this smoke-session wouldnt last long because the next thing Braedon knew, the door to the mausoleum burst open revealing a sillouetted figure... |
| Andree bolted toward the collapsing food mart, hoping there was a bit of food still there after all the chaos. Chissenger Falls had turned into a mad town, men and women were killed over fear and terror. Several fires and burned down the significant buildings in town, and most of the stores had been ransacked, now only empty shelves could be seen from the broken windows. Andree had hardened over those mere seven days before the destruction. She found a hidden place for herself in a near-empty store room, and trained herself to eat small rations of the food she found. She knew it would all be gone in a matter of days. Andree always carried her bow and arrows with her, she still couldn't believe she had to protect herself against people she once saw as neighbors. She found the bow in the old town museum, and the arrows she made herself from the woods near the town. As she rummaged through the awful mess of plaster and brick, she found a smashed bag of bread. She smiled coldly as she picked it up and hid in her jacket. No one could share this with her, she had to look after herself now, and only herself. She was one of the "Unchosen," neither up there in heaven, nor down in the deep furnace of Hell. Her sister was taken up, she had seen it herself. Her parents had dissappeared also, and now it was only Andree. She carefully looked over her shoulder to make sure no one had seen her with the bread. Starvation was a rare sight in Chissenger Falls before the Rapture, but now, people were brutally killed over bread rolls and cans of Spam. As she went swiftly through the turmoil, she heard footsteps. No, she thought, not now! She was well-hidden, well-forgotten, but someone was following her. She whirled around and took out her bow, if they wanted to kill her, she wanted the chance to fight for her life. Her sharp eyes took in the scene. No one was there. Still, Andree didn't want to take her chances. She fled into the woods, hoping this someone would break their neck or die quickly before they ever got their hands on her. |
| It was cold. Too cold. Living in the abandoned clocktower seemed to be the only stupid thing Chris had done in quite a long time. Ever since the Rapture, Chris had been left alone to fend for himself. It was not an easy life, but he really had no choice. His instincts had told him that the clocktower would be the safest place to hide from those who wished to harm him. It was the only tall building left standing in Chissenger Falls. One of the only buildings in fact, accept for the library and a few small supermarkets. It seemed like the most logical place to set up camp. Now bothered by the cold, Chris decided that he would be a lot warmer on the move. His extensive training had not prepared him for the cold nights with no heater. He decided to check on the surrounding community for anything suspicious. After the Rapture, Chris had involuntarily become the superman of the city. Protecting those who could not protect themselves. It was almost a full time job. No one was expecting someone to be watching them from the roof tops. Chris found that he could get around the city a lot faster and safer if he used the remaining rooftops. No traffic, and little debris to slow him down. A short while after setting out Chris entered into the "downtown" area. If you could even call it that. His eyes scanned the area, searching for any signs of trouble. It was then that he noticed a shady figure entering the library. Not a usual hangout in these times. He decided to go and check it out. As he reached the front door he could hear the mysterious visitor rummaging around inside. Then there was silence. He figured now was as good a time as any. He pulled his sword to his side and burst through the door. |
| Andree ran throught the silent forest, already wishing she had just took on whoever was after her, surely they wouldn't be as terrifying as the forest was. The sounds and noises sounded eerie and unnatural, and the crunching of leaves beneath almost seemed demonic. She was always afraid of the forest at night, who knows what could be lurking around? Suddenly, she tripped over a thick tree root that almost looked like it was there on purpose. She tried not to wail in pain as she felt her foot twist into an unnatural angle. This was no time to be injured, she thought, panicking in her mind. There was no one who would come and save her this time. As she looked over the damage, she noticed her ankle had popped out of socket. "Damn it," she muttered. She wasn't too far from town, she could make it back if she found some sort of crutch. She grabbed a stick and tried to support a bit of her weight on it, it broke. As she crawled around in search for another stick, she felt her feet hit some object. It was a book, a badly made book to be sure, and being outside to face all weather didn't do it much good either, but it looked beautiful with it's leather cover. Andree took it and tossed it into her pack, might as well do something during these dark days. She finally found a suitable walking stick, and slowly made her way back toward town. As she reached the famillar store house, she smiled. She was in bad condition, that was true, but she had food, water, shelter, and even a bit of entertainment to keep her busy while she healed. Her ankle seemed to burn with pain as if it was agreeing with her. Andree made a quick look around the lonely, suspicious street, then hurried into the storage, carefully locking the door after her. |
