by Roy Bright
The two remaining Warrior-Knights crowd through the bank’s front doors, their footsteps thundering against the concrete sidewalk, their massive swords swinging down by their sides. They stop and roar at her, stomping their feet in unison and causing the ground to shake.
She smiles and then raises a sword to them. She trains it from left to right, across the gaze of the other demons and Taken, and shouts, “I am Charlotte Hope, The Light, and this is the end for you all!”
The street erupts into a cacophony of screaming and roaring, and they charge at her.
She sets off to her left toward an unoccupied piece of ground, running parallel to the group nearest, her swords down by her side but away from her body, trailing. As the first demon leaps at her, she flicks her right sword up with minimal effort and slices its head off. Dust sprays across the asphalt as the demon crumbles into nothingness and three more drop onto all fours, racing toward her growling and slavering.
Now where she wants to be, Charlotte spins around as two of the demon’s leap at her and she hacks through both of their necks, bursting them into clouds of dust, then blurs backward, raises her right sword, and slams it straight through the head of the third, mid-leap. It too disintegrates.
Shifting into the offensive, she motion-blurs through the legion of demons. Pockets of dust explode all over the street as she zips through them like a streak of lightning, thinning their numbers into almost nothing in a matter of seconds.
Finished with the pathetic subordinate creatures who are now no match for her hard-won abilities, she slides to a halt on the opposite side of the street to the bank’s main doors and stares down the two Demon Warrior-Knights. She is bent over, just a fraction, her legs apart, swords straight down by her sides, and her hair and skin glistens with sweat. Her shoulders heave. Come on Charley, get a grip. Enough of the motion-blurring, it’s wearing you down, burning you out. Think, girl, think! What would Judas do? How would he gain control of the situation? She shakes her head. He would use his immortality, stupid! This is why he repeatedly said to you during training that you need to use your head, so come on Charley, THINK! Those two are big bastards and you are getting very tired.
The Warrior-Knights advance, moving at an angle to one another in an attempt to outflank her. They march as one, in perfect time, as though a drum beats a tempo that only they can hear, their swords held in front of their faces.
Their death march is unnerving, and Charlotte feels tension rising within her. She grits her teeth, forcing fear back down, locking it inside her as though fuel for a furnace, using it as energy for her Divinity. She breathes out hard and whispers, “No more running, not even from you.” Standing up straight, a look of determination etched into her face, she spins her swords in her hands and adopts a fighting stance, her left foot forward, right sword uppermost, arced toward the ground, her left sword pointing straight ahead. She takes a deep breath and all sound stops as the Warrior-Knights halt their advance.
Litter dances around the three of them, driven by a sudden gentle breeze that eddies and whorls as they remain locked in the standoff.
No one moves, all are still and quiet as the sun begins its journey downward, setting on the derelict city and bathing it in an orange hue.
Charlotte closes her eyes and gathers her thoughts, clearing her mind of all distraction, of all complications. She sees and hears Judas in her mind, repeating the lessons of her training, and it comforts her, steadying her breathing. She allows a serenity and calm to wash over her. She feels ready. She opens her eyes. Gone is the natural green of her eyes; instead a fierce and piercing pure white light burns bright. Then, it spreads out from her eyes and engulfs her and she emits Divinity in huge quantities. The ground around her shakes and loose rubble and masonry vibrate upon it and slowly lift into the air. Around her, the air fills with pressure, distorting the appearance of the objects behind her body and the concrete splinters and cracks, pushed down by the building force. The power surrounding her is beautiful and terrifying.
She speaks, her voice low and monotone, almost robotic. “Let us finish this, demons. I have told you that this is your end, and your end it shall be.”
They say nothing as they charge at her, thundering over the ground. As they close in on her the three men stumble out of the bank behind them, their hands raised to their faces, still coughing from the poisonous dust cloud of the dead Warrior-Knight inside.
Gary collapses against a lamppost and uses it as a support, leaning into it. He looks up, his eyes red and stinging to see the two demons charging toward Charlotte. As his gaze fixes upon her, he focuses upon her brilliant white and glowing eyes, the immense force flooding out of her and whispers, “My God this is it, she’s doing it for herself, she’s controlling it.” He smiles at the Divinity that is radiating from her and racing across the street – it reaches him and traces its way up and over his body.
Conrad looks on in disbelief, as does Colonel Taylor, mouths wide open.
The first Warrior-Knight reaches Charlotte and swings its massive sword down at her.
She blocks with both her blades, then thrusts forward, her strength amplified such that it knocks the creature backward ten feet, skidding along the ground. It snarls and bares its teeth, then charges at her once again.
