Where do the dead belong in the world of the living if the living are already supposed to be dead? The year is 3137 A.D. Near peace has been established between the human and demons for nearly a millennium. However, that peace is deeply disturbed when the dead come back to the world of the living to judge those deemed sinful. In return, opening old wounds the world had chosen to forget.

Mystic Dark

“I need a shower,” I thought to myself. 


 I sat on the carpet still a sweating mess. My curly dark brown hair a sticky tangled mess that stuck to the skin of my forehead. The dugout now smelled of cleaning supplies as I had been scrubbing the blood that tarnished the carpet. 


 The blood was mostly gone. The only thing that remained was it’s smell. Strong. Pungent. Intoxicating. Yet, not as noticeable as before. 


I stand up, slowly . My arms now sore from scrubbing so hard. I let a sigh of relief as I admired my handy work. I rolled my eyes, slowly. 


 “If only I could have used magic to clean this up,” I grumble. 


 It was an entirely possible thing. An entirely illegal thing, also. Magic has been age restricted in Luna. An require a license to use. A license that I, Troya didn’t have because I was still considered to young. I was 22. The age requirement to use magic in Luna was 45 year of age. I wasn’t even close that yet. 


(Premonition) Troya