| It was cold in the library. Most of the walls had cracks and holes in them caused by the earthquakes. As the steam from his breath curled around his face he noticed a figure slowly climbing the stairs to the second floor. On any other day this would have almost seemed normal. But after the Rapture, nothing was normal anymore. Chris lept up to the second floor (much easier than leaping across rooftops). As he slowly moved closer to the mysterious visitor, he realized that he was chanting. What he was chanting Chris couldn't be to sure about. It sound like a mix of Latin and ancient Hebrew. The sun poked through the cracks of the library and revealed the identity of the chanter. It was the caretaker at the cathedral in uptown. What was he doing in the library? And why was he chanting? Then a grey mist began to appear on the floor surrounding the old man. Before Chris knew what was happening, the mist had completely engulfed the caretaker. Then just as suddenly as it had appeared, the mist dissapated. Taking the kindly caretaker with it. Chris was in shock. How could he just disappear like that? It defied all scientific logic. He needed to clear his head, and maybe get some food in the process. The convenience store down the street was still standing. Maybe he could find some form of food there. |
| Braedon quickly took the joint in his hand and darted behind a statue of some unknown Saint, hiding from the shadowy figure who had so suddenly appeared from the threshold of the mausoleum. Watching the figure carefully make its way up the ornate stone floor, Braedon breathed in sharply, holding back a cough from the pot-smoke, and failing miserably. "Who's there!?" Spoke the figure in surprise, as he stepped closer and into the light, where it became visible just who he was. Pastor William Brandt. "Erm, Pastor Brandt...I just needed a place to come where i could think...get away from everyone...you know." Braedon explained as he stepped forward, revealing himself and concealing his bag of weed. "Well, since you're here, young Braedon, you might as well help me clean this place up a bit. Even with all that's happened, services must continue for those who wish to accept Christ into their livs after seeing the destruction that has been wrought up on us all." Brandt spoke solemnly, weighing down each syllable with some unseen regret. 'Wait...this is William Brandt. PASTOR William Brandt...why is he still here? Why not in Heaven where he very well should be?' Braedon had a million questions running through his head at lightening speed, but he chose to keep them unspoken. Following Pastor Brandt into his office, Braedon shut the door behind him and made sure that his joint was safely in his pocket for later... |
| Andree leaned back on her badly made bed. It was made of the a couple of blankets she stole from abandoned homes, and several pillows she found abandoned at a mattress store. Her ankle wasn't any better, but she was sure that in a matter of a couple days, she would be up and ready to walk. As she sat back she wondered what she had planned to do while handicapped. She went through her bag, wondering if she had found anything to play with while she still remained on Earth. She probably would be here for a long time, and everyone needs entertainment at some point in their lives. She found some socks, a pretty bracelet that had a stratched gem, a couple of dolls, god, she didn't have much of a childhood. The idea of these man-made minatures of human beings comforted her, it reminded her of her long gone sister. She, just like the rest of those "holy people" ascended into the forever paradise that Andree could only dream of. A tear fell down from her mechanical, unemotional face and she stared as it left a soggy trail down her cheek and onto her pillow. Amazing that she could still cry after all this time, after she was found unwanted. Suddenly, she remembered that book she had found in the forest. She pulled it out excitedly and turned the crumbling pages as her fingers scrambled for the first pages. THE DAYS OF DELIGHT AND CHAOS was the strange title to the equally odd book. Andree had the strange feeling that this wasn't coincidence, that the book was somehow placed there and "wanted" to be read. She shivered as she turned to the next page. |
