by Caleb Smith
The dark spirits ascended into the air, and the cloud of dark energy was on its way to invade other innocent bodies. But Elijah and Enoch both were ready to jump into action, for this was not part of what was agreed upon. Furfur smiled and held his long sharp fingers together with delight.
As the free dark spirits flew at Noah, the boy almost welcomed their arrival. He was exhausted. But, his necklace light was still enough to divert the attack. As the spirits invaded his space, he stepped aside and sliced the smoke with his blade, chopping it into pieces. The smoke fell to the ground, burning in ashes. Yet, Noah’s back was now turned, and a whip came creeping up behind him.
“Noah, look out!” Wendy screamed.
It was too late, and Keeper was not in position to protect him. She too, had grown tired and weary from exerting energy. She needed to recharge. The whip lashed out and struck Noah on the back of the shoulder. The poison cut into his flesh, and he groaned, dropping his weapon. It was an injury that would not go away anytime soon. He picked up the blade with his opposite hand and rolled on, just missing another slashing attempt. He now faced Henry. The light shining at the minion made it difficult for him to aim. He swung and cracked the whip with no rhyme or reason. The poison was spreading in Noah’s skin, causing him to hallucinate. Furfur knew exactly what was happening and smiled widely once again. The boy looked at the ground and swatted away what he thought were bugs.
“Focus your mind,” Enoch shouted. “Your pain is not real, and your faith will heal.”
Noah tried to focus, but it was hard for him, both physically and mentally. The whipping man saw that the boy was vulnerable, and he took advantage, stepping closer. Through the bugs, Noah made out his combatant, as the whip extended toward him much like a serpent’s tongue. Noah thought quickly; he had only one chance to use his light to his advantage. He ducked under the woven, poisonous cord and rolled forward. When he came to a crouching knee with his light blinding the villain, he drew both arms back over his head with the sword clenched in both hands. He threw his arms forward, though the wound on his shoulder was agonizing, and gave the effort everything he had. He released the blade into the air, and it rotated over and over.
Time slowed, and Noah fell to the ground face first, the poison definitively invading his blood and organs. But in the moment before he hit the gravel, he watched the blade fly into his opponent’s chest and pierce through the other side. The sword burned its way through the body and trapped the energy, causing it to turn to ash.
“No!” Furfur yelled. “Release the dogs!” And they did.
The hounds charged toward Noah. Enoch and Elijah moved like lightening and intercepted the attack, slicing all four beasts to pieces. The twins then grew to twenty feet and stood over the boy in protection.
Elijah yelled, “Who’s next?”
The dog masters looked at Furfur for the answer. The cloaked demon hissed; “This is far from over for all of you. We will be back, and we will never stop. Do you hear me, boy? We’ll never stop.”
He then twisted down, as did the four others, into the earth’s crust.
Once their evil stench was clear from breathing nostrils, the twins returned to human size and catered to Noah. He was shaking, and his body was in shock. Enoch tore the back of the boy’s shirt where the slash had struck him. The skin was turning black and rotting quickly. Darkened veins were spreading across his back. Enoch placed his hand on the wound, and then Elijah placed his hand on top of Enoch’s. Wendy, Josh, and Keeper ran to the scene to see what was happening. Both of the angels’ hands lit up with bright light, drawing the poison from Noah’s back. After a few moments, the poison leaked out through Noah’s pores like intense sweat. Black beads of liquid streamed off, sizzling, dispersing, and then soaking into the ground. Elijah gathered the boy and cradled him in his arms.
“Will he be OK?” Wendy inquired with worried eyes.
“His body and system are in shock; he needs bed rest. But, he should wake in two days and feel fine.” Elijah replied.
“Well, where are you going to take him?”
Elijah looked down at her. “You are a persistent little one.”
Josh chuckled.
“Shut up Josh; at least some of us care.”
“No need for harsh words little one; everyone here now cares about the boy’s well-being. Please go inside and tell his mother that he will be home sleeping when she gets there and to let him rest. Can you handle this task, little one?”
“Yes sir. I think I can handle it. By the way, my name is Wendy Sherman, and this here is my older brother, Josh. And you are?”
Enoch looked at her, amused. “I would tell you, but by morning after a deep sleep, you will have forgotten. Focus on helping your father; he needs the both of you more than ever now.”
“OK.” She replied
“Yeah, I think we can handle that,” Josh added.
“Run along now, dear children, and we will see that Noah gets home safely.”
Wendy looked at them with skepticism, and she was surprisingly not freaking out about all that had unfolded in front of her face.
“OK, then, but I have a lot of questions that need to be answered, and I’m gonna need to talk to Noah because after all, we’re best friends. So, I will be over there when he wakes up so we can talk about what happened here.”
“Two days,” Enoch replied. “No less”
“OK, we got it,” Josh replied, as he moved his sister along toward the house. His parting words were simple and genuine. “I’m not sure about all of this here tonight, and what happened to me and my dad and Evelyn a few days ago, but I hope that’s the end of it. We all need a break.”
