In my early twenties, I dated a girl who leased a room from a stranger for a summer in Boston. In this stranger's room a single, solitary poster hung above a bed made up with black sheets. On it, a raging demon with gnarled horns clutched a mighty electric guitar in the shape of an axe in one cloven hand, and the decapitated head of an angel in the other. Below this demon was written, in font so gothic it could be its own Renaissance Faire, the following words:
"Christ-Defying, Angel-Slaying, Darkness-Bleeding, Soul-Destroying Heavy Fucking Metal."
If I was asked to explain to a stranger as succinctly as possible what Sierra Lima is all about it, I'd probably print them a copy of that poster. I'd tell them to go watch James Cameron's Aliens and Terminator. To pick a Mad Max movie at random and watch that, too. Then go drink a lot of whiskey - something gritty and American, like Jack Daniels or Wild Turkey - and binge watch horror movies until Church on Sunday, then shuffle into that Catholic sermon before sobriety could take its hold. And when all that was done, I'd tuck them into bed, with Iron Maiden played lovingly by their bedside like Mozart for a newborn babe. Whatever fever-pitched nightmare-dreams followed would almost certainly function as an alternative to this Meta page.
But since you probably don't want to that, and we're all biffles and have already gone through the trouble of getting Furiosa and Joan of Arc in the same room to do each other's nails and exchange exorcism recipes, let's talk about the world of Sierra Lima.
Stand aside or step beside, T.S. Elliot - here we roar.
Speaking as bluntly as possible, Sierra Lima is a post-apocalyptic action-thriller with an emphasis on horror, the paranormal, and fantastic legend. Its story is rooted in religious and supernatural myths from across the world, but especially those of Christianity. It is a world where demons wait, terrible and unknowable, in the shadows, and legions of angels scour the planet, burning all in their path with righteous fire. Wraiths and banshees lurk in the space between life and death. Trolls and giants terrorize the countryside, tearing through stripmalls and ramshackle settlements. US Marines armed with knives and bullets battle block-by-block against monsters that cannot bleed and know no fear. Werewolves howl under the full moon, bounding down Main Street with unchecked abandon.
The world is not at war. The war is over. It lasted like, two days.
While you're on that 80's movie binge, watch some Terminator. Just the first one, really, but then also the second 'cause it's definitely the best. Really immerse yourself in those scenes with the Resistance, in the future; beleaguered and desperate humans sacrificing everything in a losing war against machines. Now imagine instead of machines, it's every creature and idea that ever terrified you and gave you nightmares as a child; instead of the future, it's today; and it's all in your own backyard.
But then, Sierra Lima isn't about monsters. Not really. It's about those who spit in the face of monsters. This is a world where power metal blares in the background as mortal men and women find the courage to stand before callous gods and shrieking devils, and it is a story about defiance. Always defiance.
Set in contemporary California, the events of Sierra Lima take place as the Biblical apocalypse unfolds in real time. As darkness takes its hold over the Earth, our heroes – our survivors – stare down Rapture and the nightmares that come with it. Angels and demons stake their claim, as foretold in the Book of Revelation centuries ago. Vampires – blood-sucking abominations – feast on the weak. Eldritch phantoms tear through reality itself. And our heroes - our stupid, idiotic, too-dumb-to-just-give-up-already heroes, our madlad boys and girls from the sun-soaked streets of Los Angeles, all crusty and dirty and without a single solitary hope in the world, with their baseball bats and torn up jeans and insufferable pluck – stare into the fates and they bellow, screaming and indignant: No. Nope. Not today. Fuck you, Satan.
Sierra Lima is one long, sweet, nonstop electric power chord, and if you want your shit seriously rocked, then darling, take my hand and let's jump into this crazy, messed up mosh pit togegther. There's bats in the belfry, trolls in the dungeon, and I've got another quarter for the jukebnox. Hell's bells are a-ringin': it's ass-kicking time.