| It was hard to focus on what had just happened. The image of the man disappearing in the smoke still stood out in Chris' mind. There was no way that you could just disappear. No way. As he walked down the remains of Oak Street, his mind began to wander back to the days when he was young. In his youth, Chris had been like most other children. Playing tag, running races, digging holes to China; it was all about having fun. Then his dad passed away. As an Ex-Marine he left a very big impression on Chris as a young male. Chris found himself to wake earlier each morning. His room was spotless every day. With his dad gone, Chris had to care for his mother and three little sisters. His mom had been confined to bed four years prior to his father's death. This didn't make things any easier. It did however make Chris more responsible. No more playing games. He had responsibilities now. And although he could barely pronounce the word "responsibilities", he now was the main bread winner of his family.Needless to say, Chris had a very brief childhood. As he reached the end of the street, something made him stop. He looked around and saw nothing. "Probably just a cat," thought Chris. But somthing told him that he was being watched. What was that?! There was a light coming from the clocktower. Chris had no source of light up in the clocktower. At least non that he had remembered. Looks like he had an uninvited guest. "Well", thought Chris, "I know how to deal with unwanted guests." With that he lept into a run heading straight for the clocktower. |
| A bit later in Pastor Brandt's office, Braedon found himself slouching casually into a comfortable recliner in the corner. It seemed that when Brandt had said "clean up the place", he had really meant, "just hang around and give me some company while I go about doing my normal pastorly duties". Sure, it didnt make any sense why Brandt was trying to kid himself thinking that the lot that had been left behind would even begin to think about going to a church for anything other than shelter, but as long as Braedon had a comfortable place to sloth about, it seemed fine to him. After a while, though, Braedon's curiousity got the best of him. "Pastor, who exactly do you think will be coming to services? I mean, all the Christians are in Heaven, so why even bother?" Braedon's questions had obviously been anticipated, even waited for, because Brandt's answers were both automatic and well thought out. "Braedon, I know full well that all the Christians are in Heaven, I am a Pastor, remember? But now that the world has been shown the truth of the matter, I think that many people will give up their illconcieved notions about God and head for the path of light. And I will be here waiting for those who come to seek the help of God." Brandt's solemn tone was still unnervingly calm. "Well...I guess I could help out with whatever needs to be done, I mean, not like there's much else to do now..." Braedon surprised both himself and William at this, and it seems that his offer was accepted before he could explain that he was high and didnt know what he was saying... |
| Andree woke up on the floor, completely dizzy and confused. She noticed that she was several feet away from her bed. She looked around curiously, how did she get there? Suddenly, her eyes fell on the book she had opened only seconds before, or so she remembered. It was sitting there, shut. She crawled over to the book and looked suspiciously at the cover. "What the hell?" She said quietly to herself and she touched the worn, leather cover. It felt normal; she didn't feel any odd sensations when she touched it. She shook her head, she must be having some delusions. However, just in case, she put the book away so she wouldn't have to look at it. As the fear in her head slowly disintergrated into a silent worry, she looked around for her walking stick. She really needed to get out of her little sanctuary, she could already feel herself going crazy. Her foot was oddly much better than it was the day before, surely one night of rest wouldn't cause her to be able to walk without wincing. She smiled as she opened the heavy door of the storeroom and felt moonlight shine down on her face. The world was still going on as if nothing had happened, as if most of the population wasn't taken away to live in an eternal wasteland or eternal paradise. If she had anything to be thankful for, it would surely be the unchanging weather. Before she walked out the large door, she grabbed her dark cloak and red baseball cap. It was pretty chilly, and she wanted to stay incognito. She walked down the dreary streets, wary by how hardly any people walked the streets. Her eyes were suddenly pierced by a light coming from the nearby clocktower. "That's weird," She murmured as she walked along. However, she couldn't keep her eyes off the building. Maybe they had medical supplies to bind her foot, or maybe she was just tired of being alone. She finally reached the entrance of the clocktower. Suddenly as she fought with herself about whether she would take her chances and enter, a shadow of a person was speeding toward the doors. She had no idea what to do, and in a moment of terror, she curled up and hid her face. Then she heard the stranger's steps slow. |
