Arctic Monkeys - 505 (live at Later... )

i'm going back to 505, if its a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive,
in my imagination you're waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs,
stop and wait a sec, oh when you look at me like that my darling, what did you expect, i probably still adore you with you hand around my neck,
or i did last time i checked, not shy of a spark, a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark, frightened by the bite though its no harsher than the bark, middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start,
i'm going back to 505, if its a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive,
in my imagination you're waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs,
but i crumble completely when you cry,
it seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye,
im always just about to go and spoil a suprise,
take my hands off of your eyes too soon,
i'm going back to 505, if its a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive,
in my imagination you're waiting lying on your side,
with your hands between your thighs and a smile!

Arctic Monkeys - Teddy Picker (Live At Barcelona)

Despair to the point till they provoke The punchline before they have told the joke The sheer desperation to be scene/seen Staring at the television screen
Despair to the point where they provoke You to tell the fucking punchline before you have told the joke Sorry sunshine it doesn´t exist It wasn´t in the top 100 list
And it´s the thousandth time and it´s even bolder, Don´t be surprised when you get bent over, He told ya, that you were gagging for it
She saw it and she grabbed it and it wasn´t what it seemed The kids all dream of making it, whatever that means Another variation on a theme A tangle on the television and the magazine
D´you reckon that they do it for a joke? D´you reckon that they make ´em take an oath?
That says "we are defenders Of any poseur or professional pretender around"
When did your list replace the twist and turn? Ah the fist, replaced the kissed-on concern And if you´re bothered, I don´t want your prayers Save it for the morning after
And it´s the thousandth time and it´s even bolder, Don´t be surprised when you get bent over, He told ya, that you were gagging for it
Lets have a game on the Teddy Picker Not quick enough can I have it quicker?
Already thick and you´re getting thicker Lets have a game on the Teddy Picker
Not quick enough can I have it quicker? Already thick and you´re getting thicker
Asuming that all things are equal, Who´d want to be men of the people When there´s people like you?

The Soothsayer - Malignancy

And their voices drowned in the complete ruins of the rain.

Rois' Diner - Melbourne, Australia. Year 2005.

There were downpour all over the country. Outside the twenty-four hours diner parked a dozen police cars with blazing sirens and two ambulances. The rain hit them mercilessly. A dozen black umbrellas cowered in shivers in face of the storm.

Lieutenant Ron gnawed the tobacco in his mouth like an old goat.

Sergeant Percy brought Sarah Qwek to the lieutenant.

'Lieutenant. She is here. She's the one.'

Lieutenant Ron took a quick look at Qwek and returned his glaze back to the diner. 'Media's crawling over all the place, Percy.' He said.

'I'll get to it. Sir.' Replied the ever efficient sergeant.

'No. no.' Said Lieutenant Ron as he looked at Qwek again. 'Let them see how the chinky rodents are ruining this country. Let them know.'

Sergeant Percy defended Qwek and shot hastily, 'Sir! It is not appropriate!'

Lieutenant Ron spoke without looking at them, 'Yeah. Yeah. Pecker. Go get the girl in.'

As Qwek went along with Sergeant Percy, she stared at Lieutenant Ron and said, 'Fuck you.'

Lieutenant Ron laughed as if he heard the funniest joke in the world.

Sergeant Percy briefed Qwek as they approached the diner in caution, 'Listen carefully. Get her to calm down and drop the gun. Or hold her off as long as you can, until we figure out a way to get you.'

Qwek said in the freezing cold, 'Are you guys going to shoot her?'

Sergeant Percy said, 'Mdm, no promises here. Your friend shot four people dead in there.'

Qwek exclaimed, 'Four! You didn't mentioned about dead people just now!'

Sergeant Percy coaxed, 'You are the only one she wants to see. You need to help her out. Is she not your friend?'

Qwek said, 'Yes. She is.'

And from here, Sarah Qwek went on along. She pushed open the plastic door, held her hands up and entered the dark diner. She saw a couple of bodies moving in the low of the shadowy corner.

'Jane?' Said Qwek recalling that her friend had a gun, was hysterical and shot four people dead. Her voice was almost a whimper. She calmed herself and called out again, 'Jane. It's Sarah. I'm here. Where are you?'

'Sarah!' Masaki ran over from the booth seat at the end and hugged her friend tightly. 'Oh Sarah baby! I'm in so much shit now!'

'Fuck. Jane. What the fuck happened?' Asked Qwek as she sat them down in a booth seat. She could see the police sirens blazing from the glossy window.

'I don't know. I don't know. It was Justin. He made me do it.' Said Masaki in quivering lips, not at all looking at Qwek.

'Where's Justin?'

'There. With his best friends.' Masaki pointed to a corner of three corpses. Justin and his two friends had been shot dead in the head and chest. It was a bloody mess.

'Fuck, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.' Exclaimed Qwek holding her hair, 'Where's your gun?'

'Sarah. Please don't be mad! You need to help me! I have no one to turn to now.' Pleaded Masaki.

'The gun. Jane. Where's the gun?' Repeated Qwek again.

'It's in my pants.'

'Give it to me.' Said Qwek sternly.

'No. Baby. No.'

'You asked for help. Now give me the gun.'

'No.' Said Masaki firmly. She was crying.

'Then I'm going to leave you here. I can't help you.' Explained Qwek.

'Don't.' Begged Masaki as she handed over the gun to Qwek. The piece of tool felt so heavy in her hands.

'Okay. Okay. Next you are going to release them.' Qwek was referring to the dozen of hostages at the bar. They were the common people wanting to have dinner at the diner in shirts and ties. Masaki had them tied and gagged.

'Sit with me. I need this. Talk to me about something else. What are they going to do to me when they caught me?' Asked Masaki in sobs.

'Oh dear.' Said Qwek as she hugged Masaki. 'I don't know.'

'Sit with me. Talk to me about something else. Spend some time with me before they get me.' Said Masaki, holding onto Qwek's sleeve.

'Percy said four. There were four.' Remembered Qwek. 'Jane. There were four deaths.'

'I don't know what you are saying.'

Qwek looked at the hostages. One of the hostage looked to the direction of the kitchen.

'No. Don't go there. Baby.' Fought Masaki.

