Deserted

The world is in a state of chaos after the Screechers release their hellish attacks and obliterate 1/3 of the worlds population.

Orphan Evander, ostracised from the world, as he holds the demonic sigil, that's slowly eating away at his soul and spirit. His past, unbeknownst to him from the age of 7 and young. His life's enigma, slowly but surely the pieces of the puzzle are restored.

He battles demons at night and hunger at day. A daily routine that is interrupted when a group called the Emortuus is recruiting him to battle against the Screechers, however there lay dark secrets, and many more monstrosities are yet to be revealed.

Is he willing to take the easier path of survival? Or live constantly on thin ice?

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"We are the Emortuus" he shouted "we will stand and fight!"
The crowd's dull eyes were now alight with a passionate fire, cheering and shouting in agreement.
His hard yet unflinching gaze sent a shiver down my spine as his piercing blue eyes scanned over the auditorium.
"For we have nothing left to lose" he rasped, balling his hands into a fist.
This only encouraged the crowd further as they erupted in cheers, chanting his name in unison.
Only moments later a blood curling screech was heard, silencing the area immediately. The mix of fear and dread filled everyone's eyes.
"They're here." he whispered.

(Highest Ranking #24 in Fantasy!)

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