| What was that? Chris saw another shadow out of the corner of his eye. He slowed, but only for a moment. He looked again, but saw nothing. He turned and entered the doors and began to climb the tall staircase. A million thoughts were running through his head. Who was up in his clocktower? What did they want? Were they armed? Did they wish to do him harm? As he approached the top of the stairs he slowed again and quietly poked his head through the opening at the top. The sight that beheld him almost knocked him back down the stairs. Not three feat from his face was a vile looking creature. About three feet high, well built, and sporting the typical demonic horns, this thing was obviuosly up to no good. Chris slowly pulled out his katana and lept in front of the creature. What came next really made Chris' head spin. The demon spoke. "Hello Chris. I have been waiting for you." |
Terry roamed the streets of Chissenger Falls looking straight ahead with the stone cold face she always seem to wear since the Rapture. But inside, she wanted to scream bloodly murder and cry her heart out. The voices in her head were all screaming so loud they gave Terry a spliting headache, but no one else could hear them. Only she could hear their distance crys for help and the sobbings of those who were left by love ones. Only she could hear the words spoken by the hopeless and worn. And even she didn't understand what was happening. Oh, she knew the story. She knew of how God would call all the Christians who believed up to live with him. But what would happen to those left? What would happen to her? After the fire, she didn't know what to do. She found her friends in the same place she left them. Gary's house where they all pretty much lived most of the time, all high as kites. They didn't even know what had happened. And really they didn't care. It was then, when her best "friends" didn't notice the burns on her arms, that she realized they weren't worth it. It was then she left, stealing a pair of black fingerless gloves that covered all the way up to her elbow. And it was then, the moment she stepped outside that house, that she heard the voices. The voices that hadn't stopped that entire week since and still hadn't. Now, here she was. Wandering the streets aimlessly. No where to go. No family to come home to. No family to argue with. No family. No home. Terry slowed as she came to an intersection in the street. She layed down in the middle, staring up at the flashing stop light. Letting the voices and the light overtake her. |
| It seemed that in the coming days many events would happen that could set the stage for the future in it's entirety. Events that might happen to shape around any person at random and could even effect Braedon or Brandt or any of the people they were soon to meet. Everything seemed to have turned into some kind of sick game, where terror knew no bounds and luck had been torn away, screaming for help, like the victims that had been murdered since all Hell had broken loose immediately after the Rapture. William had agreed to let Braedon look through his masses of notes and scripture, books and scolls, to attempt to find any bit of explaination for the currently unfolding events. So far, after looking through mounds of scrolls scripted by the finest of philosophers, and the best of the seers, Braedon had found some very interesting bits of information, no matter how small the amount. It seemed that there would be a shift. A shift after the Rapture, which would entail the power of the Anti-Christ and the Arch-Angel shifting into play. There would be many brutal attacks on the surrounding countryside by brainwashed victims, called Ghouls in the scrolls, which seemed to have already fallen into action. Later there would be great clashes between the Anti-Christ and Arch-Angel, and depending on the outcomes, the world could shift either one way or the other. It had said in a set of the notes that the Anti-Christ and Arch-Angel might not realize who they actually are or what power they really posses. So, apparently, there were two paranormal beings roaming in close range, possibly not knowing that they were paranormal beings to begin with, let alone knowing how to control their power or use it to their advantage. "Jees," Braedon sighed to himself, "We are so thoroughly screwed" "Not if we can find the Arch-Angel and convince them of who they are before the er...opposing forces reach their to-be master. If we can successfully find and help the Arch-Angel, we'll have more than a fighting chance." Brandt had spoken from his huge plush armchair in the corner. "But, we'll need help, and I don't really know of anyone I could trust with this...so unless you know some very trustworthy people, what I said before still stands...We're screwed." Braedon was letting his normal sarcasm shift back into working order as he glared at the wall, mentally willing it to melt before his eyes. "Well, my naive little friend, I happen to know of four very trustworthy people just about your age...But I doubt they'd listen to me, seeing as I'm devoutly involved in the church and because my age often seems to send young people running." After grabbing a notepad from inside his desk, he tore off a piece of paper and handed it to Braedon after scraching something onto it with his old-fashion looking pen. On the paper were four names: Andree Zenthee Terry Monarch Chris Limkee Eli Tirzah "Hmm...So I guess you expect me to round up this bunch and have them here, in full uniform, ready to fight the forces of Hell alongside some possibly non-existant Arch-Angel?" Braedon sighed and grabbed his coat. "Sounds like a plan to me..." He had only had a bit of slight sarcasm in his voice, to take away the edge of the excitement and fear that was burrying itself deeper in his chest with each passing second. As he headed for the door of the office, he grabbed the notes he had been taking on the scrolls and other references and stuffed them into the backpack that he had left outside the room. |