Qwek went into the kitchen. She saw a lady tied and gagged to the edge of the table. She was unconscious and breathing. There were a trail of blood on the floor leading to the freezer. Qwek opened the door of the freezer and found a dead girl on the icy floor. She looked about five. She was shot in the head. Qwek shut the freezer tightly and mouthed in fear, 'Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god....'

'What have you done? Jane. What happened?' Asked Qwek feeling the blood and the life of hers drained and emptied as she returned to the booth seat.

'It was an accident. I was angry and panicked. I kept firing. And it hit the girl. It was not supposed to. I couldn't face her so I dragged her to a place where I couldn't. Her mother was threatening me. I had to tie her away to a place where I can't face her too.' Said Masaki.

'Oh shit. Oh shit. Jane. What have gotten into you? A killing spree?' Said Qwek.

'Don't judge me. Not when you don't know what they did to me. Don't be that bitch.' Said Masaki.

'Fair enough. I'm sorry. I'm really am.' Qwek said. 'What exactly happened?'

'Can we talk about something else? Just sit down and talk about something else.' Smiled Masaki with tears on her beautiful face. 'Tell me about the book that Blanc wrote. Have you finished it? What happened?'

Qwek sat down and held Masaki's hand. 'Bou Blanc. Ahem. Well. It's like what we said, everything falls apart. It was God's will all along, or so the speculation suggested. It's like Noah Ark again, just that this time, only heaven and hell came under scrutiny. Heaven and hell fold. It appeared that they are mutual and could not exist without one another. They exist to justify each other. I haven't finished the book. The finals are near and I didn't have time to read.'

'You didn't have time for anything else too.' Chided Masaki, releasing her hand from the grip.

'I... Is that so?' Said Qwek. 'Are you blaming me for all these? It's a pretty big responsibility.'

'You're being that bitch.' Scoffed Masaki, 'You knew what I meant. Don't put my head in the water like this. Not in such times.'

'It's pretty fucked up, Jane. You are pretty fucked.' Said Qwek, 'You among most things I can imagine. But a murderer? Jane. I loved you. You have to tell me you don't just go around killing people. I know you. You are that Jane in which I told you every single detail in my life. You are that Jane that carried me to the hospital when I'm burning in forty degree temperature. You are that Jane that are proud and confident of everything you are in life. You are my bestie. You are my person. Jane. Please. Let me know what happened?'

Msaski beamed shyly and tears began to flow. 'Cry for me when I'm done and over with. Sarah Qwek. Will you cry for me? I know you have this inability to cry. Cry for me. Can you do that for me? For our friendship?'

Qwek looked at the shivering Masaki earnestly.

'We broken up. Justin and me.' Started Masaki in tears, 'He was drinking too much and he beats me from time to time. I had to get away. Then they came while you were away in school. Justin and his frat pals. Fucking pigs! They raped me and tortured me.They made me do things. Horrible stuff. They said that I'm into porn and that it was in my blood that I could be subjected to their perversion. It's in my blood? Fucking pigs. Do you what they made me do? Sarah? Do you know what they made me do after they peed and beat the crap out of me?'

'They bleedin' made me fucked a dog. Sarah.'

'Oh my god. Oh fuck.' Replied Qwek in shock.

'They had a gun. They were drunk. They wanted to bring me to a brothel outside the town. Justin wanted me to pay back in interests. He said. He was drunk, the fucking pigs were all drunk. They needed coffee and dinner. We came to this diner. His friend was called Rocket or something. Kept pinching my breasts and he had the gun while Justin was ordering. He was putting the head of the gun into my vagina. They wouldn't let me wear anything inside. Rocket put the gun in me and was giggling like a pig. I managed to snatch the gun from him. And I start shooting. I was... out of my head. Literally. I could see me shooting from the corner. Until I hit the little girl. Oh my god! What have I done? She was dead in a blink. So was Justin and Rocket and the other pig. All dead. Everyone was screaming and looking at me. As if it was in my blood. To fuck up. And so I tied them up and wait for you. I need you so much.'

Qwek held Masaki tightly, 'Oh dear. I didn't know. I'm sorry that I been away! I'm sorry what they did to you! I'm sorry for everything!'

The entrance of the diner's door blew opened and the policemen rushed in with torches and firearms.

Sarah Qwek turned away with the gun in her hand and yelled, 'It's okay! I have the gun! She's...'

A gunshot fired and it exploded through Sarah Qwek's chest and she was thrown to the wall of the booth seat with blood all over the table.

'Fuck! Percy! What the fuck!' Screamed Lieutenant Ron. He made a grab for Jane Masaki.

'She... She had a gun. I thought... I thought... Oh my. Oh my. Oh my...' Said Sergeant Percy as he dropped to his knees with his jaws hanging and bugling eyes.

'What the fuck are you bozos staring at? Help the girl for Christ's sake! Get the medics in! Numbnuts!' Commanded Lieutenant Ron.

'Sarah! Sarah! Sarah! Sarah!' Fought Masaki hysterically as they forced her away in captivity.

And their voices drowned in the complete ruins of the rain.



To Be Continued...

The Soothsayer - Phantasmagoria

It's that gentle odd feeling that bubbled from the hot soup of your infantile fear as your head began to whirl with questions surfacing, when one was lost. But no, the questions didn't pop as they swelled round and full, like those darn bubbles. They wouldn't go away. They were the wraiths that haunted you with that gentle odd feeling in the very first place. To remind your feeble comprehension that you were indeed lost. And maybe, you would feel beneath the subplot of your fear, that you might be lost for good. Sometimes it might not be such a bad idea too, you know? If you are lost forever, then you are not lost at all. You are just searching. Something you might want to tell yourself as the time flew and you were lost.

Everyone got lost every now and then. Some strayed from the course, while others got themselves lost in attempt to learn something valuable. So one might want to know what happen in the first place, when one started to disappear in unfamiliarity and details. That could be important. The horrors that ensue later on would mostly determine by how you lost yourself in the very first place.

Like most things desperate, getting lost tugged feverish on blind faith. Vvael was in a forest filled with blinding lights. The jungle was raised from earth to the starless night with bronze shone crucifixes. Some dozen blue steel of the crosses bore the housing of the crows with yellow eyes and coats so dark that they glistered in nefarious darksome. They peered at Vvael in bored interest, their yellow eyes flickering. On blind faith that you thought you knew how to tell the difference in details. On blind deciphering wisdom. Vvael held onto to the rusty wheel of his wheelchair. Because things changed and shifted in this place. They always did. And that made finding his way challenging to date. At some point of his travel, the metal trees of crucifixes bent around and over to form the grim designs of the human hearts. They whimpered at the mercy of the midnight breeze. You know how they look when things bent and twisted. They always have this hole in the middle. The darkness that ate them empty from the core.