“You have nothing to fear; what’s done is done. This place is now cleansed of the darkness it once held. Stay close to the light and keep faith. You will be fine.”
“Yes, sir. I appreciate all your help here tonight. I’m not so sure we would have been as lucky if you two hadn’t arrived when you did.”
“You’re welcome. Now go – go to your father.”
Wendy and Josh walked off, leaving the twins and Noah alone. Still holding the youngster in his arms, Elijah faded out in the dark of night, leaving Enoch to follow.
Chapter 56
Furfur landed on hell’s floor with an awful feeling smothering his darkened soul. He had failed to do what he had proclaimed he would. He had even brought extra help to ensure that his endeavors would be successful, but his plan had backfired. The young duke should have moved more quickly on the boy. He had given him too much time, and within that time, he had become a beacon of hope for the greater dimensions. His want and desire to see the boy suffer had slowly smacked him back in the face. It left an awful taste in his mouth.
Landing on his feet with anger, Furfur immediately took his frustrations out on the other dog masters whom he had called to the surface. He was angered by the minions who had tucked tail when they could have attacked the twins. He was mostly upset over the fact that he hadn’t jumped into combat, but in order for this to have happened, he would have needed another Council member’s hand to help him tangle with the twins. He was distraught that he lacked the power and gumption to take the situation in hand and succeed in the eyes of his superiors. He had worked hard for his position, and it took lifetimes to get where he was.
The afterlife in hell was anything but reasonable. His elder counts would be fierce in deciding on retribution for his failure. They could drag him down to the hot pits and cavernous dwellings of misery. Furfur would have to rebound in relentless manner. But until then, he would have to endure scrutiny and severe infliction.
He landed in a sector that was a good distance away from the main factory floor and chamber quarters of his uppers. He needed time to think out his game plan and a way to present his misfortunes in an elegant manner. The power of the twins stained his mind. Replaying the scenes over and over, he watched them cut his appointed dogs to pieces in the matter of seconds. The trained hounds presented no
t even a hiccup of a match for the mighty brothers. This was the first combat experience he had had with the twins; he had never before witnessed them in action. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was impressed and rather jealous of their powers. Such powers he lacked. He had only heard the stories that the Creator had hand-picked them from the earth as humans and had transformed them into the mighty angels, Sandalphon and Metatron.
Furfur had never lived a human life; he was born an angel. Furfur had then sided with Satan, and thus was cast to the ranks of the underworld. Yet, he always wondered about the human experience. The truth was, no one really wanted to be in hell; everyone was just too proud to admit it. One would rather live with the notion of being free from rule, but no one was really free from anything. They were, instead, trapped from having a full life in higher dimensions and trapped from being free within themselves. It took some time after the great fall to realize this, but as the sands of time poured forth, it was evident.
The beasts that did most of Furfur’s callous bidding were two spirit energies from the Nephilim souls. He wished he could have used their full body souls for more power, especially when it came to the last assault. The boy would have fallen to that full fledged assault. The escaped spirit energies lacked their full force, as they were only energies formed in that short time span from when they had resided on the surface – unlike their souls, which were eternal. When the soul detaches from the physical dead, it either rises or falls. If it rises, then it will one day come back to live another life, unless the cycle of return is broken and the soul becomes a high master.
The boy was on the path to becoming a high master, and for the devil, this would pose a major problem. Once this was discovered, he would become a target so that he could not spread his teachings to others. But if he were transformed, he would become nearly untouchable to the hands of evil, for he would then control all laws on the third dimension and the physical life on the surface. And the surface was hell’s only stronghold. For the devil, it was imperative that no human transform into a rare being of the light. And, the failure to capture a potential master in his early trials of training was a pretty big deal. The only thing Furfur could hope for was that his upper Council peers did not know the immediate magnitude of his failures. He’d do what he would have to in order to hide any and all truths about Noah Thomas until he could get back to repair the damage.
Furfur mopped the hot brimstone floor with the fallen dog masters who had not attacked on his orders. He did this while contemplating all on his mind. When he finished mulling over his situation, he threw the last of the dog masters into a burping pit of lava. But even this gave him no pleasure. He sighed and began to think about how he would spin the story to come out ahead in the eyes of his elders.
He was certainly not in the mood for Zabo’s opinion. He’d rather not even have to face him, but a Council meeting was due, and his direct report would be heard by all who mattered in the underworld. He dreaded the thought of it, as he crept back toward the factory floor. He wondered if he should just crawl back up to the surface and start over. Then he thought about the repercussions of doing so, and his dark loyalty kept pushing him along. He would have to stand and give his full report. Perhaps he could speak to Amducaius first to better explain the situation, since he was Furfur’s senior advisor. Maybe he would find some understanding in Furfur’s downfall and help take a little weight off his shoulders. Either way, he would have to open up his mouth and speak the words of his failures, and that in itself was going to be hard enough.
