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

 Yelling. Screaming…… Noise. The one thing I hate the most is the silence I have being disrupted by the cacophony of sound from others. The blaring of insignificant creatures that only see nothing but themselves. Creatures that won’t leave me alone. 


 I don’t recall how long I have been strapped in here. Time is immeasurable as I fade in and out of consciousness. I don’t know where I am. Nor, do I know why I am here. However, I do know that my time here grows short as the patience of my captures grows even shorter. 


 Good. Kill me. Get it over with. I didn’t want to be here anyways. The fact that they disturbed my sleep in the first place just to wake me up to torture me was already exhausting as it was. Now; however, their desperation was growing. I could smell it in their blood. Feel it in their movements. Something was wrong. They were running out of time and so was I. 


Let Us Begin (The Count)