I suppose, if I'm going to be using this, or at least trying to, I should put something about myself here.
My name is Aella Fiachra. I am 32 years old,and of British decent. I lived in London for most of my early life, with my mother and father. The London that I lived in though isn't the London that I've learned is here in this place. The city that I knew had been torn apart by the very forces of Hell. Long before I was born, the Hellgate opened in the middle of the city. And as you might imagine, life took a rather hars nosedive from there.
By the time I was born, most of the city was in ruins, and the only few safe areas to live were around the outposts kept by the military. My family and I lived on the very edges of one of those outposts. Don't ask me why we didn't settle in closer. I have no idea. At any rate, life was as normal as it could be, considering the inherent dangers, until I was 16. That year the demons pushing from the Hellgate had been making stronger and stronger attacks. And our home on the edge of the safe zone finally fell under their claws. The memory is...very much a blur to me still. I remember screeching, Hounds and Imps, dozens of them, coming in through the windows and breaking the door down. I hid, in a closet I think, somewhere small and dark, while my parents were killed. I thought maybe the Imps and Hounds would leave once they were done with my parents, but one of the Hounds sniffed me out. I don't know how I got away. That whole moment is just one huge blur of sheer panic and pain. I got away though, somehow made it to the military outpost, my face and neck torn by an Imp's claw.
I was still just a child really, so I didn't know how bad things were I suppose. By the time I was recovered enough to move around, the only thing I wanted to do was get back at them, the demons. Normally the Chaon Military wouldn't take people in until they were at least 18, but they were desperate for soldiers I think, and took me in for training as soon as they could. I suppose I did all right, seeing as after a few years, they kept offering me promotions and higher ranks. I never wanted to move past Hellslayer though. Anything above that would have been a desk job, and that was the last thing I wanted.
When I was 29 I was partnered up with a man by the name of Nikolai Esaroth Raskolnikov, a transfer from a Russian outpost. I guess it was then that it really struck me that the Hellgate wasn't just in London. They were everywhere. I'd known this, but it hadn't really hit me until I heard Nik's stories. For three years we were partnered together. I was always a rank higher than him. He had problems with authority I guess, and talked back enough to get him knocked down a few pegs whenever he thought they'd given him too much of a promotion.
Anyway. The year I turned 32, Chaon Military and Dethtek Industries finally came up with what they though would be the killing blow to end the Hellgate menace finally. Darksoul armor. It worked through a combination of magic and technology, feeding on the death energy of dying demons to power it. The troup I was in was chosen for the beta-test run of it. Fear was the last thing on my mind. I was just so eager to finally go through that blasted gate, to give the demons a kick where it hurt the most.
Things never work out the right way though, and it went badly from the very start. It was supposed to be a 15 minute run, but ended up lasting hours. I lost Nik, I lost the rest of my troup, I lost myself. I don't know exactly what happened, but, well...here I am.
My living hell.