They were lonely. He was lonely. Darkness of the loneliness.

And he was just a boy.

Vvael bit back his attention. Distraction was very dangerous in places that shifted and turned. Higelot understood that too. Heaven was drastically altered. So much that it could be described as wounded. Virtue was the highest code of honor among God's creation. The purest of chasity. And with virtue, one could never be afraid. Higelot, the host championing Virtues felt fear for the first time in his existence. And absolute fear, in case if one had never felt it in his entirety, was both physiological and intrinsically fascinating. Your guts burden, your temples moisten and your scalp stung. A dirty mix of sweetness dipped in coal black cauldron of anticipation and when one really taste it, the hint of the bitter sweetness was euphorically claustrophobic and apocalyptic.

There were sand everywhere. No buildings, sanctuaries and no songs. The Silver City from a distance was supposed to appear like a crystal crown of brilliance. The utopia. Now it was buried in grayish sand and ashes. It filled up to Higelot's ankles. Higelot tried to look to the stars for bearings. But the stars were long gone, along with the songs. Higelot unfurled his wings and pierced his flight. He could not afford to get lost in times like this.

Vvael was ushered in a flash into this exquisite room among many rooms in the great mansion. Vvael rolled himself to the dusty window and peered out of the shades. He saw the view of the town. The ebony forestation of crucifixes. And an empty field of dead petals.

He must have often peered out from here. The corner of his room. All he could do for the days. Watching people across the streets. Watching healthy children playing in the field. Kicking a ball around. Running in summer scent.

For many years in his establishment in the mortal realm, Vvael thought he studied enough and understood how easily distractions could change people's lives. He witnessed eager boys walking into his bar for the very first time in their lives, turned out bitter and scornful drunk twenty years later. He saw old conies reminiscing their previous lives and guessing the what ifs with many bottles of intoxication. Vvael thought he knew all there were to know about the human distractions. Until now. Vvael was in a human mind and learnt that he had underestimated the threshold of distractions that a human mind could bear. Eilert Swane's mind shifted and shifted. He was lonely, frightened, lost, sad and involved in other emotions that crippled him as a person. Outwardly, he just appeared to be a frail rich boy in a wheelchair, but interiorly, he was engulfed by the crippledom of the ability to feel otherwise.

If being lonely was the only the thing that he could only feel. Then he wished he could stop feeling. Anything. Such negativity was not uncalled for. For Young Master Swane had long decide that he could never feel happy, no matter what else. Maybe if he could walk. Maybe not. Maybe it wasn't about his crippledom in the first place.

It was his heart all along.

All along.

While Vvael was a watcher, the observer, Higelot was the hunter. Instead of trying to make sense of the stories and metaphors, Higelot pounced on details and ran on his instinct. Among the sandy rubbles and the void of serenity, Higelot picked up a scent of familiarity. A distinct, yet faint scent of corruption that had not existed in the Silver City for thousands of years until now, when everything falls apart. Higelot hunted the scent.

Vvael rolled onto the empty street. A thunder groaned and some lights among the low hung clouds. The atmopshere was crushing with a depressive hue. The town was in a ruin. Run down shophouses, cottages broken into and decreased garden beds. Brown ships anchored near the bay and the sea was but a puddle of mud in the ground. A divergence of three pathways in the intersection of the town's fountain. The three statues erected in upon the stone of the dried fountain each pointed a different direction. The angel with grey chalky marble wings, the devil with broken horns and the boy without legs. Vvael reached over to touch the boy statue and the head crumbled softly to blowing dust.

It was his heart all along.

It began to rain in Heaven. The Silver City got its fair share of drizzle from time to time, but this rain was nothing like anything ever existed anywhere, even in the world of Man. The rain washed away the sand into cream and flowing cement. The rain washed away the dignified silence of the ruin of the most important places in all existences into a maelstrom of rushing nosies and rumblings of all creatures as if they broke their backs in a wicked trap and had to die crying. Not unlike Hell. The rain was washing away the scent. Higelot sped. He was struggling against the profound nature of this storm. His wings pained in unimaginable places and shapes. He could not afford to lose the scent. The scent so close to the source. The problem and the end. Higelot tumbled to the white and gray wash of the destruction. His wings caked in rain and dirt. He had to get to the scent before it was lost to the rain for when he too would be lost in this myriad of lost paradises and shards of brewing turmoils. Not when the world depended on it. Not when the hearts of all existences depended on it.

It was near the dried fountain, they hit him across the jaw and sent his wheelchair sprawling onto the asphalt. The folks were made of clay. They had no eyes, just unhinged jaws of soil. They giggled like frightened children. One of them gotten over Vvael and started strangling him with sheer force. The fingers dug like knives, cutting into his throat. Vvael fought and tried to tear the clay face of his assailant. All he could hear was giggles. The yellow dirt scratched away by Vvael's nails and revealed the grinning face of The Adversary.

'Samuel?' Vvael asked in chokes and tears.

'Sshh...' Coaxed the Lightbringer dressed in clay, 'Less talking. More dying. Child.' With quick a flash in the Morningstar's eye, 'Remember, little cherub, Remember you picked this route.'

'I'm not sorry! I'm not sorry!' Cried Vvael in short, quick breaths.

'Love. Hush.' Grinned Lucifer, his wings unfurled. 'You knew this day will come. Each of you knew. That I will return with my hands all over the brown nose necks of you cowards. Where is He now? Beg Him for your salvation. Beg Him to make me go away.'

He was angry. He was very angry. At the world, at himself and his meaningless existence.

The Lightbringer squeezed his grip harder, 'What's wrong with me? What's wrong with choices? What's wrong with self-belief that you could get stronger then they, than He believes in you? I am the example of free will. I am the Epoch. I am free.'

'Samuel...' Cloaked Vvael, 'We already had free will. We chose not to fall.'

Lucifer roared, 'Do not attempt to tell me what you thought you already knew. Because you don't! You wouldn't end up in such perilous state if you had.'

