The Complete Book Of Fallen Angels

by Valmore Daniels

  “Move again, and I’ll let you suffocate,” he threatened.

  It took both Eric and William to get me up on top of the table. With my hands bound in front of me, I knew any amount of fighting would be useless; especially against their supernatural powers. We were at their mercy.

  “What are you going to do to us?” I said.

  A short distance away, Tomko answered. “Detective Hollingsworth, we are meting out justice. You murdered my parents, and now you will pay for that crime with your life. Your death will not be for nothing. Your blood sacrifice will help us complete our end of the bargain to bring the remaining Brethren to the world.”

  “How?” I couldn’t understand what he meant.

  He approached us, a smile on his face. “It’s all connected; don’t you get that yet? You see, when you were in the company of Father Putnam and the traitor, they ran tests on you. Both of you—” He nodded at Alders. “—are of the bloodline.”

  That came as a complete shock.

  At first, I didn’t believe it. No, I couldn’t be like one of them!

  Then I realized the truth of it. Those who had the genetic trait naturally gravitated to one another. For the past year, I had been tracking down those who had been taken over by Grigori; all the while, I could have been possessed and become the very thing I’d been hunting.

  Another thought hit me like a punch in the gut. Putnam knew it, and had given me the vial filled with the compound. He’d obviously hoped I would be infected along with whomever I used it on. Earlier, I had been horrified about contracting whatever virus he and Brigson had used as a delivery system; the reality was I had been closer to a gruesome death than I’d feared.

  Then another realization sunk in: Alders had the trait as well? I looked at her, my eyes wide, and she stared back at me.

  I recalled the ritual that Rogers had described. “You’re going to summon a Grigori into her by killing me?”

  “You’re close, Detective. Yes, you will be a sacrifice, but not for a Grigori. It is necessary to complete the bargain.”

  “Bargain—?”

  “Only a third of our Brethren have been permitted out of the Abyss to secure our position in this world. Only once we’ve performed one last task will the remaining two-thirds be allowed to cross.”

  Be allowed…? That meant someone or something was holding them hostage.

  Over at the pews, Yates blurted out, “Abaddon! You’re going to summon Abaddon, the angel of darkness, guardian of the Abyss…”

  He added in a hoarse voice, “…the Destroyer!”

  Chapter Thirty

  And the earth shall be cleansed from all defilement, and from all sin, and from all punishment, and from all torment, and I will never again send them upon it from generation to generation and forever.

  –Book of Enoch 10:22

  “He will bring eternal darkness to the world,” Yates cried out.

  William hurried over to the computer hacker and, with a motion of his hand, sucked the air from his lungs. “Shut your mouth.”

  Yates tried to gasp, but he couldn’t.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Rogers barked out. “Let him breathe.”

  Just at the point Yates was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, William—with a snide smile—gave him his breath back. He motioned to Eric. “If he speaks again, shoot him with a million volts.” Then he made his way back to the altar.

  “Why?” I asked, staring at Tomko. “Why would you let Abaddon out if he will destroy us? I thought Grigori were supposed to love humanity?”

  It was Sariel who answered. “I have communed with the spirit of Abaddon; he is not an angel of hell, but of heaven; his work is for a divine purpose. He will be more effective here on earth, and will be able to cull the corruption from humanity all at once. Then, when there are only pure and good humans left in the world, the Grigori will rule them. We will all exist in perfect peace and harmony.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The fallen angels must have messed with their hosts’ minds. They were all mad.

  There was no reasoning with them.

  “Let Alders go,” I said. “She’s innocent; she’s done nothing to you. There’s no need to sacrifice her.”

  “Sacrifice her?” Tomko said. “I wouldn’t think of it. Alders will become the host to Abaddon. It’s fitting, after all: we are both orphans—because of you. It is right that we will become the two most powerful entities in the world. Together, we’ll remake society the way it should be.”

