by A Feathered Dinosaur
The Apocalypse has begun in Lama. Reality is breaking apart at its seams, things that many would discredit as a hoax are appearing all over the place. Humanity can't catch a break between the fairies, the reptilians, the mutants, the ghosts, the aliens and whatever other weird variety of dangerous being that may appear. This story, however, is not about Humanity as they struggle to adapt to all the dangers that are destroying them and their human way of life, nor is it about the destruction of planet Lama, it is about an imp. Imps are the bottom rung of the no-gooders. The cannon fodder. The rocket fuel and its compartment. The Minions. Little child-sized freaks with bratty child-like attitudes, but at the same time the most malleable and useful workforce any demon can gather in droves. Because the gates of hell are open, every demonic entity is to go up there and conquer their own slice of the pie. The more they exist on the surface, the more they develop and promote into their next existence of servitude and suffering, the more souls they bring back to hell for the Devil to satisfy his whims the more respect they accrue in the twisted mockery of society that is Hell's. This is the story of an imp born in this world that got very unlucky, how it turns that around, and see what happens to this little fella in the chaos of the Apocalypse.
