The whole world waits for the gates of Hell to open; at least half of them wait on their knees, praying for it to be quick, praying to a god not even the dead can say exists.
I have done all I can to prepare. All I can do now is wait with the rest. I don't know if anyone will make it through, or if anyone will ever listen to this recording. I'm sure everyone's version of events will be different, but the end will most likely be the same for us all. They are everywhere now, strange variations of the basic demonic form-horns, talons, and teeth. They too are waiting for the transition, the next convergence.
My name is Emily. I am twenty-three years old, and I will probably not make it to twenty-four. I don't know what I'm hoping to achieve with this recording, if anything, but I have no one left to talk to, so you'll have to do.