by Katrina Cope
The crowd is still moving along, mostly oblivious to what is going on around them and completely unaware that demons surround them. I teleport to the other side of the demon attacking Michael and swipe my ax across its neck as it reaches toward him again and sends another black pulse his way. At the same time, its palm lands on the woman beneath and sends her into convulsions.
The demon falls to the ground in the same instant a shriek fills the air from behind us.
I search for the cause of the bloodcurdling scream and find the first woman, who has fallen to the possessed man's side. The man's position has changed, and he bends over the top of her and pushes her back to the ground, his fingers around her throat. The woman's face is full of confusion as her loved one, the one she mourned for, presses his hand hard against her trachea. Terror fills her eyes, and rightfully so. The man reaches around, picks up a rock, then holds it high, preparing to bring it down on her head, but I rush him and slice his neck in the nick of time.
He expels a silent scream from his mouth as his head topples to the side, and the woman's eyes widen as she searches for my invisible form. She scrambles to her knees and knocks over his body. Confusion is still in her eyes as she contemplates how the man that she loved tried to kill her only moments before and is now lying on the ground, decapitated. Terror replaces confusion as she bellows out another scream.
A cry echoes not far from the crowd. I turn to see Michael charging toward another man, who cradles a young boy in his arms. The boy twists out of the man's arms and stands, clasps a rock in his hand, and readies himself to bring it down on the man's head as he kneels on the ground.
Michael charges at the boy then clasps him around the waist, not wanting to kill a child. His sapphire-blue eyes fill with torment while he decides what to do. The father remains kneeling on the ground, his arms outstretched and his mouth open as he watches the boy dangle in the air. He calls to the boy, observing hopelessly as determination and bloodlust stare back at him from the boy's eyes. Another scream sounds from the group, and Michael turns to them. More people fall, and demons hover over them. We have to get back to that group.
I run past him while he still clutches the boy. “I'll get them! Concentrate on the boy. Clear his possession and set him with another conscience before he commits a crime he will not recover from. We can't kill a child.”
For a moment, Michael’s eyes flood with relief, only to be muddied with torment seconds later. “But a new conscience set by me would kill him in the end anyway. You do it.” His eyes plead with me.
He’s right. His insertion of a conscience often ends up killing people with either mental anguish or guilt. At least this victim is a young boy, and he may not suffer as badly as an adult. His chance of survival following the insertion of the conscience after such a short period of transition might be higher. Still, I can tell that Michael doesn’t want to risk using his power. My conscience insertion, on the other hand, doesn’t usually send people into an emotional abyss that ultimately leads to suicide.
I observe the boy’s tormented, angry face, unnatural for his age. “All right. I'll do it. You get to the crowd. We must stop the demons.”
He nods once, thrusts the boy into my embrace, and rushes into the crowd, his sword ready to be unleashed. He flies a short distance then lands on the other side of a demon and slices its head off, setting off another spray of black blood. I hope for one moment that Michael will be safe without me by his side. I have to hold on to the trust. I don’t have a choice. He is a great warrior—I'm just his bodyguard, an extra for protection, his right-hand warrior.
I turn my attention back to the boy's black eyes. They’re full of evil, which is hard to comprehend in someone so young. Clasping his back, I place a hand on his forehead and send white light into him. I watch the boy's memories flash before me. He has many sweet ones, but his intentions flip after the demon possesses him and resets them to thirst after his father's murder. His anger boils for the rest of his family and longs for their deaths to follow. Yet, hope still lingers. After he pictures his family's death, no other evil intentions play out. It hasn't been too long, and these intentions haven't come to pass.
As I inject my angelic light into him, inserting a new conscience, I watch as his dazed eyes clear, hoping the boy will live past his thirst to obliterate his family and manage to live a long and happy life. When all signs of evil leave his eyes, I release him to his father and run to help Michael.
From the sidelines, a woman screams and runs toward the boy, her sight line switching from the man's face to the boy’s. She clasps them in her arms, the confusion failing to die. She grasps her husband's hand and pulls him to stand. That’s the last I see as I run toward the crowd, swinging my ax and taking down several more demons.
Once the majority of the demons are defeated, the other demons pause, noticing what’s going on and halting their pursuit of the humans for a moment. The torment on their faces is evident. The demons have to obey their master, or they face certain death. But before them is another threat, certain death by an angel. After a moment’s pause, it seems that their sense of self-protection wins over their bloodlust for humans, at least for a moment. They must know that they can gather another group of humans if these get away. They turn from the humans and focus their attention on us.
Black pulses fly in our direction. One is aimed straight at Michael, and I deflect it with the end of my ax. It bounces back, hits a human, and causes him to fall to the ground, groaning in pain. Singed marks cover his skin and body as the human looks confused while searching for the cause. The humans surrounding him dive to the ground and try to help him, unsure what is happening. They search frantically, looking for the culprit as if there is a further threat. The guilt churns in my stomach. I caused that panic.