The second Knight now enters the fray, swinging its sword at her.
Again she blocks, this time with her right blade, then spins it over her hand, from left to right at a speed too fast for the Knight to react and it strikes the top of its sword, knocking it out of its clawed hand and sending it crashing into the ground. She turns and parries the other demons attack, staggering it and then returning a strike of her own, cracking open a large portion of its chest armor. She then flips her right sword over and under so that it runs up the underside of her forearm toward her shoulder and punches the demon in the chest with its hilt where the fracture is worst, sending it crashing to the ground. Turning to her left and flipping the sword back around, she slices the top of the second Warrior-Knight’s head as it bends over attempting to retrieve its fallen sword.
It explodes with the same intensity as its companion did earlier but this time Charlotte is ready, spinning in a clockwise circle and sending out Divinity with such speed and power that it disperses the dust cloud upward into the air and away from her. As she completes the move, she reacts by instinct and blocks another of the armor damaged, Warrior-Knight’s attacks.
The beast moves with more intent and purpose this time and launches a series of strikes at her, each ferociously powerful. As Charlotte struggles to keep up with her blocks, it takes advantage of a very small window of opportunity and throws out a punch to her midsection.
The blow hits her in the stomach, sending her skidding across the asphalt. She cries out in pain (her Divinity absorbing much but not all of the force) but the determination on her face does not wane. She spins her swords around and attacks the demon.
They trade blow after blow, strike after strike, metal clashing against metal at an incredible rate. Such is the speed at which they attack each other it seems as though only one sound exists, a ringing chime that resonates all around them and out across the street.
From behind the warring pair, the ground buckles and splits upward from a series of shunts, until at last dirt erupts and a portal rips open from within the ground.
Gary shouts out to Charlotte, “Another portal, a freakin’ big one as well. Do something Charley!”
The light around her intensifies and emits a loud high-pitched buzz. She focuses all of her Divinity and channels it into her attacks making them faster than the demon Warrior-Knight’s.
It cannot keep up with this level of violence and something has to give. It does. The Knight can contain her no longer.
She batters his final attack away with her left sword and, screaming, jabs her right sword into its chest over and over at impossible speed.
The demon screams, throwing its head back, and cursing into the sky.
Charlotte spins, her movement lightning fast, decapitates the demon, and in the same move delivers a fierce kick that sends it flying away from her where it explodes in mid-air, its dust drifting off in the breeze. She then turns to face whatever is making its way onto the street, slowly rotating her swords and adopting her fighting stance once again.
Fire spurts out of the portal and two huge hands slam into the ground, shaking it and causing Gary, the Colonel, and Conrad to lose their footing. Charlotte is resolute. She doesn’t move an inch.
The gigantic hands claw their way over the ground, dragging the body attached to them out of the hole. A leg appears and slams into the ground, pushing downward to bring the rest of the creature into view.
Charlotte grits her teeth. “Fire demon!”
She recognizes it as being of the same type that faced down Judas on the street outside Father Keel’s church in Jersey City. She remembers it from the description he had given her as he recited the story to her on many occasions over the last 18 months while they took shelter from a storm or bunked down for the night. From those stories, she knows that this particular demon packs a nasty punch and, not possessing the same regeneration ability as Judas, she realizes she must deal with it before it has time to attack.
The Fire demon has finished hauling itself up onto the street across from her and it roars, so loud and ferocious that it causes the men to cover their ears.
As it arcs its head back and draws in breath, Charlotte knows that this is it – she must deal with it now. She spins her swords around and slams them into the ground where they stick, swaying back and forth then draws in a deep breath of her own and closes her eyes. With her left foot forward and her right trailing, she brings her arms up and around, forming her hands into a ball in front of her. She starts to tremble and vibrate, as does the ground around her. With her lips pressed together, her eyes shut tight, she pours all of her concentration into her Divinity and from within her hands a light starts to grow. Small at first, a tiny ball, but then growing bigger, its light intensifying. As it grows, so too does the glow around her body as massive amounts of Divinity radiate outward, and she slowly pulls her hands apart, growing the iridescent ball that hovers between them.
Across the street, the Fire demon’s maw crackles and fizzes and molten liquid fills up inside of it, swirling around within the confines of the pelican-like jowls.
They are locked in a race of who can unleash their attack first.
Behind Charlotte, the men feel helpless, unable to get involved and can only stand on and stare in amazement as she opens her hands wider still, controlling the ball within them.