  For the first time since being brought to the altar, Alders shouted out. “No! I don’t want to be host to any kind of evil. I would rather die than become like you.”

  She kicked her feet, trying to flip over, but William put a hand on her chest and held her down. She continued struggling.

  Sariel looked over at Tomko. “Time is running out.”

  “Very well,” Tomko said, and gestured to William.

  He made a motion at Alders’ throat. She began to choke. A few moments later, she went still.

  William felt for a pulse. “She’s alive,” he said. “Just unconscious.”

  Tomko nodded at Putnam. “Begin the ritual, priest.”

  When Putnam didn’t react right away, Anton put his hand on the back of his neck. “You heard the man: start talking, or start screaming.”

  Putnam began to speak in the language Rogers had called Aramaic. At first, the priest seemed reluctant to recite the words. As he spoke, his voice rose in pitch and volume. Soon, he was deep within the thrall of the ancient prayer.

  I turned my head to look at Anderson and the others. They were watching with horror, but could do nothing. Three of them had their spirits bound, and all four of them were physically bound. Eric stood behind them, ready in case they tried anything.

  Putnam’s voice reached a new height as the ritual continued.

  Sariel drew a long sacrificial knife out from the folds of his black robe and thrust the handle at Putnam. The priest grasped it with both hands and raised it high over his head.

  Suddenly, his words switched from Aramaic to English.

  “Abaddon, angel of darkness, I bid thee come forth from the Abyss and take this host whom we offer for your use. I entreat thee to cross over and become of the earth.”

  Before Putnam could complete the ritual, I saw all the Grigori suddenly tense up. I felt the hackles on the back of my neck rise, wondering what was happening. Was the ritual not working? Was it backfiring and affecting them?

  Then, one of the large, stained-glass windows along the side of the church burst inward; shards of glass scattered all over the floor.

  Everyone turned toward the noise.

  Richard Riley crashed through and, with a roar, shot a blast of air at Putnam, knocking him back from the altar and all the way into the apse.

  William tried to catch the priest, but just missed; he overbalanced and stumbled to the ground.

  Sariel shouted something just as Riley shot a rush of wind under him, sending him flying a dozen feet up in the air. When Riley stopped the flow, Sariel came crashing down, striking his head on the edge of the altar.

  I rolled out of the way, but still felt the altar vibrate from the impact.

  On my side, I saw Eric race over to help in the fight against Riley.

  Yates took advantage of the distraction. He twisted his arms at the wrists, crying out as the plastic ties bit into his skin.

  Chase shouted something at him, and instead of twisting, Yates struck his bound wrists down on his knee hard enough to snap the plastic, though the action made the ties cut through the skin on his wrists. He yowled, but quickly regained control of himself.

  Free, he reached over and broke the necklaces binding Anderson, Rogers, and Chase. They jumped to their feet, ready to do battle.

  Eric, halfway between the two groups, stopped, undecided which way to turn. When he saw Rogers put up her water shield, he hurled a bolt of electricity at her.

  Chase roared and
dove at her, knocking her out of the way before she was electrocuted.

  Anderson flicked a stream of fire at Eric, engulfing the Grigori’s arm in flame.

  Back on our side of the fight, Tomko charged Riley.

  Though Riley blasted a torrent of air at Tomko, the Bellator continued forward, impervious to the supernatural attack.

  Swinging his fist at Riley, who ducked back out of the way, Tomko quickly followed through with a kick to the abdomen.

  Riley fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. Tomko knelt down and threw a crushing punch to his head.

  William got back to his feet and ran to help Eric, slapping at his arm to try to smother the flames. At the same time, he motioned toward Anderson and her eyes bulged as her lungs were emptied of air. A moment later, her entire body began to turn blue as all the oxygen in her body dissipated.

  She tried to summon another fireball, but the spark would not ignite. Without using her body’s oxygen, her ability to create fire would not work; furthermore, if she didn’t get air soon, she was going to die.

