Afterworld: Road to Redemption
Road to Redemption
Having grown up in a Devil worshipping cult with a head-priestess for a mother Jax hasn’t had the happiest childhood. He never got to choose his own fate as he was drawn into the dark teachings he had to follow. Chosen for greatness, Jax was offered like a sacrifical lamb to one of the Horsemen. Only he never wanted the honor of bringing misery and pain to the word. God help him, he never wished to be part of startig an apocalypse, Hell on Earth, destruction of immense magnitude.
There’s only so long he can run from his fate and no hiding from the demons. All he can do is hold onto his humanity long enough to find a cure. Fighting the evil within gets harder when he runs into Kate. There’s something about that woman that makes him loose control.
Blood Sacrifices and Demon Summonings? Great stuff.
Fucking fantastic. Dark and mysterious right from the get go. Reeling you in and poisoning your mind.
That’s all the sect ever did for me.
I had no choice. Lame excuse. Everyone says they had no choice. You always have options.
I hadn’t understood the reason behind all the chanting, hoodoo-voodoo bullshit. Too young, too stupid and too fucking blind. As if that changed anything. I kept on helping the cause until I realized what they were up to–by then, it was too late.
The blood sacrifices I could deal with. The Summoning I could cope with. Raping countless innocent women in the name of the Devil? Fuck. That.
~ From the pages of Jax Constantine’s Grimoire
Kate lost everything to the hellborn virus. She would have lost herself, too had Hank not saved her from the raging desire for revenge. Together with the German Shepherd she fights for survival until one day staying on the sidelines is not an option any longer. When an angel comes to her rescue a hope for a better future gets rekindled.
And when she meets Jax, she starts to believe that perhaps loving someone else is possible, too.
When The World Ended
My grandmother believed in God. As a devout Christian, she did everything in her power to guide me in her footsteps.
The bible. Mass. Penance.
I practiced it all.
Well, at age fifteen, when that unseeable, mysterious force couldn’t save my parents, I decided religion was a farce. A crutch. Something people held onto when they had nothing else left to believe in. No force existed out there listening to our prayers, watching over us with love and good intentions.
Religion was for the weak, for those who couldn’t cut it on their own.
Now, nearly two decades later, I’ve come to understand how wrong I was.
But believing in something is not the same as having faith in it.
God exists. He just doesn’t give a fuck about us.
~ From the pages of Kate Jone’s Journal, 2032
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