Higelot found the root of the scent. The rain crashed on. He found himself square at where His throne was before it was moved to the sanctuary. After Yahwen cast Angel Samuel, captain of heavenly hosts down, there was a hole in which the light wouldn't shine. It led straight down, along the fall, along the grim path in which they fell. The hole continued to burn in eternity and they had to moved His throne. The place in which the greatest confrontation acted on no longer had the blessing of His grace. Higelot found the hole and it continued to burn.

The First of The Fallen went for the kill, but instead he flew and was tore apart. The mud blew in rocky pieces and his grin smeared in the wind. Vvael felt for his burning throat and saw who rescued him, it was Suicides the Zephr. Suicides pulled Vvael hastily to his wheelchair.

'But he is your lord...' Choked Vvael.

'Please, angel. Surely you don't take faith even in such counterfeit.' Hissed Suicides as he butchered the rest of the clay people. 'A divergence in his mind. Maybe more. The influences.'

Vvael pointed to the chalk angel on the fountain, 'Kepharel. I can understand. But the devil?'

Suicides heaved and pushed Vvael's chair away, 'The devil is inside everyone these days.'

It's God. It's God's will that he is the herald. And through him, faith and redemption will reignite and the world will once again earn His trust and land a place in His embrace after death. Eilert traveled far and wide, through the ice and the fire. He will get there. For his life will be meaningless without His message. And one more person he reached, another one repented. Eilert would scale treacherous mountains and swim across seas to the end of the world if this was what He wanted. With the legs given by the Him, he would go to the end of the universe if he had to, for in Him, he renewed his faith in things that were thought to ease inside him, and Eilert Swane was happy for change. A purposeful life was a lived one. Regardless of the endless despises and the beatings he received, Eilert received them earnestly like food to the soul. Each spit made him stronger, each punch made him wanted to preach more. He was happy.

They found him. They found Eilert Swane wrapped in a warm cocoon in the ground of sulphur and diamonds. In an underground coffin under the scalp, Kepharel kept Eilert's conscious alive. The rouge angel couldn't get rid of the mere mortal, for Kepharel was no more than a whisper in his ears than his own will over his body. And crippled Cherubim and the Zephr was right. Eilert Swane, The Fire Monster, The Fire Spirit, The Soul Eater was something more than a puppet manipulated by a simple plot of overthrowing Hell. The properties and the purpose was underestimated by both the forces of the dark and the light.

From the moment of their entry to the Inferno, Eilert could no longer will his body. He was caged in his own mind, witnessing the war. But Eilert anticipated that. Though he loathed the rouge angel from robbing him of his destiny, Eilert surrendered. Because he knew and saw the greater plan. He was no longer just the herald to his people. He was more.

The end is drawing near.

The ground shook and bellowed. Something was happening to the Fire Monster and they had to be quick. Suicides dug Eilert Swane's bended composure up and sat him onto Vvael's lap on the wheelchair. Suicides pushed them in a hurry. The skies ripped apart, sucking all lights and sounds into the darkness.

Vvael asked Eilert, 'Are you alright? We need you to get a grip over your powers and stop this madness.'

In gasping breaths, Eilert smiled, 'It's too late. The end is nigh.'

Oh, he know he is right.



To Be Continued...

The Soothsayer - Intermission

Ann Heights Studio Apartment unit 413 - Melbourne, Australia. Year 2005.

'No? Ever? Come to think of it. Yeah. No recollection of you ever.'

'I don't cry.'

'It's ridiculous.'

'Believe what you want. I don't cry. I can't. I don't know why.'

'Wow. What it felt like?'

'What? The crack?'

'Unable to cry. What it feels like?'

Asked Masaki.

Rain battered on the window panes of the dark apartment of the two foreigners. Within the loud echos of youngsters having raunchy sex in the television to the empty living room, the harmony of the house remained unperturbed by the growing storm. A dozen of candle lights held the orange visibility shakily upon the wet tiles, sketching quivery silhouettes on the bathroom walls. In the foamy waters of rose petals, the two tenants sat facing each other at each end of the bathtub. Their legs lapping each other's in soft and moist intimacy in close confinement. Sarah Qwek, a Singaporean was here on a scholarship laid out powdery cocaine on the slick edge of the tub and started snorting it with a rolled sheet. Her friend of mixed heritage at the opposite end, Jane Masaki was half Japanese and Canadian. Masaki already drunk with too much crack in the depth of her system was nursing a bottle of Vodka dreamily.

'Horribly numb in a good way. Or invincible in the bad way. Either way, I don't really two fucks.' Replied Qwek, shaking her head like a wet puppy. 'This shit is kicking me real hard. Where did you get them?'

'Justin. Whoa! Talk about mood killing. Who turn up the porn next door?' Exclaimed Masaki, 'Wait. I was the one. Now why did I turn on my own porn? God. I'm so high that I don't know what I'm saying right now!'

'I think it's weird watching yourself having sex on the telly.' Said Qwek laying her head softy on the corner of the wall and lighted up her weed. 'Who the fuck is Justin?'

Masaki covered her eyes with her palms for a long time and smiled, 'The lighting guy. He's very dorky. Pretty much like you when you get all studious during exams, in your bottle coke glasses and stuff. But he's sweet. Did I tell you that I have this thing for man who cry. Well, I suppose now I have. Justin cries after he ejaculates. I never seen a man cries after sex. They were all like smoking and bitching, but Justin is different. Oh did I ever tell you I'm wild over weird people. Whoa! At first, it was freaky. But after that, it gets kind of endearing to watch him sleep in his tears. It brings out the naturing side of the female minds. Yeah. He's sweet, in a freaky way.'

'It's pretty much free for all in the porn industry huh?' Said Qwek as she pulled near a candle. Its blight shone weakly on the tribal tattoo on her left deltoid. 'You guys have no professional code or rules of conduct on co-workers relations?'

'Porn sets are like the athletic villages in the Olympics.' Said Masaki as she played with the bubbles in their bath, 'Everyone is so beautiful. Everybody glows.'

'Even the lighting people?' Asked Qwek as she put on her thick glasses.

'Justin? No. He's very meek and tiny. And I like that. I don't need superheroes. I'm surrounded by them everyday. I just need a teddy bear. A cuddle. A snuggle.' Replied Masaki. 'Though I must say Justin always came too soon. He could really work on that.'

'You lusty bitch!' Grinned Qwek, 'He's fucking a pornstar for crying out loud! Give that poor folk a break! You expect him to measure up?'