  Chase, still on the ground after knocking Rogers out of the way, got up and lunged at Anderson, grabbing her leg. A moment later, Anderson arched her back and sucked in a lungful of air.

  I noticed movement near me. Father Putnam was getting to his feet slowly. His eyes were unfocused as he looked around to try to get his bearings.

  Putnam seemed to take forever to come back over to us, but soon enough, he stood over Alders and me again.

  Someone screamed, and I twisted around. Rogers had gotten back up and shot a fine stream of water at William, blasting him in the face. That interrupted his concentration, and Anderson instantly started gasping for breath.

  “Let me take them out,” Rogers growled, but it was apparent she wasn’t going to wait for Chase’s approval—as if he would give her the go-ahead in any event.

  She began to reach her hand out toward William and Eric, but then a volley of bullets slammed into her water armor.

  They bounced off, but it distracted her long enough for the real assault to come.

  Tomko, having knocked Riley unconscious, raced over to fight the three newly freed fallen angels.

  Rogers motioned at the big man, but he smiled at her, unaffected by her attempt.

  She cried out a moment before he hit her with his massive shoulder, and she flew clear over three rows of pews to land against a wall, cracking the plaster. She lay limp on the floor.

  Above me, Putnam began to recite the ritual in Aramaic once more from the beginning.

  “You don’t have to do this anymore, Putnam,” I growled. “We’re fighting back.”

  Ignoring me, he spoke faster. Maybe the blast from Riley had addled his brain.

  Having dispatched both Riley and Rogers, Tomko squared off against Anderson and Chase. With both William and Eric still in the fight, the two were outnumbered and outpowered. None of their supernatural attacks would work against Tomko; even in a hand-to-hand fight, he was much stronger and better trained.

  The Bellator smiled as he and his two Grigori encircled them.

  Yates was no help to them, but I saw a flash in his eye as he saw Father Putnam raise the knife over me. The hacker broke into a run, obviously with the intention of saving me from Putnam.

  Putnam repeated the summoning words he’d spoken before:

  “Abaddon, angel of darkness, I bid thee come forth from the Abyss and take this host whom we offer for your use. I entreat thee to cross over and become of the earth.”

  Yates dove for Putnam.

  Putnam plunged the knife down…

  Chapter Thirty-One

  From the days of the slaughter and destruction and death of the giants, from the souls of whose flesh the spirits, having gone forth, shall destroy without incurring judgment—thus shall they destroy until the day of the consummation, the great judgment in which the age shall be consummated, over the Watchers and the godless, yea, shall be wholly consummated.

  –Book of Enoch 16:1

  Yates hit Putnam in a tackle that would make any football coach proud. They landed on the floor and rolled. When Yates came up, he gasped, seeing the bloodstain on his shirt.

  But it wasn’t his blood.

  On the ground, Putnam lay still, eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling, the sacrificial knife sticking out of his chest.

  I was so shocked at not being dead that it took me a moment to realize something more incredible was happening.

  Alders twitched.

  Then the twitching turned into convulsing.

  Then she opened her mouth and let out the most bone-chilling cry I’d ever heard.

  She turned toward me, her eyes wide in shock and terror.

  A moment later, she spoke, and the voice was not her own.

  The only way I could describe the sound that came out of her mouth was the ear-shattering scream of two semi-trucks in a high-speed collision.

  “I am free,” said Abaddon through Alders’ mouth.

  When I looked into Alders’ eyes, I didn’t see her there; I saw something else. Something dark and evil. Had Abaddon had completely taken over her?

  Abaddon repeated louder, “At last: I am free!”

  Sariel had come to. On his knees, he raised his arms to Abaddon.

  “You see?” he cried. “We have upheld our end of the bargain.” He pointed a finger at Abaddon. “I command you to reunite our brethren with us.”

  “You forget who you are talking to!” Abaddon snarled. He reached his hand out to Sariel, and touched him lightly on the side of his face.

  At first, nothing seemed to happen.

