“Yes, sir.”
Temeculus drew his sword and sliced Goth’s human body in half at the waist. A shriek pierced the foul air and echoed off the horrid chamber walls. The two halves hit the ground in a red splash. Lord Goth morphed to his true form.
Temeculus kicked the lower half. The bloody mess hit the balcony. The general pointed his sword at Goth’s neck. “Goth, never come back here alive after you fight an angel. You kill them.”
Goth’s mouth moved in silence. His hands made spirals in the spilled filth from his sliced body. “Yes, general.”
Temeculus knelt on powerful haunches, tapped his sword blade against Goth’s neck thick with muscle. “She’s a tiny woman. You should be ashamed.” He rose and walked back to the table covered with General Wells’s live flesh. The demons regrouped around the table. “Put yourself back together, Goth. I need you.”
“Yes, master.” Goth crawled towards his severed half. The muscled legs kicked on the balcony as if in a full run. With his arms, he scampered forward. His intestines trailed bloody ropes along the black floor until he reached the balcony and positioned himself next to his detached half. He clenched his teeth in pain and reformed.
Temeculus snapped his sword. Lord Goth’s blood splattered the floor. He replaced his hellish blade into its sheath. “Also, Goth. Lick my floor clean before you bring your ugly face over here.” He stroked Wells’s head with one hand. “Be quick you bastard.”
“Yes, general.”
General Temeculus grunted as Lord Goth’s long black tongue slid from his mouth to lap the blood and filth from the floor. He turned to his captains. “The angel Joan entered the fight and she will not be working alone.” He balled his hands into solid fists as his hell-born officers poured over General Wells’s stretched flesh.
Temeculus surmised God decided to protect his little pets. Neither he nor Satan expected this to happen.
Temeculus rubbed his strong chin and gazed about his war room heavy with shadows. “Death, Hate, War Monger, and Blood Lust. Come to me.”
The darkened shadows within the war room shifted. Four shadows pulled away from the corners and floated to Temeculus. The dark apparitions blurred as they glided to a stop before the general.
“Find the president and kill him.” The Four Shadows drifted over the bone rail balcony and floated out into the gloom in silence. He followed his four assassins with red eyes. Temeculus swept his hand and dismissed his officers who faded back into the cathedral’s gloom.
The general lost so much after his expulsion from Heaven. Replacing those centuries old memories would be impossible. God delivered his final blow to Satan, a move to silence the disgruntled and reestablish His power. He flooded the earth and killed everyone except Noah and his family.
This made the angels rebel. To insult the angelic beings further, one child escaped the floods on earth. A child fathered by an angel. Moreover, this angel still lived and remained a secret except to God and Satan.
Temeculus slid his horrific blade from its scabbard and walked out to the balcony. He glared at the dark skies and roared. The soldiers below paused in their hellish endeavors as their master’s thunderous voice faded into the smoky haze over Los Angeles.
Temeculus sheathed his blade. He hated God. The Creator refused to spare their families so long ago. He figured the dissention in Heaven hurt Jehovah’s pride. Therefore, He killed all their families. He killed every man, woman, and child born to the angels. Those who sided with Lucifer and who remained loyal to Jehovah suffered. Temeculus sought revenge and planned to achieve his goal no matter how many souls he sent to Hell. First, he needed to find the Key.
23
Daisy Lane reached Japan. Below her Tokyo gleamed like a multicolored crystal in the fresh morning sky. Tokyo streets sat jammed with cars and people. No doubt the battle in California reached them hours ago.
Hell came to earth a little too early, like a stillborn child. Satan’s angels proved themselves a dangerous handful.
Daisy raced her way towards a beautiful mountain with its pristine snowcap. A white mist gathered at its base like an embroidered tunic laced with crystals. Mt. Fuji sat before her powerful and majestic with sheer drops painted cobalt blue.
Daisy continued to the mountain. The cold did not bother her, yet the brisk wind brushed against her skin with its sharp bite. She approach the jagged snow powdered clefts. The crater on the mountain’s flank from a long ago eruption verified her location.