'Well. You know what?' Smiled Masaki as she moved in the bath towards Qwek beneath the drawing shadows of the candlelit storm. 'You look pretty tasty tonight.'

'Yeah?' Beamed Qwek, drunk with intoxication.

'You know. With your geeky glasses, I can so see it now. Sarah the Catholic School Girl waiting to get bone by her bestie and the school professor! You should so do porn!' Screamed Masaki.

'You know I'm really catholic right?' Asked Qwek.

'Yeah but... It doesn't work that way. You know it doesn't.' Reminded Masaki, suddenly awaken from her seduction. She drew back in the bath back to her corner. 'You can't be gay and catholic at the same time.'

'Says?'

'God? I don't know! Can you?' Said Masaki exasperatedly.

'No. I don't know either. But I think faith shouldn't build on concepts and ideals of others. I believed in God and my belief in Him and every ways are intimate. Just between Him and myself. It should go beyond what other people expect about the religion.' Explained Qwek softly, 'But that being said, it's always a mortal wound to get raised in a Catholic family and grow up to believe that I will burn in Hell because of my preference. It used to be such chore. Is being gay wrong, or is the religion just stupid? I don't care. I simply doesn't now.'

'Babe, you need this more than me.' Masaki handed over the heavy bottle of Vodka. 'You think people who did amateur porn will ever get into Heaven?'

'Nah.' Shook Qwek as she downed the Vodka, 'People who do sex for money or to the wong gender won't. The homosexuals and the pornstars get bounced out from the pearly gates. Or so says the Pope.'

'Good, at least we still have each other.' Offered Masaki, lighting up two cigarettes and passing one to Qwek. 'To hell with heaven. Just like that book you've been reading.'

'Aw... You noticed my book list. You are indeed a bestie.' Grinned Qwek, reaching over the foamy water for a quick hug. 'That old bean is something I encountered while researching for that fucking fucking fucking, fucking school debate about the purpose of Hell, that I'm only so glad that it's over. Heck! I had thrown away everything that were to throw into the trash so that I don't have to relieve those agonising moments again. Saved this book. It's an odd book. I could never use it for the debate though. It's so weird that I actually like it. You will like it. Because you like weird stuff. It's so freaky that you probably want to jump in bed with.'

'I have Justin to fuck, you can fuck the book yourself.' Said Masaki. 'What is it about?'

'You really want to know?'

'Why not? I read stuff. Sometimes. But I read.'

'Right. Erm. It's written by this French bloke called Bou Blanc. Somewhere in eighteen fifties? I'm guessing the only book he ever wrote. It was bad. It was like hungry, freaky children in a candy shop, loose. The flow of plot was deranged and unconvincing. Coupled with confusing verses and stupid rhymes that refused to rhyme. It was so bad that I can't believe that someone actually published it.' Paused Qwek sucking into her cigarette and felt the veins at her temples pulsating. 'Anyway I'm glad that someone did. Man, that poor publisher. The book was banned from at least a hundred country. It was so fucking controversial.'

'Your point, your point. You are trailing off in your ramblings.' Lectured Masaki, 'And stop getting the ashes into the water!'

'Anyways. Supposingly in the same league as the works of Milton and Dante,
building of pure fantasies of the Christian after world. But Blanc
never did receive any recognition for his effort, he was virtually
unknown in the literally world, scoffed off by churches, rejected by all religions, wheelchair bound on social welfare and
vanished totally at the end of the century. Unlike Dante and Milton, he
didn't dwell too much on biblical history, but babbled about an unknown
war between heaven and hell.' Said Qwek catching her breath back with another deep suckle of her dying cigarette.

'What's wrong with wars? I mean, wars ain't special anymore. War is this red button beneath the scalp, just next to the left tragus of ear. War is the natural mechanism in mankind. You have Nam, Gulf, Europe, Korean, Africa. The penises, the vagina. Everyone are fighting wars with themselves every day. Michael fought the first war in heaven.' Reminded Masaki, 'Tell me things I haven't heard of.'

'Blanc said that Heaven went and invade Hell.' Gave Qwek.

'Okay. That's better.' Said Masaki. 'And?'

'It made them look really bad. The angels. Being good christian soldiers and everything, I guess bloodlusts and ambitions are considered blasphemy from where they were. God? God was away and so was Satan. When the cats are gone, the mice start to play. That's the backbone of Blanc's literature. Seemingly. Because the whole story, I felt actually served as this metaphorical backdrop of fate versus destiny. Are we mere puppets incapable of driving our lives? Can we choose and live the lives we want? Are we suppose to get larger than life? Is it really impossible not to get lost in our paths? As the angels fought in rivers of blood and fire in the wailing lurid underworld for their selfishness, I can't help but to feel for them and us, too. The naiveness and the dangers in believing in ourselves.'

'You finished it?' Asked Masaki, 'What happened in the end? What did the French say?'

'I haven't finished it. It's a nasty read. It's like it's half a book while you have to fill the rest with the spoils of your imagination, deciphering and interpretations.' Said Qwek. 'But I can lend you the book thereafter?'

'Nah. You are the one with brains and you have troubles reading it.' Laughed Masaki, 'Just tell me how it end.'

'The way I see it. People like Blanc are sadists. They are obsessed with depravity and decays of life. The downhills.' Offered Qwek. 'It won't be a happy one.'

'Sarah. I never believed in the happy ones.'



To be continued...

The Soothsayer - Salvation

Wall Of Gehenna - The Scavenger Peak Under The Three Suns upon the Infinite Hours.

The Wall of Gehenna was a fold of sky piercing mountains in icy ebony shades. The landfill of the corpses of the slain devils from the reminiscence of the First War by Michael and his archangels. In disgust of his failure, Satan left the fallen decomposing slowly on the cold slab of the peaks where they were so close to the suns, yet felt no warmth. They were exposed to the torments from the eyeless birds and the biting freeze.

The Wall of Gehenna was not the highest ground in Hell contrary to Kepharel's reason, but it was the only place that was not built with wailing sinners. With The Fire Steward conflagrating sinners; the very foundation of Hell, The Wall might as well soon become the highest terrain in Hell.

Left with seven hundred odd angels, Kepharel took Gehenna and made camp. Not losing any time with the millions of hordes closing in, Kepharel instructed his Fire Servant to scale The Wall.

The foot of Gehenna began a river of blood contributed by what seem like the dismaying defeat by the hosts. Some dozen angels daunted with their doom, surrendered to the fallen.

