<i>(Note: Before continuing a thread, please read the notes on the story.)</i>
God quit on us. For whatever reason, he'd had enough, and decided to send the world to Hell, starting with this town. No surprise; read the Old Testament, it's his M.O. At least Sodom and Gomorrah did the crime first.
Everybody on the outside of the Holy Grid knows what happened in here, in Narville. They don't call it Narville anymore; it's called Lilith City now, ever since the demons took it over and the military walled it off from the untainted world. I've heard Rand McNally and ADC already took it off their new maps.
The Lilith Strain started here, and when they couldn't figure out how to stop it, they made sure it ended here. It took almost three hundred priests, five hundred construction workers, and nearly a million dollars to set up the blessed wall that contains everything Lilith City used to be. It was doused with holy water and blessed with prayers to keep the demons inside. Should they try to fly over, automated sentry guns track them and blast away from reserve tanks full of holy water. Everybody calls it the Holy Grid. We call it a death sentence.
They left us here to rot with the demons. If they couldn't be cured, they figured they'd keep 'em in. They still flourished for a while, turned more humans into their kind.
Then, they started running out of soul food. We humans began hiding, fighting back in some cases. And the demons got hungry. The ones that stayed alive preyed on each other. Most of 'em went feral, like horny rabid dogs. The few that stayed sane and healthy isolated themselves. I've even heard of one demon that uses humans like we used money, trading live human souls for loyalty and power. If that's not capitalism, I don't know what is.
Which brings us to us. There're six of us, trying to stay alive and human long enough to find a way out of Lilith City. I really could care less if the fatigue-wearin' fuckers shot me two steps across the zone, at least I'd die on semi-hallowed ground.
My name's Marlowe, by the way. I was a police officer in this town. Now, I'm just trying to live. I still keep my badge, though no one really pays attention to it anymore. Maybe it's just a fetter, or whatever they call it; just a reminder that I'm still human, that I still think and feel like one.
We've got an interesting crew, to say the least. Grease is our resident tech-head, a mechanic and electrician with enough of his namesake in his ponytail to lube a fleet of Cadillacs. He's rough and metal-headed and half the time, he smells like an old oil derrick. On the other hand, he's saved our collective asses and rigged up comfortable living more than once.
April claims to have some kind of mystical connection with the demons, and I don't trust her for just that reason. I don't like blondes, either, and that's just icing. She worked in a New Age shop before everything hit, and most of the time, she's meditating or (when she can get them) waving incense and crystals around. Some of the others buy her supposed magic and sixth sense; personally, I'm about ready to put large amounts of hot lead in her noggin.
Baxter wouldn't have survived without us, in my opinion. He's a physical waste, a big black roll of flesh behind thick glasses and spaghetti-thin black hair. Plus, he's too damn curious about all this. Demons are everywhere, highly infectious demons at that, and he's always trying to find samples of blood or tissues or...fluids. He's convinced he can rig up a cure, or at least a vaccination, given the right time and equipment. I have to admire his determination, but frankly, it's a fool's dream. If the government couldn't do it, what makes him think he'll have better luck?
Ivy is Baxter's sister, and quite frankly, she's the only reason I haven't left the dork to rot. She's a brown-sugar knockout, so long-legged and raven-haired and big-breasted, I almost mistook her for a succubus the first time I saw her. If it wasn't for the fact she was firing a gun instead of slashing and biting, I'd have shot her dead. As it turns out, she was an executive in town, presumably the sole survivor when her building was overrun. (By "survivor," I mean she wasn't turned into a demon, like every other employee and visitor.) She'd been getting by on martial arts, sheer brainpower, and love for Baxter when we found her.
Then there's Kaede. Japanese, primarily, with some mixed European in him. He's got this real sullen demeanor about him. From what April tells me, since she's the only one he really talks to aside from basic survival, he was a student at Narville University. He blew the Lecture Hall with a homemade pipe bomb to keep the spread down. In the process, he ended up killing his brother and his girlfriend. April claims he was planning to enter the priesthood before then. If that's true, at least he's smart enough to not start up with me about it.
Last but not least is Theresa. She ran the downtown library before everything happened. The mythology knowledge jammed inside her head is kinda mixed; some of it's been useful, most of it's gone right out the window. Still, she's shown some skill at translating demonic lettering, thus keeping out fat out of the fire. Physically, she's not really my type: Her brown hair's long but unstylish, sweet brown eyes are stuck behind thick reading glasses, and whatever body she has is well concealed behind a very conservative dress and blouse. She keeps to herself, mostly, and I can tell she's a lot more frightened than she'll let on. Join the club.
We've got a real simple strategy, when everyone follows it. Every day, unless it's overcast, we relocate and try edging closer to the Holy Grid. We also score supplies and such when we can. We're in locked shelter by nightfall, and we guard in twos while the rest sleep. The slightest ruckus, and we wake everyone up and bail. So far, it's worked for fourteen days and nights.
The way the city is now, progress is real slow. Lots of streets are flooded out from debris clogging up drainage. Roadblocks and wrecks and still-burning fires are everywhere, and what isn't blocked that way, demons and their blood leftovers make passage too risky.
It's getting rough, and I don't know how much longer we can last. Baxter and Ivy want to get back to their family on the outside, and Kaede seems to just want peace. Grease doesn't talk much about it, and fuck only knows what April wants.
Me? I'd like to spit in Satan's face. Then, I'll do the same to God, for leaving us like this.