Daisy called out Okura’s name as she drifted on the crisp air. Her feathers fluttered against a strong breeze. Her eyes surveyed the mountainside. She called out again, her voice echoed against stone. She floated around the colossal mountain. Her wings pushed her on until she came to a thick dark forest and a snow-covered field near a pristine blue lake. She sensed a presence tug away from her. Quick, but not quick enough to escape her angelic senses unleashed from their sleep.
Daisy landed on an area powdered in virgin snow with rocks scattered everywhere. She withdrew her wings and stood as she would stand in battle. Her axes sat sheathed at her sides, her silver armor decorated with the Judea Lion gleamed from the sun and white snow.
“Okura.” She eased forward. Snow crunched underneath her sandal-covered feet. A light brown deer lifted its head from the frozen ground, chewing on a tuft of brown grass before bounding off towards the forest. Evergreen trees sat against the mountain, huge trunks lay across moss-covered ground. “Okura, where are you?”
She turned her head and spotted several white monkeys scatter from a field near the entrance to a cave. A few vanished into the dark forest. Others scampered up a nearby tree. Daisy approached the cave. “Okura, come out and talk to me.”
“Why?”
“Do you understand why I’m here, Okura?” She paused at the cave entrance and peered into its dark mouth. Soft snow fell from a ledge above her.
His voice rolled from the cave. “I built a loving family and now they will die.”
“What makes you think your family will die, Okura? The other angels will suffer the same as you. This is your calling.”
“My wife does not believe in God. She believes in peace and love, but not God, not the way Christians think of Him.”
“This is not about Christianity, this is about saving souls and the Eternal Kingdom. What we are facing far outweighs man’s concept of God. God cultivated His own image.”
The six white snow monkeys who earlier darted up the tree came down to sit near the cave as if to listen in on the conversation. They rested on their haunches and did what monkeys do. Scratched and picked at each other, their wide black eyes vacant, their tiny pink faces turned up to sniff the cold air. She shoved an alarmed thought aside.
“Let’s talk in person about this, Okura.” she said.
“She told me, Daisy. Coming home from work this voice started speaking in my head. I got off the train and ran home. She told me about what happened in Los Angeles, and said this war would affect us all. She told me to remember my vow. The scariest thing is I do remember, Daisy.”
Okura exited the cave dressed in white Samurai armor. He held his white helmet tucked underneath his left arm. Two swords sheathed in white scabbards sat at his waist. A short wakizashi tucked in his belt, and a long katana at his left side. A golden eagle emblem sat embossed on his chest plate.
His hair, long and white, spread over his armored shoulders. His black eyes searched Daisy’s face. He took another bare footed step forward and gave the snow monkeys on the side a dismissive glance. He faced Daisy. “I will lose my family.”
“You won’t lose your family. I might lose my husband, but I think things will work out for the better. So, Joan told you what happened?”
Okura’s breath escaped his mouth in white puffs. “She told me. She said the entire world is threatened. Are other angels here on earth besides us?”
“A few, our job though, is to protect the gate.” Daisy extended a hand covered in a silver armored glove. “A
re you okay with this?”
Okura ambled down the short hill and took Daisy’s hand. He gave her hand a firm shake and released his grip. “No I’m not. I found out about my armor after she…Joan told me how to change.” He ran his fingers along the golden eagle carved into the armor on his chest.
“Be ready to use your skills, Okura.” Daisy said.
Okura nodded. “The people in Tokyo are afraid. Their thoughts about gods and demons are real now.”
“Yea, the entire planet is in an uproar.” Daisy spotted one particular snow monkey drift off from the others.
The little beast tapped a vicious nailed toe against a fallen tree trunk as if impatient. Every tap dug deeper into the dry bark and sent wood chips to the snow. The monkey’s eyes glittered with a sinister darkness she found unnatural.
“We better get going, Okura.”
“Where to, Daisy Lane?”
“As we head to Washington, D.C. I’ll tell you.”
Okura kept a careful eye on the monkey separated from the rest. Its thin lips, set in a bright pink face, turned downward in a scowl. “These snow monkeys don’t belong here. Doesn’t this creep you out? This is Aokigahara Forest, Daisy. A haunted forest.”