Vvael, of Cherubim with his wings clipped, the tendons on his ankles severed and his abdomen bleeding, sat in a rusty wheelchair with a silver noose around his waist. No words could express his inner turmoil as he witnessed the massacre of his comrades and the blindness of his protege.

Kepharel looked at Vvael with his bleary eyes, 'Have you lost your tongue as well? Where is your wit on times like this?'

'It is not necessary anymore.' Vavel muttered under his crushing breath, 'It's too late and too redundant for words now.'

Ndmh, of Dominions reported, 'The Fire Behemoth had reached the submit.'

Kepharel gave a tired grin and peered at Vvael, 'Very soon, you will see the greatness invested in me by creation of our Lord. You will no longer deny me when you observe the next very minute.'

To his lieutenants, Kepharel commanded them to clear him a path to the submit. With a spring step, Kepharel unfurled his wings and soared towards the peak.

'Ignite yourself. Eilert Swane.' Kepharel ordered his Fiery Puppet, 'Blossom your fire to the reach of Heavens. You are the lighthouse to the tainted souls. You are salvation.'

The Fire Beast trembled and erupted his flames, like a pillar of fire, his blaze jet into the skies forming a burning crucifix of brilliance.



The Seventh Circle of Hell - The Violent - Forestry of Violent Against Themselves upon the Infinite Hours.

By the river of blinking eyes and sulfur soil, Nongchai watched as the world in Hell got up and moved. One by one the subjects in the leafless forestry of the seventh circle stripped themselves clear. The sinners got up from the earth that made entirely of them, the rivers that founded on their eyes and the trees that stemmed from their wretched bodies. Abandoning their stations of punishment, the zillions of sinners walked towards the flaring crucifix in a distance away like moths to a flame.

Nongchai began to understand the desertion.

Hell was in ruins and salvation was offered. Nongchai gathered his innards in the bowel of his arms and followed the crowd.

Hell was done.



Cocytus - Throne Of Lamentation upon the Infinite Hours.

'Twelve! And! Thirty! Billions! Thirteen! And Thirty! Billions!' Squawked the scout with talons. 'Exhaustive! Depletion! Alarming! Alarming! My Highness! Need! To! Act!'

Current lord of the underworld, Asmodai the Terror, Lust and Aggression serpent slanted his creature eyes and growled deeply, 'Let us see.'

Asmodai spread his fourteen draconian wings and took flight with his five black tails behind him. His hundred loyalists followed.

Hell was filled with sinners; seas of them, wretched, jiggered and damned migrating to the search of the burning crucifix.

'The fairy is burning Hell up.' Croaked Asmodai the Infernal, 'You know what it will lead to?'

The scout flapped his wings of sunshine, trying to keep up with Asmodai squeaked, 'Without! The! Sinners! Hell! Is! Never! Never! As! Never! My Happiness! To! Best! We! Pour! All! Hordes! To! The! Frontier! To! Gehenna! To! Wall! To! End! Else! Vanquish! Hell! The! Hours! Drawn! Near!'

'Hell will stay the way it was.' Muttered Asmodai. 'The way Lord Morningstar left it and found it when he returns. The Fire Servant remained a perilous invulnerability to tackle since his physical was unaffected by both realms. I wonder how that fairy got hold of him? Never mind the unthinkable. Suicides is on it. Continue the defense as the way it was. Let the sinners incinerate into mere delusions. To add strength into our defense will be futile as I'm getting the sense that Ziquiel, of Powers had led his troops in aid of the fairy.'

'But! My! Mystery! Hell! Fold! When! There! There! Are! Not! Any! Sinners! Left!' Cawed out the scout.

'Then it looks like we have to raise the wager of this game.' Croaked Asmodai, 'Prepare thyself to attack the mortal realm. We will kill every single Man for every sinners they burnt. We will plunge the souls of mankind into the darkness of Hell and give those pixies the war that they want so badly.'



Hall For Sixteen Departments Of Heart Gouging upon the Infinite Hours

'Asmodai is madness itself.'
'As I said before, my brothers and sisters. Asmodai will fail Hell. Yet my wisdom is but a whimper of wind before your deaf ears.'
'Asmodai is the lame itself.'
'Did you hear what Asmodai said? To keep Hell the way it was that Morningstar left and returns. Wretched fantasy. Lucifer knew this was going to happen and left us to our own devices. Such leadership. Curses and damnation to our servitude. We are betrayed by our king!'
'Did you hear what Asmodai said? He was going to fight Man. To plunge mankind into Hell to compensates the souls we lost to the Fire Angel. Pure stupidity!'
'Asmodai is the weak itself.'
'Did you hear? Did you hear?'
'The song of reason. Listen!'
'Every now and then. I see thunder and strange frowns.'
'Asmodai is their collaborator.'
'Asmodai.'
'Asmodai.'
'Asmodai must be stopped.'
'How? My brothers and sisters? How?'
'Sydonai.'
'Asmodai must be stopped.'
'And he will, my sweetness.'
'Asmodai is just Asmodai itself.'
'We will kill them all. And take the Silver City next. Oh! Do you fiends not salivate at that thought?'

The millions of eyes in the dark of the grave hall blinked incessantly.



The March Towards The Fire Crucifix upon the Infinite Hours.

Nongchai felt the nausea more now. He watched the zillion sinners, one behind each back, walking into their sweet doom, their release from this place. Nongchai held back his shivers and green cheeks.



Divinity Courts of Counsel upon the Hundred and Eighty-sixth Candlelights.

Balthial, of Thrones, guardian of The Silver City, successor of Gabriel learnt that Ziquiel, her closest ally had joined forces with Kepharel in Hell. Ziquiel had led his archangels to Kepharel's aid.

Ziquiel, of Powers had bought Kepharel's vision of the new kingdom of heaven.

Balthial hang her head in soft resignation as she sang softly to the choir of the Great Seraphims.




The March Towards The Fire Crucifix upon the Infinite Hours.

The sinners tried to help Nongchai up, but he kept bowing over, succumbing to the tumors of pain in his head. The sinners preoccupied by their salvation, left Nongchai alone. Nongchai with his cold guts in the cradle of his arms, dragged his ill body with each pull of his ankle. Under the three suns, Nongchai willed himself to the march. Despite the pain, despite the the nagging thought.