| Andree took in a deep breath and watched as the stranger went into the clock tower. He didn't seem as frightening as she pictured in her head. Without any new thoughts, she opened the large doors and slowly made her way up the stairs, to the top of the tower. She could hear voices, one was the stranger's for sure, while the other seemed inhuman, perhaps even demonic. Then she heard the name Chris, his name was Chris. What a normal name for such abnormal times! She hid herself behind a pile of junk and trash as she paid close attention to the conversation. |
| How could this thing possibly know his name? It wasn't even human! "What do you want?!" shouted Chris. "I want you!" shouted the demon, leaping at Chris' throat. Chris tucked and rolled as the demon soared over his head and smacked into the wall. As he turned, Chris reached for his katana. His hand only grasped air. WHERE HAD IT GONE? The demon charged Chris again and caught him off guard. As he thrust Chris against the wall he began to dig his fingers into Chris' rib cage. The burning sensation was like no pain Chris had ever felt before. The demon leaned in close to Chris' ear and whispered, "I have a whole slough of demons waiting just for you Chris. Your parents might have escaped our wrath, but you will not!" As Chris let out a cry of pain, he caught a glimpse of a figure in the background wielding his katana. "Help me!" |
| "Where are we now?" asked Soonia. She lay back with her head on the ground, long black hair spilled all over the place. "Chissenger Falls," said Eli. "I spent last summer here--there are some people I've kept in touch with. Since everybody else in the world I care about is either dead, here or--you know--I decided to check and see if they were safe." Soonia smiled, nodded and closed her eyes. Eli himself had not slept for almost 48 hours, and it was indeed a tempting notion to lie down and surrender himself to peaceful weightlessness, but he couldn't just yet. Instead, her palm silently fell open, and he began searching the pockets of his coat for food. Finally he found a coffee cake he had taken off the road a few tows back, and tossed it into her hand. Everybody trusted Eli to carry the food he found, because he never tried to eat any of it himself immediately. Soonia was a girl from Eli's high school: tall, pretty, long hair, dark eyes, the most beautiful woman Eli had ever seen. She was also an Arab-American and a Muslim, and for that reason she had been left behind to wander the Earth, just as Eli had been passed over for his religion. She and one other friend from high school, a gay man named Kurt who had majored in acting, were the only ones left from Eli's school who had come with him from out of New York. Everyone else currently with them was someone who had been picked up on the trip. This included mostly teenagers and young children, but also some adults and the elderly. Every day people died from plague, animal attacks or the simple loss of hope, and still more struck out on their own. Eli would not let himself sleep until he had gone out and done more good, until he had worked himself to the moment that further lack of sleep would kill him. Then, and only then, would he return to the tent. Even now he could see himself collapsing with relief, not inches from where Soonia lay. He desperately wanted her to like him, but he couldn't tell if she did. Sam stepped out of the makeshift tent they had constructed with torn leather, tarp and long sticks, and glanced around at the wanderers who had come with him. A thirteen-year-old boy was clawing through garbage. Did he know he was gnawing on a chunk of glass, or was he too hungry to care? Did God care, Eli wanted to know? Eli shut his eyes and considered falling asleep right there outside the tent, on his feet. Then he started walking, walking into the heart of the town, following the fire and the screams. He felt that if he stopped walking he would never be able to start again. He knew he would have to keep on walking until he got that idea out of his head. |