The open factory floor arrived faster than he had wanted it to. His head was lowered, but he raised it high as he came into sight of the other slave souls grinding away. Their eyes were lost in misery and sadness. He could read their thoughts as they resided on all the horrible decisions they had made to lead them to their ultimate suffering, and how much they wished they could have gone back to do things differently. He knew this because he felt it too, though he would never admit it or show his hand. As the congregation of laborious torture grew, he spread his wings to fly above. If just for a few moments, he would demonstrate his superior abilities before being cut down by anger and dispute. At least the feeling of superiority, however fleeting, felt good.
He landed on the stone porch rail of Amducaius’s flat. His steps forward were slow and heavy. When he reached the open entrance, he could hear voices and laughter.
What did this louse do all day, anyway? Lie around like a king being pampered by demoness servants, and telling stories of old to his high guests?
If he had to hear about the battle before the fall one more time, he was going to vomit. Too many times he had wondered what the repercussions would be in mentioning Michael’s name – how he had stepped on his master’s head and drove it down beneath him before casting him down into hell. Anger now mired his thoughts. The only way to deliver was to fire himself up. He approached the main hall and sitting in the raised thrones were Amducaius, and to Furfur’s dismay Zabos. The only situation that could have been worse would have been if the whole Council were present for his humiliation.
His master, Satan himself, then entered the main room from a side curtain, two female demons draped across his muscular arms. His smile was atrocious. A putrid smell permeated the room. Everyone stopped and looked at Furfur, who still wore a black hood over his head.
“Furfur! Back already?” Amducaius bellowed. “Have you prevailed in such short time?”
Furfur was silent, as he fished for words. He slowly removed his hood and stared the devil in the eye for a few seconds before turning his thoughts into action. He began to tell his side of the story.
Chapter 57
He awoke in a fog. She was there, always there, nestled against his warm body, clumped and cuddled in like a fluffy cheese curl trapped tightly, mid-bag level. He pulled his hand from beneath the blanket and gently placed it on her back, letting the soft fur collect between his open fingers. She picked her head up and looked at him with astonished eyes, glad to see him alert again.
Not knowing the time, he leaned toward the covered window. The light looked dim, but that could be due to cloud cover, as well as time of day. Noah sat up, leaned forward and cracked the plastic blind to see what the day looked like. The light was waning; it must be evening, but he knew his sense of time was off. He next reached over to his nightstand where his watch was resting. With the wrist strap held tight in his grip, he peered at the digital numbers: 6:37 pm. He wondered how long he had been sleeping, but estimated that it had been a day or more.
Peeling himself out of bed and stretching, Noah put his feet on the wooden floor, the floorboards cracking when he stood. He reached for the chain around his neck; thank goodness it was still there. His sword, however, appeared to be nowhere on the scene. He crouched down and looked under his bed. Nothing.
Bits of his last waking experience started to slowly come back to him. He remembered the junkyard and the evil he had faced there, but there was no memory of the battle itself.
He thought, instead, about his mother and an uneasiness overtook him. He wasn’t sure of her well-being. Noah bolted out of his door and into the living area of the two-bedroom apartment. She was curled up on the couch with a wool blanket covering her legs, the TV playing low and tissues strewn about on the floor. Noah had the feeling that she had wept herself out of reality. He slowly walked over and sat at the other end of the couch, resting his hand on top of the blanket. Keeper had followed him and jumped on the couch, linking the two. Her quick movement must have woken Evelyn because she came to life with heavy eyes. It took a couple moments for her to realize that Noah was there, as she adjusted her receding glasses.
“Noah!” She said, instantly excited and reaching to embrace him.“Noah, I’m so happy you’re alive.” She began to weep. He could tell she was fragile.
“It’s OK, Mom; everything’s OK now.” He hoped it was, but really, he didn’t know. Noah remembered the twins being in plain sight at one point, s
o they must have ensured his safety, but that was all he could conjure at the moment.
After a long, drawn out hug, Evelyn let go and sat back, looking at her son with a smile engulfing her face.
“How long have I been out, anyway. I think I’ve lost all track of time.”
She laughed, “You have been out almost two days. How are you feeling?”
“I feel well rested?”
Evelyn chuckled again. “I bet you do, and you should. Do you remember anything that happened?”
“I recall being at the junkyard and seeing faces of evil. And I remember the twins, and Wendy and Josh being there, but not much after that. Do you know what happened?”
“I stayed with Earl in the house. You wanted to take care of the situation, and I believed that you could. So I listened to you and stayed inside.”
Noah pondered about it for a moment. Even that part was foggy. He didn’t recall saying that or seeing his mother before the junkyard. “If you say so, Mom. How is everyone at the ranch?”
“They are fine, sweetheart… just fine, thanks to you. You’re are a very brave boy, Noah. Wendy filled me in with every detail right after. She, too, had a hard time believing everything that had happened, but she knows that what she saw was true.”
“Oh, I see. Well, maybe you can fill me in, because I don’t seem to have a clue what happened! And, by the way, is Earl OK?”
“Do you remember being at the hospital with us and then driving the car back to the auto ranch?” Evelyn asked.
He thought for a moment. “I don’t, but I wish I did. Maybe you can help shed a little light on the subject?”