Daisy turned and headed down the hill. “This is my first time in Japan, Okura. Now let’s go.”
Her sandaled feet stamped over the white snow. Okura stayed at her side. His left hand rested on his katana’s gold embroidered hilt.
“What did you tell your family, Okura?”
Okura sighed, shook his head. “I told them my company is sending me on a business trip to Europe.”
The monkey stood and began to walk upright and follow the two angels. The primate wobbled like a toddler and grew in size by the second.
“Something is wrong, Daisy.”
Daisy kept her head forward. She fingered the multicolored jeweled handle on one axe. A round silver shield embossed with a lion’s head appeared in her left hand. A tingle slid along her arms. “Like what?”
“Like, Saru is getting bigger.”
Daisy shouted and spun to her left. She slipped an axe from its loop. Her heart quickened as the beast transformed before her.
Saru let out a lion’s roar. The real primates scattered from the low snow-crusted branches. The beast grew into a nine-foot horror. Large razor claws extended from its feet and hands. The monster dropped to all fours. The horror from Hell opened its huge mouth lined with ferocious fangs and roared again.
Okura drew his sword with his right hand and ran ahead with the blade drawn back. The monkey backhanded the angel with one bear sized paw. Okura hurtled away toward a snowy hill and plowed into the white powder.
Daisy bounded forward and plunged her axe into the beast’s muscled shoulder. Sulfur perfumed its powerful body with a stench strong enough to gag the angel. Her nose stung and her green eyes watered.
The monkey’s mouth yawned open. Foul breath hit her face. Thick saliva splashed her skin like death’s nectar. Daisy dropped her shield, drew her other axe, and drove the blade deep into Saru’s chest. The demon seized her shoulders with both paws and bore down its razor claws into her arms. Daisy let out a scream, fought through the incredible pain, and withdrew her axes.
Daisy yanked her body from the demon, dropped, and landed. Blood ran in rivulets down her biceps, pouring over the silver greaves around her forearms. She reached up and struck its face with an axe. The blade plunged deep and crunched against bone.
Crimson sprayed against its white fur covered face. Daisy stumbled away from the monstrosity. She circled the beast and tried to find a spot on Saru to deliver a final blow.
The demon moved fast, reaching forward to grab her left arm with its right paw. The demon yanked her forward like an abusive parent. The beast lifted her into the air and shook her. Pain crashed into her left shoulder.
Daisy lifted her right axe and hacked off the monkey’s right arm. The furry appendage hit the snow. She landed on her feet and chopped her fearsome weapon into the thing’s chest. The beast grunted, reached out with its left paw, grabbed her arm and gave her another powerful shake.
Fire flashed in her left arm. She soared through the air for a few seconds and crashed into a hill covered in snow. Daisy blinked her eyes. Light headed and sick, she lifted her face from the cold snow. Her right hand still gripped her axe. A bloody stump remained where Saru ripped her left arm from the socket.
Okura emerged from the deep snow. He found a stronger grip on his blade and attacked again. He sprinted forward, leaped into the air, and drove his blade into the monkey’s wide back. Saru reared up, arched its back in pain and howled. Okura gripped his sword tighter and held on. The beast spun and bucked to free himself of the angel.
Okura yelled. He withdrew his sword, executed a back flip and landed a safe distance from the enraged beast. He swallowed deep breaths as Saru stumbled around in confusion. Blood soaked its once white fur to a dark crimson. Okura dashed forward, leaped up, drew back his katana and sliced off the monster’s nightmarish head with one smooth stroke. The decapitated head rolled several feet across the snow.
Headless, the body took two full steps and plowed chest first into the snow.
Daisy assessed the bloody stump on her shoulder. A phantom pain throbbed where her left arm once sat. She struggled to her feet and stumbled toward the fallen monster. Blood dappled the snow like fallen cherry blossoms. Her detached arm sat inches from the monster’s large paw. With her right hand, she retrieved her arm and placed the appendage against the stump.
