Summary: They are children carrying guns and praying to gods they don't believe in. Apocalypse AU

Warning: A decent amount of gore and violence in this drabble. OOC!Rin. You have been warned.

Chapter 4- Armageddon

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One day, the world ended.

The earth split apart, torn asunder by coils of blue flames. Most thought that would be the end of it. That the flames would swallow everything and everyone, burn until nothing but smoldering ash remained. But slowly, the flames receded, revealing a crater the size of a small country. Dotted in monstrous eyes and cackling heads, the Gehenna Gate roared to life in its horrific, frankenstein way.

At first, the area surrounding the Gate (the part of the city that hadn't fallen into it) was put on lock-down; the crater, as it had looked to those not in the immediate area, was releasing some sort of contagion that caused hallucinations. The people screamed of monsters with devil-tails, winged beasts the size of skyscrapers, and mythical dragons. A disease of madness, some said.

Their words were lost in the sudden deaths of thousands, when people appeared to be strung up on telephone poles, innards trailing down sunny suburban sidewalks. Some were half-eaten, limbs twisted in impossible angles across seemingly earthquake-hit areas. Storms of dust blanketed towns, revealing nightmarish beasts that clawed through windows and barricades with meter-long talons and crimson eyes.

The 'disease' spread until the whole world could see the monsters. It was then that the flames revealed the true monster. A beast that burned everything in its path; the first of the humanoid demons.

The Vatican stepped in soon after the beast's reveal. Giving a name to the monsters (demons— fitting, in a way) and calling the disaster the beginning of Armageddon, civilians were rushed to shelters across the exorcist Order. Then, the real exorcists were called.

They are children carrying guns and praying to gods they don't believe in.

Thrust into turmoil, the children hold to their sutras and incantations as hard as they grip the semi-automatic rifles in their hands. At least the beasts are no longer invisible— a month after the Gehenna Gate appeared and the whole world could see the monsters.

Each group of demons was led by their leader. The King of Earth, Amaimon, led his army of hobgoblins and earth-spirits with a sadistic glee, cutting through villages and towns. There was no order or plan in his attacks— merely unbridled chaos at the claws of an apathetic looking monster with enough blood on his hands to fill an ocean. The earth shifted under his pointed feet, the tectonic plates shifting together in horrible seizures of power that caused buildings to topple, trees to split in half, and drop people into the horrible magma depths of the world.

The King of Time and Space marched at a charming tune, leading his army with a chuckle. He could slaughter half the world in seconds— or have them suffer for millenniums, given his mood. Unlike his brother, Samael barely had a spot of blood on him. His white jester suit remained pristine, unwrinkled and without a single thread out of place.

Combined with the power of Lucifer, the King of Light, who brought plagues of angels upon the land, bursts of light that could swallow an entire continent (but the kings are nothing if patient—besides, what fun is a war without a little build up?), the exorcists stood little chance. Not including the other kings, which shifted between the Gate with less fanfare and carnage, and Assiah seemed like a hopeless cause. A cause to be swept away by smoldering cobalt flames.

Yet they held onto their hopes, however fruitless, that their world could be saved. Even when the leader of them all, a bright-eyed youth with dark hair and a smile that at first glance seemed almost friendly— until it twisted into the haughtiest sneer a human face could give, stepped out of the Gate in a sea of flames.

"Ya know, I didn't think war would be this fun!"

She's running. The forest is dark and winding, but with the sudden bursts of blue around her, she knows she's stepped into a landmine. Other exorcists cry out in the blackness of night, bodies illuminated for a brief, fleeting moment until the heat of the flames burn them to ash. The blonde presses on, even when she sees a familiar pair of red glasses, cracked and bloodied beside a burnt body.

Away from the light. Away from the flames. Her mind chants even as she trips, summoning paper falling from the pocket of her shirt. She scrambles for the paper in the dark, knowing that even the briefest of mistakes could mean the end. Her greenman familiar, who squeaked frantically behind her, tugged at her blonde locks. A wall of flames approached, quick and deadly in their approach. The trees turned to blackened sticks, cracking with a thunderous roar as she scrambled to her feet.

"Now, now, what do we have here?" A chilling voice mocked, a flash of cobalt just missing her arm. Shiemi ran faster, ducking under branches until the forest rolls away, leaving a burning field. The wall of flame is nowhere in sight.

The monster is in the clearing, a katana glowing with flames in his hand. She turns to dart back into the pseudo-safety of the forest but the beast is beside her, bright eyes shining with glee.

"What's your name, tamer?" He questions, plucking the greenman from her hair. The little familiar struggles in the demon's grasp until it burns in flames, ash billowing in the breeze.

Stay strong. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry—

The tears feel as hot as flames as the girl breaks down, falling to her feet. Memories of a time before the Gate, when she sat in her grandmother's garden, tending to the flowers with joy swim past her emerald orbs. But those times are long gone— gone with the innocence in her eyes. She has survived this long— longer than any thought she would.

Longer than she should have.

"Well?" The demon questions again, a surprising calmness in his voice. She wishes it was more barbaric, harsher, something that didn't sound like a friendly hum. Something that didn't make her think they could have been friends in another time, another world.

So Shiemi shakes her head, fighting the tears again. She wouldn't die crying— she'd be strong like Izumo, like Bon, like the red-headed exorcist who died protecting them from a wall of flames made by the same detestable monster in front of her.

The demon sneers, waltzing away with a languid yawn. "Okay, Miss Tamer. I'll just ask your friends. I should get my answer then, right?"

She doesn't get to respond before he is gone, a blur of cobalt flames against the suffocating darkness. In it, the girl is unable to rise to her feet.

He brings the bodies back like a housecat with a dead rat in its mouth.

Izumo is beheaded, crimson eyes forever etched wide with fear. Bon is cut in half, a clean slice that leaves bits of burning flesh to drip from his torso. Shima has his mouth wretched open, gutted from the inside like a pig. Takara, who Shiemi had only known in passing, had his eyes gouged out, one eyeball in the demon's outstretched hand like a present. And then there is Yuki-chan, the bespectacled exorcist who taught them all how to use weapons and recite prayers and—

He looks the most peaceful of the group, eyes closed, hands folded at his chest. If it wasn't for the blood that traced his mouth she could almost pretend he was just sleeping.

"He was fun. I burned his organs from the inside. He gave the best dying screams I've ever heard." The blue-eyed monster comments, dropping all the bodies at her feet. He takes another step forward, pressing a clawed hand to the blonde's chin in an almost tender gesture. She shivers.

"Goodbye, Shiemi Moriyama." There is a grin on his face and his tail flicks happily in the ash-ridden breeze as he thrusts a hand into her chest and removes her heart.

They are children carrying guns and praying to gods they don't believe in— and they couldn't stop the apocalypse.

A/N: So this turned out gorier and more depressing than I thought it would. Hope this was an interesting drabble, at least!

Review?

-Isis