More black pulses fly our way, and the ones I can't dodge, I deflect with the end of the ax. Some bounce back and hit the demons, but instead of hurting them, the pulses seem to charge their bodies with extra strength. I teleport to a spot behind some demons and slice one down the spine. It doesn't kill it, and a guilty pleasure fills me as it cries out in pain. I probably shouldn't, but I can't help feeling that every single one of them deserves it after what they caused. Only seconds pass before I end it by cutting off its head. It falls to the ground.
Following my lead, Michael teleports to the other side, surprises the demons from behind, and slices off their heads. The other demons turn, expelling bloodcurdling screams when they spot us behind them. They then turn to attack. Each time, we teleport to the other side and slice them down from behind. Slowly, we cut our way to diminished numbers until finally the last one is slain.
After the last one falls and the black blood stops shooting to the sky, we move through the crowds of people. Several people lie dead in the street as the ones who were possessed earlier begin to attack others. With daggers and knives in hand, they are slicing and chasing people down the road. One by one, we capture these people and set consciences into their brains. Now, we are in control of the situation. We don't harm the humans unless we have no other way.
I can tell by his body language that Michael is unsure about his insertion of the consciences and what it could do to them later. Because of this, we work as a team. We capture the humans together, and he allows me to insert the consciences.
The hair prickles at the back of my neck, and I grow wary, searching the background for the reappearance of the gatekeeper.
I don’t see him come. It’s strange. He usually returns with another wave of demons, either to attack us or to pursue the humans. But today, he doesn't come. Even in his absence, I still have the feeling that he’s watching us. I don't know what this little man is up to. We've come across him several times over his lifespan, and we can never quite work him out. In one sense, he seems to be on his own agenda, but in another, he appears to be following his master's.
- Chapter Ten -
Our golden breastplates gleam under the demonic black blood, and
Michael embraces me around the shoulder, undeterred by the mess. The demons are defeated, and we’ve inserted new consciences into the possessed. “Thank you for coming, my brother. I appreciate it. I wouldn't have known how to do it without you.”
Pride expands my chest. I know pride isn't a good thing, but I receive compliments from Michael well. He could have chosen any of the other angels, yet he picked me. “I'm glad you called me. Life is rather mellow on the farm with the family.”
“Isn't much happening in your area?” He squeezes my shoulder before he lets go.
I shake my head. “It has been very quiet.”
“Is there anything to report?”
“No, other than the child still seems strange.” My forehead tightens as I think. “And strange things happen in her room at night.”
“What kind of strange things?” He directly faces me.
“Dolls will dance for a while then slump angrily in the corner. At the same time, there is a flame that burns on a wick that never seems to grow shorter. Then, at times, the wick dances happily but suddenly changes into an angry flicker. The curtains do the same sort of thing. At times they sit still, looking placid, and other times, the material flicks aggressively, hitting against the windowpane.” I watch his face, lined in thought as I explain the situation.
“And what of the girl?” he asks. “What is she doing?”
“She is much the same. Her face is peaceful when the doll dances, so much so that she almost wears a smile. When the items in her room look angry, her face screws up as though in torment or anger. I'm not quite sure. I can't see her eyes.”
“Is she awake?” Deep lines run horizontally across his forehead.
“No. She is sleeping during these times. I don't know what it is. I can't place my finger on it. I can't sense any presence in the room other than the girl and myself. There doesn't seem to be any demonic power, nor do I see humans visit the farm. The parents have no friends—or they don't want any friends, which is why they moved to such an isolated area in the first place.”
“That is strange. Are those the only things that seem odd so far?”
I pace a few steps before answering, clasping my hands behind my back under my wings. “Yes. Other than the parents.”
“What do you mean?”
“They are overprotective, more than any other parents I have come across. I found out they aren't the birth parents. I haven't been able to spend much one-on-one time with the girl because the father is way too overprotective. Everyone is classed as suspicious, especially when they mention or approach the girl.” I pause my pacing. “Although I think I'm starting to make some headway. During our last conversation, he seemed to be opening up. I told him a little about what happens in her room at night. I didn't tell him that I had been in there watching her. He would probably kick me off the farm if he knew that. But I did tell him about the strange noises I hear coming from in there. He seems strange about it, only slightly curious. He said he'd watch over her.”
“Did he?”
I purse my lips. “The next night was my first night after I moved out of the house. I went to her window and watched from outside. I couldn't see him, so I turned invisible and stayed inside the room. The same thing happened, yet Piers didn't come. I was surprised because he is so overprotective, and he said that he would watch her.”
“Did you say anything to him?”
I shake my head. “I didn't have a chance. This is what I was doing when I heard you call me. I left her because I couldn't sense anything evil happening, and it happened every night of the week I was there.”
Michael rubs his chin with his palm. “That is strange. It is not something I've heard of before. Would it be possible there were witches around?”
My jaw drops. “Witches?”
