Horrible things happen at night, when the moon is new and the sun has dipped below the horizon. Daemons emerge to terrify, rape, murder, and ruin the lives of countless souls caught in their path. The earth trembles in homage to the night's deviations, the forests covet them like lost treasures and civilization holds its breath in anticipation. Life ends in the night; worlds change and crumble, but all the world knows the fear of a night gone awry. Catastrophes unparalleled and unchallenged, however, happen only during the most pleasant of days.
A limp husk of tissue hung suspended from the splinters of what was once a table, now an obstacle laying in the street and covered in human remains--the rich oak cast from its usual home by violent force and very much against its owner's wishes. The sun, a forgotten visitor from happier times before The End, shone once more on this town ruin unimpeded by a single nimbus, its pure rays reflecting the taint of crimson now adorning the rubble and thatch. Death had come to this place too late, some other force beating him to his work and making a terrible mess of things.
A shape resolved from the deep shadows within the surrounding forest. Two legs paced drunkenly toward the town, confused and alone. A single black arm shot out from the central cylinder as it stumbled over a broken body, ten undefinable fingers sinking into congealed red upon the side of a fruit-vendor's stall. It walked deeper into the destruction, almost following the same path as the shadows before him which tore the place apart, but the strain was far too much. The human shadow made it nearly all the way from one end of the town to the other, trembling and collapsing before it could finish its route. A creaking breath leaked from the things lips before it curled in on itself and ceased moving forever, its destruction of the town complete. As its life faded away and the warmth left its body, so too did the pitch black which obscured the young man's features. Clothes resembling the same style as many of the other deceased townspeople emerged from the dark haze; facial features and blue eyes so clearly more like his mother's than his father's resolved from beneath the gloom. In truth he resembled neither now, each parent reduced to gory pulp in their modest home, done in by the hands of their crazed, now dead, son.
A similarly human-shaped darkness watched the boy die in silence from beneath the awning of a small shoppe, its carmine eyes smoldering in disapproval. She recorded everything in her mind, making a point to focus on every detail both physical and unseen, knowing the trial's failure would need to be picked apart if the next one was to succeed. Still, she sighed before turning around and disappearing into the thick noon air, murmuring to herself, "He's not going to be happy about this..."
((Uhm... just needed to write something. If anyone wants to like... rp anything relating to this or the next trial or something >.> go ahead and post, lol. <3))