Within seconds, bone, muscle, and flesh reattached. Her left hand fingers rubbed against the jewels embedded in the axe handle. The once intense pain vanished. The demon’s body shriveled to its former size.
Okura rushed over to Daisy. “Are you okay?”
Daisy Lane replaced her axe in its loop and made a fist. Satisfied she drew the axe again and swung the blade around to test her arm. “My God. We can almost lose everything else…”
“…except our heads. Was that monster a demon?”
“A spy.” She turned back to gaze at the beautiful forest coated in white powder and the ground around them soaked in dark red blood. “Let’s get back, Okura. And I’ll talk more on the way.”
Daisy winked at Okura. Her wings outstretched behind her. She floated upwards and sped away. Okura deployed his wings from his back and took to the air right behind the angel.
24
President Raymond Wallace ordered all his essential government members and their families into the fortress forty stories beneath the White House. The bunker started out as a presidential fallout shelter in the sixties. Over the years engineers expanded the place into an underground city with a three hundred family limit.
Raymond didn’t believe the Los Angeles incident until Lord Goth appeared on the White House lawn. What amazed him further, and sickened him with fear: the short brown-skinned woman who emerged from the crowd to defeat the monster.
Earlier Raymond talked with Joan, a lengthy talk about angels and demons, his soul and humanity. He went into his private room with her to view the short five-minute fight between her and Goth over forty times. He became hungry and decided to eat lunch. Joan declined his invitation.
He sat at his small private table located in the cafeteria packed with people. He shooed away his two security staff to be alone to drink his black coffee and eat his turkey sandwich. People milled about. Conversations rose, utensils clinked against plates. He tried to relax. He forced himself to calm his mind. As President of the United States, he needed to act with decisiveness.
Wallace grunted to himself. He found no problem fighting terrorists, and every other idiot foolish enough to take on the United States. Yet he froze once the supernatural leaped on his front porch. How does one fight such horrors as huge and terrible as this?
He read the Bible often and pondered the many secrets hidden within its pages and prayed every day. Through all his knowledge, he never imagined Hell as r
eal. He assumed Hell a place created to coerce those into compliance who did not obey God’s law. A simple threat or a punishment not meant to instill fear, but obedience. His talk with Joan an hour ago made clear to him and as real as the thin gray hair on his head, Hell and Satan did exist.
Raymond faced the real horrors once locked in the underworld. He believed in their existence, and now the country would believe without an unequivocal doubt.
Raymond Wallace spent the afternoon with his Bible. He talked to his priest and discussed secrets in the Bible man hoped God wanted them to comprehend. Nowhere in their conversation did Mexico City or Denver, Colorado come up. Nor, did he find the two cities mentioned, out right, or in some cryptic speech mixed with symbolism and poetry. He faced a mystery he found too difficult to penetrate.
One question perplexed him. Why now? He figured the attack concerned more than the back gate hidden within the crags and clefts near the Rockies. God, he figured, kept another secret as He always did. A secret meant for Him alone.
Wallace finished off his sandwich and drained his cup. He glanced down into the bottom at the last dregs and dark grounds. The hairs along his neck stiffened. He glanced up. People still ate, musical laughter from a few children drifted towards him. A chill ran down his back like a black spider.
A dark splotch flitted near his right eye. He turned and stared at his shadow on the floor. He ignored the shadow, yet a weird otherness hunched over him. The air thickened with an unseen presence. He shook his head, blinked his eyes as a shadow moved near his left eye at the cusp.
Wallace sat up like an alert prairie dog. His stomach became queasy. He trusted his inner alarm. Across the cafeteria a little girl with red hair stared beyond him. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened.
She pulled on her mother’s sleeve and pointed in his direction. The mother smiled at Wallace, her mouth dropped open. She stood and screamed.
Wallace spun around in his chair. Four shadows raced along the walls headed right at him. He bolted from his chair. Shouts and screams rose in the packed cafeteria. Chairs struck the floor, tables slid, and glass crashed.
Angels of War (Angels of War Trilogy Book 1) Page 10