| "Don't you want a bit of background on these kids? Or do you plan on waltzing up to every person your age that you happen to come across, not knowing if they might attempt to kill you or not?" 'God, this man is SO overbearing!' Braedon vented mentally and let out an audible frustrated sigh. "Yes, Will, that is exactly what I plan to do. Because it seems like, at this point, death is a welcome concept. Anything for a change of scenery, isn't that the way it's become?" Braedon didn't care anymore. He was very close to just letting lose, coming unglued, and going off on anyone that came into sight. Including Pastor William Brandt. Who then sighed in such a way that the sound seemed to echo off the medieval stone walls along with the just as ancient cobblestone-like floors. "Braedon, would you mind cutting the whole drama-queen act? It would really be helpful. Honestly." 'SEE!!! Overbearing!' The subconscious mind of a teenage boy could really take control...especially when it starts shouting things loud enough to nearly completely block out the noise of the closely surrounding world. "Well, if you insist..." The words came out as a low grumble, which made no effort in attempt to hide the way that Braedon was feeling. "Well, actually, I don't have all that much information to lend you..." Brandt sounded more than a bit embarrassed at the fact, looking away as the words floated around the room quietly, settling in the teenager's mind. "Well, actually, I'd be better off on my own, wouldn't I? God, you plan to send me out on some 'mission'," Braedon exaggerated his point with violent air-quotes, "And you don't have the first CLUE about who you're sending me after! This sounds more like a suicide-mission than any Hickville USA church round up that I've ever heard of. And the turn out will more than likely end up being either a bunch of know-nothing bigots or some group of drug-addicted wannabe rock stars. This is great, this is JUST great." And with that, Braedon picked up his backpack, having flung it onto the floor in his relentless rage, and stalked quickly to the door, pushing it's hefty weight aside easily. The door crashed back into place, aided by an angry shove from the outside. Braedon's foot was to blame for that one. After the clap! of the door's sudden trip home had subsided, the darkening air outside was absolutely silent. Until a deep, bloodcurdling shout whipped viciously through the tranquil atmosphere that had settled over the landscape in a thick, calming way. Braedon turned on his heel, and headed as quickly as he could in the direction of the scream. He searched the town quickly with his eyes, and it felt as if something was somehow pulling at him to go in the direction of the clocktower, where a light was shining brilliantly through one of the once-magnificent windows, now all but ruin. In a matter of seconds, Braedon was at the entrance of the tall, slender building. He pushed the door open with silent ease and started up the stairs, to the top level of the tower, and the scuffling sounds above him gradual became louder. Halfway up the staircase, Braedon could make out two words being released into the night with a brutally desperate force. "Help me!" He shoved open the door and found a brilliantly violent scene playing out in front of him, worthy of any choice horror movie. The twisted, disfigured creature leaning over the hardy looking boy, pinning his chest to the desk with one slender, knobby hand, twisted his head around a full 180 degrees and pierced the depths of Braedon's eyes, penetrating his concentration and his soul. The momentary distraction allowed the demon's hostage to fight his way out from under the vile claws of the beast, and soon the boy was by Braedon's side. They glanced at one another and then turned to the beast who charged them, katana in hand. |
| Andree watched in amazement at the sight before her. Now, two figures were facing the dark beast that looked hungrily upon them. Suddenly, the newcomer and Chris dashed for the beast, attacking it with unusual looking swords. They swiftly struck the beast on all sides, slashing off its limbs, which drew dark, nearly black, blood. Andree was in complete shock by the way the two humans seemed careless about how brutal and unforgiving they were. The beast fell in its puddle of blood, and looked up at its murderers with the same look it had in its eyes before: complete, excruciating hunger. "Finish it," The newcomer said to Chris, handing him his katana. Chris looked down at the two, bloodied swords he held in his hands. Then he took a long look at the beast. The beast gave an awful looking smile, or what it would consider a smile, and spat out devilish curses and language. "Now!" The newcomer yelled, his voice trembling a little. Andree was also trembling, the sound of the words the demon was speaking was terrifying, she could feel death in the room, and her blood had turned cold. Chris plunged his blades into the demon's breast, and held them there for a long time, digging them deeper when the demon spoke. Finally, the demon ended its death speech, and its body turned into a pool of blood. Chris handed the newcomer's blade back to him, and they silently cleaned off the weapons. Andree was sickened, but she had no words to say to these two individuals. She was not used to seeing so much blood. Then, she noticed a flap of wing through the clock tower's high window, and yelled, "Look out!" As she saw a demon break through the window, shattering the glass into sharp shards. The two individuals whirled around to see the demon flying above them. Andree felt the need to help them, afterall, they were trapped. They wouldn't have time to attack the monster before it beheaded both of them. She whipped out her bow and and aimed as well as she could at the beast. Then, hearing the screams of the demon, the three watched as the beast came down. |
