In the darkness of the night, far far away was an old warehouse that had been abandoned for centuries. Inside laid the charred corpses of many people who had only the basic characteristics of humans.
Some with ears and tails, others with wings and peculiar skin tones; creatures of Hell they called them, but these unrecognizable masses of charcoal-colored flesh were shamans...specifically, worshippers of the infamous dark shaman, Alia.
From amongst them, only two showed signs of being alive. Sprawled off on the concrete that had long gone cold was a small, pale-skinned naked woman with hair darker than a moonless night.
Small whimpers left her slightly parted lips as she shivered; though the air had gotten incredibly chilly with the absence of the raging blue flames, Alia wasn't shivering from the cold...she was terribly afraid after all she's witnessed.
