Imagine you are the one of the Damned. You are a person that, for whatever reason, made a deal with the devil and found yourself suffering in hell. After what seems like an eternity of suffering, what is left of your human soul is spat back out onto the Earth. Your human mind can’t comprehend all of the irrational and immense sights that you saw in hell, so your brain recoils and hides your experiences like a nightmare quickly being forgotten.
So you’re spat out of hell, back to Earth, and find that you’re no longer like a normal person. You are stronger, better looking, more intelligent, and even have powers that were a thousand times better than anything you would find in a book. Remember all of those guys who kicked sand in your face on the beach? You could throw them into the ocean with one hand. Remember all of the kats and kittens that didn’t want to cut a rug with you back at the social? Now they line up to wear your letter jacket. The world is ours for the taking, and it is good.
Then, like everything that is involved in hell, we find out there is a catch. We come to realize that we were sent back from hell with a shred of our human soul, because the truly demonic cannot walk the Earth. We find out that there’s something about ancient binding rules, agreements, and the powers that be. We find out that the truly demonic, the guys whose houses we swore allegiance to and got our powers from, sent us back to Earth to cause the literal end of days. Bummer, right?
The houses of the damned have these high muckety-mucks that are so much Demon, and so little person, that they cannot cross into the land of the living directly. Instead, they have us—the sort-of human damned that are supposed to act in their stead to cause enough suffering to bring about the end of the world. We are given directions to bring enough pain, anguish, and misery (whatever specialty our house focuses on) that when we gather the Aether from a wounded soul,some of the Aether gathers in the coffers of our dark masters. When our dark masters have enough Aether in their pool of souls, giant basalt gates will erupt from the earth and the doors to hell will swing open. Life on Earth will end, and hell will become a place on Earth.
At first, no one understood exactly how much Aether and suffering would be needed to bring about the gates, and we all fed like fat kids with cake on the world’s Aether. Aether, sort of like a portion of the soul, comes from those that we inflict ourselves on and gives us the powers of the damned. When we bring the suffering back to our font and gather the wounded souls’ nectar, a portion of the wounded soul is fed into the coffers of the dark lord of the demonic houses in hell.
We all assumed that the end of the world would be something that happened thousands of years from now—when the stars were right and the moon was washed in blood or some other crazy occult prophet nonsense. We thought it wouldn’t be until the year 2000, or even 2012, before we had to face the end of days. But in 1958 when the damned began to leak across to the world of the living and the sealed gates appeared, we knew that the end was very much nigh.
The world looked at us in horror and fear, knowing we were bringing about Armageddon, but the majority of us didn’t want the world to come to an end. We knew that if hell ruled on Earth then instead of being the coolest, strongest, and best looking people, we would return to being lower to middle management in hell.
They say it is better to rule in hell than serve in heaven, but the truth is that it is better to be a god among mankind instead of an ant among demons.