| It came down with a thud. Chris hadn't even seen the demon coming in through the window. After kicking the "dead" bodies, he turned to his two rescuers. One was a guy of average height with ripped and toned muscles and black hair. The other was a beautiful young girl with perfect brown hair done back in a ponytail. In her hand she grasped a bow. Ah, thought Chris, the slayer of the second demon. It was the girl who spoke first. "What in the Hell were those things?" "What in Hell indeed" said the boy. "The question you should be asking is what from Hell." "What do you mean, who are you, and why are you both in my clock tower?" asked Chris. |
| The streets of Chissenger were surprisingly undamaged, Eli thought. In New York, the sidewalks had been so full of rubble that you had to climb through them rather than walk. No here. It was a good thing, too: Eli was so tired now that if he had tried to walk through wreckage, he would have stumbled on the first big rock and broken something. The first thing that came out of the shadows at him was a hell hound, a relatively small one too. Normally they were as big as a man, with burning red eyes and a fiery tail. This one was only as big as a normal dog. Eli sighed as it came closer and unceremoniously fired a bullet into its skull. The policeman who used to own the gun had marked each bullet with a cross, but Eli wasn't willing yet to admit that it was what actually made it lethal to the forces of darkness. It had a bone in its mouth, which Eli picked up. Bones made a useful diversion; if thrown at an infernal creature or a person who was hungry enough, they would usually go for it. Eli's next encounter was a group of clean shaven young men brandishing switchblades, torches and chains. Two of them were trying to kick open a locked door leading into an abandoned bakery; in the very back, Eli could see through the window, several small forms were huddling. Eli had seen enough. Wherever he went, there seemed to be more of these fascist creeps who believed that to redeem themselves they had to kill certain people. He had never had to tackle a whole mob of them on his own, though. Was it a good idea? He didn't even wonder. Instead, he just picked up his gun, leveled it at the nearest guy, and coughed--once, loudly, so that they heard him. For a moment they were silent. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" he asked, as politely as he could. He hoped they couldn't see how tired he was. "We do the Lord's work!" barked the nearest one. "We kill the sinful, the blasphemers! Simply that those who are within still live is an insult to Jesus! Stop us and you will suffer as they will suffer!" "I thought so," said Eli. "Leave, please." He pulled back the gun's hammer. They didn't leave. Instead, they started advancing. Could they guess how many bullets he had left? How many could this gun hold again? Was it seven? He hoped he didn't have to fire it. If he did, there would be a frenzied battle. Many of them would go crazy with bloodlust and end up seriously injuring people. He might not get out alive. His eyes desperately traced the environment for someone nearby. The one directly in front of Eli made a move to grab the gun straight out of his hands. As the man stepped forwards, out of the shadow of the nearby clock tower, something became visible on his chest. It was a necklace made of human eyes. He held up a butcher's knife. Eli pulled the trigger. |
| "What do you mean, who are you, and why are you both in my clock tower?" The boy asked, grabbing his cap from where it had fallen during the heated battle in the previous moments. "That, Oh Naive One, was a demon. If you couldn't see that, then I think we have a serious problem. I am Braedon Adarith, newly self-instated recruit of the Chissinger Falls Community Church. And, while I have no clue of her reason for being here," Braedon gestured to his right, indicating the girl armed with the bow, "I heard a scream. I thought it might be a good idea to find out exactly who was screaming and for what reason." The sarcasm and disgust was clear in his voice. Braedon couldn't stand people who had no ability to figure out the obvious. "Well... That seems reasonable." The boy managed. "Chris Limkee, at your service." The boy saluted him. Braedon and Chris both turned now, looking very directly and intensely at the arrow-slinger. |