“Yes, witches.” He studies my reaction with amusement in his eyes even though his face is serious. “They are rare but not unheard of. They are often hiding, keeping themselves well hidden so humans can't find them. Humans regard them with much suspicion. It's not surprising, considering they have powers and some use them against everyday people. Yet they look like humans.”
I am surprised by this information. It is as though Michael has known about them for a long time and hasn't enlightened me. I hide my surprise from his gaze. “Would witches have an essence about them hindering us from sensing them?”
“I haven't stumbled across any witches yet. I have only heard of them. Most live a tranquil life. Occasionally, one stands out. I did deal with a troublemaker once. I could not feel an essence, no. I think she was affected by demons. She had a slight demonic stench to her. I could be wrong. You said this girl's family are not her real family?”
“Yes, that's what the father told me. He said the girl belonged to his best friend. He begged Piers to look after her on his dying breath.”
Michael crosses his arms and strokes a thumb over the bulge of his muscles on his upper arm, his face deep in thought. “Interesting. Are you sure she isn't from anywhere?”
“Anywhere, as in somewhere other than France?” I ask. “By the way the father speaks, she is definitely from France.”
“Perhaps her real family has enemies. If the father is overprotective of her, and she is not his real daughter, he must know about these enemies. That is all I can think of at the moment, anyway. In any case, remain and check on her regularly. I don't know how long this mission will last, but it is an important one. It is why I have sent you. This is not an ordinary single-demon attack of removing consciences, where the person goes ballistic and slaughters people. This is just about the little girl and her protection. There is something about her. I just wish I knew what.” He embraces my shoulders again, squeezing them hard. Our wings rub against each other behind us. “It was nice to see you again, brother. I am sure I will see you again soon. Keep in contact with me about the girl and how you are doing.”
“I will. I was wondering why you sent me on this mission. Now I realize that this is different and more important than many others. I am privileged. Naturally, I will serve well.”
“Of course you will. I always have faith in you. That's why you received the mission.” He releases me, and I teleport back to the farm.
- Chapter Eleven -
I arrive at the farm just before the sun comes over the horizon. I wasn't gone long. The battle went relatively quickly with Michael and me fighting together, and I was called away in the middle of the night, rendering the family none the wiser about my disappearance.
Quickly, I check on Ava. Everything with Ava remains just as before with the doll, the flame and the curtains continuing with their display. It’s such a weird thing to happen, and it continues to leave me puzzled.
I return to my room in the barn, and not long afterward, Piers comes to my door. He hands me some bread and fruit, our usual breakfast before we start for the day.
“Today, we’re going to plow to the wheat field. Then we will gather the wheat for sale,” he says by way of a greeting. “Caitline won't be able to help us, as she is busy working with Ava, preparing our food for storage in the barn.”
I eat my meager breakfast as we approach the field. It's a long, tedious task to reap the whole field of wheat after battling demons during the night. It's a good thing I'm an angel with the equivalent of unlimited human strength.
When lunchtime comes, we go to the house and eat a simple meal. Light chatter fills the room. I catch Ava's eye and smirk at her, quickly averting my eyes so her parents won’t suspect me of anything. This happens a few times, so to make it less awkward and because I want to show the parents that they can trust me, I start a conversation with her.
“So, Miss Ava. What've you been up to today?”
She runs a hand through her long blond hair. Her face clearly shows that she likes the attention from someone other than her parents. “I've been helping Mama prepare the food for storage.”
“I bet you've been showing her how it should be done.” I smirk at her,
and she grins.
“Mama says I do a few things wrong and that I need to pay more attention, but I think it’s Mama who gets it wrong.”
A groan of disapproval sounds from Caitline, and Ava finds this funny. “See, she knows I'm right. She just won't admit it.”
“I'm sure you have all the expertise of a ten-year-old.” I wink at her and take another mouthful of food.
As we finish eating, Ava looks at her father.
“Papa.”
“Yes, Ava?”
“I want to take Zacharias for a walk.”
“I don't know, Ava. We have a lot of work to do.”
She pouts. “It won't take long. I promise.”
Piers studies Ava's pleading face, and I watch as the strictness strips away. “I guess we did it quickly, and we're making good time with the field. I suppose I can spare him for a bit. Why do you even want him to go with you?”
“I need him to help me with the chickens and feed the pigs. There’s a lot of food over there.” She indicates two large buckets in the corner. “I could use some strong muscles to help me and cut my workload down.”
His shoulders sag with defeat. “Okay. It wouldn't hurt for him to know how to feed the chickens. Don't take too long, though.” A slight warning laces his voice.
Ava jumps to her feet and clasps my hand. My hand engulfs her tiny one. She's so small. I oblige willingly when she pulls me to my feet. I'm lost as to why she wants me to come with her. Even so, I've finally earned enough trust from her parents to spend some time with her. Being able to spend more time with her rather than being far away from her in the fields will make my job to protect her easier.