  Then Sariel’s skin began to darken, as if a shadow had passed over him. He looked at his hands as they turned a shade of black so deep, it seemed like his entire body had become a vast void of emptiness.

  A moment later, particles started to flake off him, and within seconds, the person hosting Sariel ceased to be. All that was left was a blackened pillar of dust, which held its form for an instant before collapsing on the carpeted floor.

  “I take orders from no one,” Abaddon said to the pile of ash. “If I release your brothers, it will be when I choose.”

  At the edge of my awareness, I saw that Anderson and Chase were trapped, their backs against a wall. Tomko and the two Girgori had them surrounded. No supernatural ability would work against Tomko, and their mundane fighting skills were no match for his training.

  The Bellator’s final attack didn’t come. He’d obviously noticed Abaddon was now present in the world, and that the host of his advisor, Sariel, was dead.

  “Abaddon,” Tomko said, turning. “You cannot go back on your bargain. We had a pact.”

  “You dare to lecture me? Perhaps you need a lesson about who is in charge. Never forget, I am your jailer. Are you fond of your host? Perhaps you’d like me to give it the gift of eternal darkness?”

  For the first time, Tomko had a look of fear on his face.

  In a slightly more respectful tone, he said, “We got you out. Now you’re going to betray us?”

  “Betray you? I spent countless ages worrying at the intangible edges of the pit to create that opening. I allowed you out of that prison only on the condition that you release me, too. That bargain has been fulfilled, and we have no further business.” His eyes narrowed. “Now, I will remake the world as I see fit. Perhaps I will let you serve me, unless you continue to displease me.”

  “Serve you?” Tomko’s fear turned to outrage. “I’m the one who’s done all the work. I am the one who’s supposed to lead the world!”

  “Do not get in my way, Azazel. I cannot be touched by your power. If you try to test me, I will consume you with darkness—”

  But Tomko was beyond reason. With a roar, he charged Abaddon. He was fast, and managed to get his fingers around Abaddon’s throat.

  Abaddon gave him a peculiar look, half-amused, half-perturbed.

  Then Tomko’s body stiffened and darkened. He managed a pitiful cry
as his skin turned black, began to flake, and finally turned to dust.

  Abaddon sneered. “Pathetic. The Grigori will never learn.”

  Surveying the basilica as if taking stock, he growled, “This won’t do. Too bright.” He made a motion, and all the lights in the building went out.

  The moon still shone through the broken window, and Abaddon made a sound of disapproval. “Still far too bright.”

  Ignoring the rest of us, Abaddon hopped off the altar and strode outside. Within moments, clouds gathered and the light of the moon began to fade. Soon, the basilica was plunged into darkness.

  A spark split through the night as Anderson’s hand sprouted a flower of fire. The basilica was cast in an eerie glow from the light.

  William and Eric shared a very quick, panicked look, and then both of them bolted for the exit, leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves.

  The first thing I said was, “Someone get me out of these damned zip ties.”

  Yates, who had been standing over Putnam’s body, pulled the knife out of the priest’s chest and used it to cut open my bindings.

  “I was too late,” he said. “If I’d been a little faster, Abaddon wouldn’t have been summoned.”

  “Well,” I said, swinging my legs over the edge of the altar and sitting up, “at least he took out Tomko for us.”

  Yates grimaced. “Tomko was nothing compared to what Abaddon can do.”

  I hopped off the altar and rubbed the feeling back into my wrists. “I don’t understand.”

  In my periphery, I noticed Chase approaching Rogers. He laid a hand on her, and she regained consciousness instantly. “What happened?” she asked.

  “You’ll be all right,” he said, then headed for Riley to heal him.

  Yates waited for all four of them to approach before he answered me. “Abaddon is the angel of darkness. He was not simply cast into the Abyss; it formed around him. Now that he’s here, the world will slowly transform into another Abyss.”

  “But,” I said, “he says he’s been trying to get out of the Abyss for eons.”