| Exhaustion prevented Eli from aiming straight. He meant to kill this butcher--who, obviously enough, deserved that and more--with a shot between the eyes. Instead, he hit the man in the neck, which would kill him slowly and excruciatingly, something Eli didn't wish on anybody. More than that, it gave the man time to attack. With a scream of rage, the slowly-dying man flung himself on Eli, and his knife slipped between Eli's ribs. Eli fumbled for his club and hit the man with a clumsy stroke on the side of the head, but it was enough. He went down. Eli was lucky after all. Some of the mob stayed to fight, but a few of them fled. Even so, there were more than enough of them to kill him, and evnough knives, chains and torches between them to do it. Eli would have been dead if others hadn't heard the gunshot. Out of nowhere an arrow fell out of the sky and killed the man now rushing towards Eli. By this time Eli wasn't even trying to defend himself; he was much more tired than he had previously assumed. Now he was hallucinating that two men with bladed weapons simply jumped from the top of the belltower to the ground to save him. Eli staggered over to the building and leaned heavily against its side as the hallucinations chased the remaining gang members away. He turned to face them, but he couldn't even stand up straight anymore. All he could do was try to control his fall so that he landed on the ground without injury, and suddenly he was out like a light. |
| There was something going on in the street just below them. A crowd of people were closing in on a lone figure. It looked as though he was in need of a little assistance. "Look," said Chris, "we can deal with the formalities later, but right now there is a guy sown there who looks like he could really use our help. Braedon, you and I need to get down there right now, and you mysterious-archer-woman should try to tak a few off those people down from up here. Keep in mind we don't want to kill them, not just yet anyway." As Braedon turned and began running down the stairs of the clocktower, Chris lept out onto the roof and began hopping his way down. When he reached the street he was apalled by what he saw. One man lay bleeding on the ground with a necklace of toes around his neck. The figure that the crowd was converging on was on the ground and unconcious. The crowd was moving in. Braedon came up behind him. "We have to get in there now and start kicking some serious butt before that guy gets seriously hurt!" Chris said. And kick butt they did. |
| It was impossible to tell, on waking, exactly how long Eli had been out, but he knew right away that he had gotten more rest than any time since the Apocalypse. Which really wasn't saying anything at all. There was still the hunger pangs to contend with... and the bruises, and the sore muscles from many days spent walking, and the newly-created knife wound in his side... "ARRRRGHH!" was his first word. Immediately he realized he was sitting in a tower. There were three other people standing nearby. He recognized two of them as the men with blades who had saved him. So they weren't just hallucinations. He exhaled deeply. "Well, look who's up," said one of the men. "Beg my pardon for saying so, pal, but you look like absolute crap." Eli wasn't listening. His weapons had been put in a pile. Even the bullet he had fired last had been extricated from the victim's neck and put back into the gun. Eli checked the gun's magazine. There were seven bullets in all. He picked the sword and the club up. "Th-thanks," he said at last, knowing these people saved his life. "How long have I been out?" "Almost 7 hours," said the man who had spoken before. "My name's Chris Limkee." "7 hours? Shoot! I got to get back to the group area!" he began to hustle about the tower, grabbing his shoes and scooting around for the entrance. "Oh! And I'm Eli Tirzah." "Damn, you're Eli Tirzah? Hey, man, where are you going? We need to talk to you!" "No time!" Eli's voice came from down the stairs. "Follow me, if you want." Everyone shrugged and ran after him. Eli was so happy to see the tents all intact that he sank to his knees, smiling widely for the first real time since the Apocalypse had begun. A lot could happen in seven hours, especially for a gathering of tired, hungry, beaten-down children and young adults. Braedon, Chris, and two others watched from a distance. "This is our fifth guy?" said Braedon, more to himself than anyone else. Then out loud: "This guy's a total spaz." "Jeez, I can't REMEMBER ever seeing such a large group of still-living people," said Chris, watching people come in and out of the makeshift tents. "He must be doing something right." At that moment, Soonia came out of the nearest tent. Standing beside her was a tall red-haired man: Kurt. "Eli!" Soonia ran over to him. "My Go--" she caught herself. "My goodness! We had no freaking idea when you were coming back. Are you all right?" All he could do was look up at her happily. "Soonia." Since the advent of the Apocalypse, it was a new experience to wake up and find that everything that mattered to you was still where you'd left it. "She's a babe." said Chris, watching Soonia. It was pretty easy for him to tell that Eli shared those sentiments. "I'm going to enjoy working with this guy," said Braedon. "You can tell he's got a lot to fight for. Let's talk to him and see if we can get him to join up with us." "Wait, WHAT?" asked Andree, the girl who had saved Eli by firing the arrow. "What do you mean?" "Oh, yeah, I guess I should explain," said Braedon with some hesitation. "Let's get Eli and lemme explain something to you guys." |
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