The thought of something foreign in his head. Something other than a cigarette. Something worse.



Tainted Seal Of Angel Samuel, The Estranged Captain of Hosts - Denmark

Oriaries, of Cherubim examined the seal where her comrade's blood was spilled to offend it. Her scout returned to report on Hell. They learnt about trapping of Kepharel and his rouges in the Wall of Gehenna, the timely aid of Ziquiel and the puzzling fact that Asmodai refused to push the entire hordes to annihilate the angels in Hell.

'Asmodai. He must have laid his plans elsewhere.' Said Oriaries. 'He must be thinking of alternatives to harvest souls.'

'Such bizarre battleworks!' Exclaimed Higelot, of Virtues, 'Since when Asmodai the Infernal feared confrontation and seek such cowardice methodology?'

'He's persevering Hell.' Explained Oriaries, 'For Asmodai truly held faith that the Morningstar will return.'

Oriaries ordered her archangels to guard the mortal realm against the invasion of Asmodai.

'Comrade Higelot.' Oriaries asked of his service, 'You are needed back to the Silver City. This Fire Golem of Kepharel is familiar. His uncanny power was precedented. I require your investigation.'

'What about comrade Vvael?' Higelot asked.

'I will seek him out in Gehenna.' Oriaries said.

Another scout returned with strange news. The Red Gates of Oni, the entrance to Hell was gone. It had vaporised into thin air. The geography of Hell was altered. Oni was no longer included.



The March Towards The Fire Crucifix upon the Infinite Hours.

Someone was in his head. Someone was in his head. Someone was in his head. Someone was in his head. Someone was in his head.

Nongchai cried as he began to hit himself in the temples to block out the whispers.

Nongchai struggled to keep up with the march.

It would be all fine. Nongchai encouraged himself. Everything will be fine when he throw his bitter flesh into the embrace of the flaming crucifix.



Cocytus - Throne Of Lamentation upon the Infinite Hours.

They always came with the darkness, even in Hell. Shadows drawn and cast over Cocytus. The invisible enemies from within beckoned Asmodai the Infernal to give up his charge over Hell.

They began to speak behind the corners of the blackness and the sightless.

'Sydonai.'
'Asmodai.'
'Chammadai.'
'The Chimaera.'
'The Deep Infernal.'
'Of Serpent, Bear and Dragon.'
'We call your names.'
'We summon the titles that bind you to this realm.'
'We drew breaths that end yours.'

'Show thyself. Gamygyn, Glasyalabolas. The marquees and twenty legions of Purgatory.' Croaked Asmodai. 'Remove thy shadow that cloaks my lair and reveal thy schemes. I have more critical matters at hand.'

'Well put, Chimaera.'
'Well intended. Chammadai.'
'Least you know what we bring you.'
'Remember not what we brought others?'
'Great Asmodai. Diminutive Sydonai. You are but you itself.'
'Remember not what we brought others?'
'We are the kings killer.'
'Ah. but you are burden with critical matters at hand.'
'Worry nay, sweet Infernal. We are here to share your burden. One foot that had grown quite the size too big for your shoe to fill.'

'Then come get and me, you miserable dogs.' Asmodai scoffed, 'And stop wasting my time. I got real people to kill.'

In darkness of Lamentation, Asmodai saw eyes.



Wall Of Gehenna - The Scavenger Peak Under The Three Suns upon the Infinite Hours.

The Great Fire Spirit, the burning pillar of crucifix had by far incinerated half the population of sinners in Hell. The massacre at the foot of the Wall raged on, spilling blood everywhere on the fallen corpses of the First War.

Some hundred demons realised the eventual fate of Hell surrendered to the hosts.

The seas of sinners continued to come in all directions of Hell to be torched by Eilert Swane.



Nongchai Phromyothi

Nongchai learnt that he had a demon residing in the back of his mind. His head was imploding with sharps and tension. That demon was a Zephr, envoy of Asmodai himself.

'What... what do you want from me?' Nongchai found himself mumbling.

The voice returned was unnatural and deep, 'You are my chariot to Gehenna, where you sought to submit your flesh. Your head would be the consultation for the Cherubim I seek.'

Nongchai closed his bleeding eyes and saw the image of the Zephr. It was a lion with beaks and talons. It had large wet butterfly wings.



The Vast Valley Of Hinnom - The Children Hell upon the Infinite Hours.

Oriaries, of Cherubim had almost lost her way in Hell. It's atlas was so drastically altered with its mandalas misplaced. The Red Gates was gone. There was nothing but vacuum there and it almost pull Oriaries with its suck. And now Hinnom was nowhere to be found too. Oriaries flew around the emptiness for the longest time and managed to trace her way back.

Without sinners, Hell had to fold.

Oriaries must find her way to Gehenna fast.



Nongchai Phromyothi

Nongchai crawled at his head to stop the pressure in his head. In the back of his mind, Nongchai saw that there was an addition to the Zephr daemon's gathering. It was an old man in a rusty wheelchair. The old man suffered from an abdominal injury and seemingly bleeding to death.

'Vvael, of Cherubim.' Called out the Zephr in the mind of Nongchai.

Vvael aroused from the slumber of his fatality and realised that he was in a sinner's mind. Vvael peered at the Zephr who called out to him and said in recognition, 'Angel Iahmel. It's you.'

'Try not to begin our first meeting since a hundred thousand years with insults.' The Zephr said, 'I'm Suicides.'

'Very well. Suicides. Hell will not last for much longer.' Vvael said, 'What are Asmodai's plans?'

'I left Lamentation for a while, seeking you.' Suicides said, 'I couldn't feel my Lord's presence, he might be in trouble. But the last I heard, the hordes were preparing to harvest souls from the mortals.'

'Who would have thought of that? Three realms destroyed overnight.' Vvael shook his head.

'It's bound to happen, angel. Sooner or later. 'Offered Suicides, 'With the long absence of both our masters, tides are just waiting to turn.'

'What can I do you for?' Asked Vvael.

'You are in a poor shape, Vvael.' Observed Suicides, 'The Infernal Dragon thought you would know something helpful but judging by your demise, you are but another victim at your own blindness.'

'It's true, Zephr.' Agreed Vvael. 'I'm iron cast to this wheelchair and served no more value than a witness for things to fall. But if you could get me to the mind of Eilert Swane. I probably could do more.'

'You want to work The Fire Spirit from inside?' Asked Suicides.

