The Abyss (Unfinished)

The Abyss1

By Travis Weston2

It's been 5 years since the demons took over, I was 20 when it happened, when the earth opened up and the demons escaped. I lived in L.A., though there are no longer countries, or cities. Nothing is left except for a few colonies that have survived by fighting the demons.3

My name is Samuel Riviera, when I was younger I was a writer, this is my recordings of what has happened so far, for the demons are not dead--far from it--they are flourishing, growing stronger as we wait, doing nothing but trying to survive. I am the head of a resistence effort in, what used to be called, the state of Maine.4

I have friends here, though it is hard to have friends in a time like this. I remember a very good friend I had a few years ago. We had been friends for months, fighting together, side by side. But, then, one day a demon attack happened and he was killed. I watched him die, watched the demons rip him appart like he was nothing but dead meat, which I guess he must have been to them. They eat the humans, they eat the animals, they eat each other.5

That is when I moved myself to Maine. Most of my resistence efforts have been accomplished, but not without a fair share of casualties. Every person knows they may not live to see tomorrow, but it still isn't anarchy yet. No, people around here still have their dignity, and they still fight. I have seen only 4 or 5 people lay down their weapons and decide to stop fighting, and out of thouse, 3 of them decided to pick their weapons up again. I was one such person.6

In these last 5 years I have killed unnumberable demons. I have also seen too many of my friends die in front of my eyes, it has made me hard and old before my time. I have seen more killing so far in my life then most GI's would see in their entire campaign at war. It hurts me deep to know that we may not win this fight, that the humans that die cannot return to help their fighting families. It takes too long for our young to grow strong, and with our supplies so low--because of the constant burning of our fields, and murder of our cattle--we cannot bring our young up as strong as we would like, so our troops are slowly growing weaker in an attempt to improve the health of our young.7

I, myself, have a young child. He's only 3 years old, and he's lucky to be alive after what happened to his mother. A demon attack was underway, and his mother became in labor in the middle of the fight. The birth went fine, but his mother didn't live. She was murdered by a demon during the birth. The demon that killed her was killed by me, I wear is skin as armor now. 8

I know what you think when I say demons, hell, religion, things like that. Well, your right. The demons opened the doorway to hell and stepped into our world. I was there when it happened. The doorway--one of the many--was in the San Francisco Bay, I was driving across the Golden Gate Bridge when the doorway opened. I had made it to the very end of the bridge, and felt an earthquake start; being from California all my life, I wasn't scared, I knew I had to get off of the bridge though. So I slammed on the gas, and drove onto the ground, and away from the bridge. That's when I heard it. It was a high pitched sound, sort of like an out of tune dog whistle. I got out of my car and ran back to where I could watch what was happening from a safe distance. What I saw shocked me to the very core. The very center of the bridge had dissapeared into a boiling, red, sulfury smelling bay, and the rest of it was on it's way. Cars and people were falling into the boiling water, I could hear their screams even from the distance I was at. And then I saw it. It was horrible, it's skin was as black as coal and mangled. Where a face on a human would have been there was nothing but black. It had the form of an old, fat, human male, but it didn't walk. It floated 5 inches off the ground. It wore nothing but tattered brown clothing that looked as if they had been badly burned. And what shocked me the most was--even after coming out of the San Francisco Bay--it wasn't wet. It's clothing wasn't even damp. I watched it as it floated across the water, and then I ran. I ran because more of them had come out of the boiling water.9

Five years later and I'm still alive.10

TO BE CONTINUED....11