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Butcher of Eden

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Prologue: The Trumpet's Call

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In a world where peace is taken for granted, danger often hides in plain sight. Humans, engrossed in their daily lives, have never suspected that another race lives among them—one that blends seamlessly into society but harbors a dark secret.

 

These beings, indistinguishable from humans, have coexisted for millennia, their presence unknown to all but a few. They look like us, speak like us, but they share a singular, chilling hunger: the taste of human flesh and they emit different pheromones from human.

 

For centuries, they’ve remained in the shadows, their influence subtle yet profound. They’ve thrived on discord, fanning the flames of conflict between nations, all while curbing human advancement.

 

Their existence was shrouded in mystery, whispered about only in ancient texts, long dismissed as myth.

 

Until the day it all changed.

 

Prophecies spoke of their coming, though we were too blind to see. In the Bible, it was written, but few paid heed to its warning:

 

"The first angel sounded his trumpet, and there came hail and fire mixed with blood, and it was hurled down on the earth. A third of the earth was burned up, a third of the trees were burned up, and all the green grass was burned up."

 

The sky itself tore open with a deafening sound, a trumpet's call heralding chaos. From the gaping rift, a rain of destruction poured down, striking at the core of humanity’s sources of food. Orchards withered, crops were reduced to ashes, and verdant pastures turned to wasteland.

 

The world faced an unprecedented famine.

 

Yet, even in the face of such calamity, unity eluded mankind. Instead of banding together, the powerful preyed on the weak.

 

Nations, driven by desperation, waged wars to seize dwindling resources, plunging the world into further turmoil. The invaders, those beings hidden amongst us, watched with satisfaction as their centuries-old plan came to fruition.

 

The second angel sounded his trumpet, and something like a huge mountain, all ablaze, was thrown into the sea. A third of the sea turned into blood, a third of the living creatures in the sea died, and a third of the ships were destroyed.

 

The sky cracked open again with a roar that shook the very foundations of the earth. The second trumpet blared. A blazing mass, like a colossal mountain set aflame, hurtled down from the heavens, crashing into the sea with a force that churned the waters into a blood-red tempest.

 

The sea, once a symbol of vast, unending life, turned into a graveyard. A third of the ocean’s creatures, from the smallest plankton to the mightiest whales, perished in an instant.

 

This cataclysm was not just a natural disaster but a calculated blow aimed at humanity’s lifeblood.

 

Panic gripped the world. Yet, with no clear enemy to blame for the cosmic assault, humans turned on each other. Accusations flew, and conflicts erupted as nations scrambled for resources, unaware of the unseen puppet masters orchestrating their downfall from the shadows.

 

Barely had the echoes of the second trumpet faded when the third trumpet sounded. From the torn sky, a star descended, blazing like a torch. Its name was Wormwood, and it fell upon the rivers and springs—the lifeblood of the earth.

 

The third angel sounded his trumpet, and a great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water— the name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter, and many people died from the waters that had become bitter.

 

The impact was not as violent as the sea’s devastation, but it carried a far more insidious threat. The waters turned bitter, poisoned. Rivers that had once quenched the thirst of millions now carried death in their currents. Desperation set in as people watched their once pure springs turn toxic.

 

As the fourth angel’s trumpet resounded, the very fabric of the sky seemed to shudder. A third of the sun, moon, and stars were struck, casting the world into an unnatural twilight.

 

Daylight waned, and night grew darker, as if the heavens themselves were exacting vengeance upon humanity.

 

The constant, reassuring rhythm of day and night was shattered. Darkness became an ever-present companion, amplifying the fear and uncertainty that already gripped the hearts of people everywhere. In this perpetual gloom, even the most devout believers began to question their faith, while the faithless found themselves praying for deliverance.

 

It came as a shock when the hidden enemy finally revealed themselves.

 

As foretold in ancient scriptures, a mighty force would come from a distant land, striking like an eagle, a nation with a language unknown and faces hard as stone. This prophecy unfolded before the bewildered eyes of mankind.

 

These beings had forged their own realm, untouched by the calamities plaguing the human world. Their sanctuary, a glittering paradise, stood in stark contrast to the earth's desolation.

 

But beneath its pristine surface lay a horrific truth. Humans were nothing more than livestock in this utopia, bred and traded for consumption. The old and the young, the weak and the vulnerable, were mere commodities to these creatures.

 

Despite their outward resemblance to humans, their hearts were cold, their actions monstrous. They had no qualms about their gruesome practices, treating human life with a casual cruelty that defied understanding.

 

And when the thousand years are ended, Satan will be released from his prison

 

Calder was a halfling, part human, part otherworldly being. Unlike his brethren, who thrived on the chaos they sowed, Calder had his own agenda.

 

Calder had lived among them, quietly biding his time, wearing a mask of loyalty while secretly chipping away at their strength. Calder was a predator among predators, a being whose bloodlust drove him to seek any excuse to kill.

 

He was no savior; he was a force of destruction. In his wake, both human and otherworldly enemies found themselves ensnared in a web of betrayal and carnage. No one is safe.

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