The Omniscrolls

Hunting and exorcising demons that wreaked havoc in the Mortal Realm was the sole duty of the demon hunters, a special class of human souls residing in the Higher Realms. For this purpose, they were granted powers equivalent to that of angels. Exorcising demons was a simple job once the targets were captured, however, a group of demon hunters began to doubt their abilities as one demon in particular proved to be immune to their procedures. The demon in question was no being of higher status in the Nether Realm, nor did he bear any special objects that repelled or negated the demon hunters’ holy powers, yet time and time again, he would slip through their grasp and escape, leaving many a demon hunter injured in his wake. As this elusive demon kept escaping captivity, the demon hunters began to question both themselves and the powers bestowed upon them. Seeing the seeds of doubt that were growing in their hearts, a group of angels took it upon themselves to capture the strange demon and ...

My twin sister Alesia was the epitome of kindness in my town and was considered a saint by the congregation. Priests and nuns labelled her an “angel” and encouraged her to be more selfless, regardless of the situation. It was as if their definition of an angel was the same as that of a doormat. However, at the same time, there were those envious of her who often called her “too good to be true”. They often mocked her as being fake. I hated both these sides; they only projected their own ideals at her and never took into account how she truly felt. But Alesia wasn’t the only one whom the town had divided views on: while she was the “angel”, I was the “demon”, the “witch”. Unlike Alesia, I would not allow people to walk all over me, and I certainly did not keep quiet about the indifferences many of us faced by the self-righteous zealots in the congregation. It was one of the many reasons why I stopped attending mass in my early teens. The clergy tried to have me return to church, but I r...

Since I was a child, I could easily read any living thing’s feelings and know their entire history just with a single touch. Humans, dogs, birds, and even trees—I felt everything they’ve ever experienced. It was both a blessing and a curse, for while there was so much joy, there was also an equal, if not more, amount of pain. When I first proved to my classmates that I had these abilities, most of them were amazed, however, a few classmates, and even a number of teachers, began to fear me and call me names. My mom forced me to stop talking about my abilities with others from that point on, but eventually, I came to be labelled a freak by most children at school, as well as by many people in our neighbourhood. Mom and I moved to a new town not long after, and there, I kept my secret to myself even after I graduated and joined the police force. My abilities allowed me to quickly rise through the ranks and become a detective. In the field, even though my abilities were a secret, people be...

I woke up to an odd text on my phone: “Don’t trust anyone, everything’s a lie.” It was from an unknown number, so I assumed it was a prank and got ready for school. When I went downstairs, however, my phone blinked again. “Don’t eat anything they give you.” I swiped the message and headed straight to the dining room. I found it odd that my younger brother, Alex, was already at the table; he was always ten minutes late. “Maybe everything is a lie,” I joked in my head. However, it was not long before I began to notice certain differences in the way my family went about with their routines. Dad was never one to allow phones at the table, but he was laughing with my brother over a prank video. And then there was Mom: although she didn’t act any different than other days, I saw her in the kitchen, writing something down on a piece of paper while on the phone with someone. Mom was left-handed, but she was writing with her right hand. I wondered if those prank texts actually bore some truth....

Trigger Warning: Suicide Henry was an introverted teen who struggled with self-esteem and standing up for himself while growing up. Towards his late teens, Henry took his own life because of bullying at school. Just before he passed on, however, he remembered standing in a grey world resembling earth; and before him stood a figure wearing a grey cloak, and with swirling grey patterns on their face and hands. She was holding a tall, wooden staff with a raven’s head carved into the top. “Who… Who are you.” “Death. I’m here to escort you, Henry.” Henry looked over to his side and noticed James, his only friend, clinging to his body in the bedroom. He wished things hadn’t turned out like this; seeing James’ muffled cries, he only hated himself all the more. “You may still have a chance,” Death said. “For what?” “To apologise.” Death took in a deep breath; her hands began to shake. Henry stepped forward. “What’s happening to you?” “It’s almost time, we must hurry.” Henry took one last look ...