'I need to know something from him.' Said Vvael, 'As I beginning to figure about his acquisition of those powers. Surely being one of the first fallen, you could sense it too?'



Divinity Courts of Counsel upon the Three Hundredth Candlelights.

Balthial, of Thrones granted an audience to a saved.

'Saul.' Said Balthial. 'You wanted to see me?'

'Great Balthial. Something is happening in the worlds beyond Heaven. Something terrible, is it not?' Asked Saul earnestly.

'This is not a subject for your concern, Saul.' Replied Balthial.

'Something terrible, Great Angel.' Saul pleaded, 'The Hasche Ocean was gone.'

Balthial was so preoccupied by her dilemma over invading Hell that she realised that she had neglected the welfare of Heaven. The Silver City being the impregnable fortress had taken for granted for a long time that it was thought it could never suffer from any corruptible fate.

Balthial step up a flight and saw that the geography of Heaven was irreversibly altered.

And something else was odd too.

The unfamiliar tranquility of The Silver City.

That was when Balthial, of Thrones realised that the Seraphims had stopped singing praises to God.

Balthial rushed to the sanctuary that held His empty throne. The sanctuary was long gone.



Cocytus - Throne Of Lamentation upon the Infinite Hours.

All was left was its screeching voice.

The scout with sunshine feathers and talons squawked uneasily, 'The! Calamity! The Calamity! The! Red! Lust! Beguiled! Our! Benefactor! Our Nation! Builder! Our Master! Caught! With! His! Eyes! Forever! Shut! The! Calamity! The! Calamity! Befall!'

The great hall of Lamentation laid the dead bodies of Purgatory legions, away with life, away with their shadows.

The wailing river of Cocytus was depleted.

Asmodai was nowhere to be found, though his foul blood stank the air.

All was left was the little abhorrence's screeching voice.

Trailing off into an unimaginable fate.



Nongchai Phromyothi

Nongchai never felt so motivated before.

With an archangel and an archdemon inside the suffocating hold of his mind, all he could felt was the pain of universes imploding one after another.

Nongchai knew he had better get to the Fire Spirit fast.

He had never felt so motivated to die.



Wall Of Gehenna - The Scavenger Peak Under The Three Suns upon the Infinite Hours.

The damned and cursed of the defeated fallen doomed to cast their bodies in Gehenna, embedding the Wall glistered with the blood of the angels that sacrificed in defending the stronghold that harbored the Fire Spirit.

And there were so much blood on animated damned.

Redemption.

Lucifer Morningstar once made a rule that no one was to revive the humiliated fallen at Gehenna. Stone cast and sunned forever.

But there was so much enemies' bloodshed on them.

Oh, the happiness those blood brought them. As if they had won the First War in Heaven.

As if they had won.

And someone broke Lucifer Morningstar's law.

Someone revived them.

One by one, the decayed fallen of the First War opened their crusted eyes and listened for the first time in the hundred thousand years.

The mountain of Gehenna trembled with their joints stretching.

The Wall moved.

Pancia and her champions were defending the Wall from aerial when the base of the Wall opened up and a wide mouth shot straight up and closed on them.

All the devoured angels saw were the endless corridors of teeth.

Gehenna quaked and the cursed fallen of the First War sprung away like wrathful ghouls and assailed the angels' defense from within.

After eating Panica and her champions, Asmodai revealed the whole of his scaly hide by worming out from the base of Gehenna. The giant Infernal Lord unfurled his mighty draconian wings of fourteen spans and screamed blizzards and hailstones.

Firestorm rained down on the hosts.

The exuberant fallen elites of the First War tore the angels apart.

Asmodai screamed until the hosts bled from their ears and he scooped down to devour some more.



Nongchai Phromyothi

Nongchai stared in horrific awe of the distant beast, so illustrious and murderous.

'What... exactly was that?' Nongchai muttered with spit in his mouth.

'Asmodai?' Vvael spoke in the sinner's head, 'He changed his mind?'

'No.' Suicides said, 'Look at his eyes. They are blind. He had been battling something else and they blinded him. A coup! They blinded him of reason and enraged him to instinct. Asmodai had submitted to his base bloodlust he worked so hard and long to overcome. Now he is a true creature.'

Suicides nudged Nongchai with more pains, 'Hurry, wretched one. You have to hurry for worlds' sake!'



Wall Of Gehenna - The Scavenger Peak Under The Three Suns upon the Infinite Hours.

Kepharel held his shield against Asmodai's firestorm and charged towards the Infernal's all consuming sun. Kepharel was determined to hold Asmodai back that he didn't realised that his two pairs of angelic wings were scorched in dire purple flames. Kepharel was thrown onto the basalt like a ragged doll, yet he kept charging the Serpent with blind vigor. He was so close. So close in securing Hell.

With a wicked swipe, the Infernal chewed off all Kepharel's wings.

Choking with blood, Kepharel rolled onto the dust, extinguishing the purple fire on him.

'You nefast.' Smiled Kepharel in his teeth full of blood and membrane. 'I got you corner, villain.'

The Fire Spirit had burnt more than ninety percentage of population of Hell.

It was enough to fold Hell.

Asmodai roared in rage and all beings the radius of his shadow covered, were crushed instantly.

All the Infernal could hear was the fairy's laughter.

Asmodai spread his draconian wings and sped to The Fire Steward.

The Chimarea of Accusing Lies collapsed into The Great Fire Angel.

Millions swords of lights exploded and everyone was blinkered by its blight.

In the back of their minds; be it sinners, angels or the demons, they heard Asmodai's last percipientation.

'I hath seen the greater plan. Oh! What terrible consequences of free will love-drunk with grandiosity and treason hearts against our destinies. Perhaps we're more base than Man themselves. And so let shame celebrate our existence! And, let sad shame peck the remains of our guilty corpses!'

Spit out by the crucifix of fire; enveloped in smoke and barrages, Asmodai reduced to his extrangled form from ten hundred thousand years ago when he was beautiful and had Seraphim wings.

Kepharel stood up holding his wounds. The Inferno was silent with the Infernal's heedless defeat, except for the crunching sounds made hollow by incinerating the sinners.

Kepharel raised his fist and thundered his victory, 'The nether realm is subdued! Hell is ours!'

The battle worn hosts cheered.


To be continued...

Afterworld Episode 7 -- Homeland Insecurity

99% of the population is missing. Technology is dead.