There were no names for what we saw leaping forth from the earth that day. Great flame-wreathed forms of ghouls and imps spewed from the ground as lava and pyroclastic slag pelted the trees and struck down those unlucky enough to be outside in that howling torrent of infernal denial of all that had been good. Many were possessed by those vile forms where they stood, their eyes glowing embers in the grey.

Some of us made it, though, battling our way through the steam as ponds and lakes became one with the sky, as the air itself singed flesh, as rivers of boiling blood gurgled through the buckling streets. It was a victory bought with much pain as we repulsed the hellborne hordes even as they still pullulated into our world. It felt like it would not ever end. But it did; we had summoned an archfiend greater than any even the demonic masses could command: capitalism.

They could not afford the rent anywhere.