Breathing in even deeper, Charlotte opens her arms, and the ball of light hangs suspended, turning slowly. She then turns them counter-clockwise so that her right hand is on top of the ball, her left below it and she opens her eyes that now glow their brightest. She lets out a growl as she thrusts her hands forward, and the holy energy races out of them in a beam toward the creature.
The Fire Demon has now charged up its own attack and it throws its head forward, erupting molten lava out of its mouth.
Their deadly emissions meet in the middle and Charlotte’s proves to be the more powerful almost the very instant they connect. Her blinding white energy cuts through the lava and fires straight toward the demon, causing the lava to disperse to the sides. Entering the demons open mouth, the beam explodes the creature in a devastating burst of power, spraying molten liquid everywhere.
The three men dive for cover back inside the bank as lava hits the walls around the building’s entrance and all around the street, causing fire and smoke to spread everywhere.
As the molten liquid ceases raining down, Gary drags himself to his feet and steps toward the exit. He wanders out onto the street and strains his eyes to see through the fog of smoke, taking great care not to tread in the bubbling lava. He calls out to Charlotte.
No answer.
Looking down at the ground, he is careful to step around the pockets of burning liquid fire that are causing craters to form in the sidewalk, all the while calling out her name. As the fog begins to clear he can make out her form, crouched down, her head between her knees. He smiles to himself as he realizes that she is okay, once again encased in a protective bubble of Divinity.
A breeze rises up, dispersing the majority of the smoke surrounding her and as Charlotte looks to her left, she sees Gary approaching, his face brow furrowed with concern. She tries to speak but the massive expenditure of Divinity has taken its toll and she passes out, collapsing in a heap.
Gary breaks into a run, slides down to the ground by her side, and takes a hold of her, resting her head in his lap. “It’s okay kiddo, I got you. I got you.”
Fifteen
The serenity and emptiness of the glorious white antechamber leading to the Eternal Councils Halls causes Judas to smile. On previous occasions, when it had been necessary to receive Council approval, Gabriel had taken care of the face-to-face meetings, so this was the first time he had been to this wing and he feels honored as he revels in its majesty. On his many previous visits to the White Kingdom he had stopped and taken a few moments to let its Divine pureness wash over him, had stood in its many gardens and taken time to smell the flowers, touch every tree. He had walked among the most populated areas and delighted in studying the faces of those who have transcended into happiness and moved into this, the holiest of places.
But all of that pales into insignificance among the reverence of the antechamber with its pristine and shimmering white walls, adorned with images of Seraphim, Cherubim, Ophanim, Dominions, Virtues, Powers, and Principalities, the highest order of angels in servitude to God, responsible for discussing the most important issues that need presenting before the Lord of all Creation. It is this Council, these seven Heavenly beings, who had helped Judas create the artificial world for Charlotte, and it is they he must convince that his holy mission to secure the Demon Sword Azazel is just, true, and entirely necessary. He is well aware that persuading them to allow him to do so will be extremely difficult.
He looks to his right toward his companion accompanying him and smiles, a small smile, no more than the corner of his mouth twitching.
Gabriel nods and places a hand on Judas’ shoulder. “Nervous?”
“Pfft,” he exclaims, raising his eyebrows, “I am Judas Iscariot, I don’t do nervous.”
Gabriel smirks, “Whatever you say my friend, whatever you say.”
He is lying; he is nervous and from his sarcastic reply it’s obvious that Gabriel senses it too. His nervousness is not about addressing the Council, as that was an activity well within his comfort zone. After all, they may be the highest order of angels but none of them had ever fought Lucifer on a one-on-one basis as he had done, and nothing could be more frightening than that. No, the one thing that has his stomach churning is the fact he will be meeting his master for the first time since seeing him put to death on the cross so many years ago. Even now, after all this time and knowing that the betrayal was not of his own doing, it is still an issue he has not been able to come to terms with. What would he say to him? How would he apologize for putting him through such a horrific and degrading experience?
“It will be fine my friend,” Gabriel says, sensing just what it was that troubled Judas. “You know that you need not ask for forgiveness, as there is nothing to forgive. Right?”
Judas smiles and breathes out heavily. “I know, I know, Gabe, but it’s gonna be hard all the same. These are my personal demons that I need to deal with and, well, it’s gonna be hard.” He laughs a little and lowers his gaze, “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”
“No, you can’t,” he says, laughing along with him, “now quit your belly aching and let’s get this done.” He smiles.
Judas laughs at him, “Fair enough.”
Having reached the far end of the antechamber and now standing in front of two enormous gold-leaf doors, Gabriel stops, turns, and takes a hold o
f Judas’ arm just above the elbow. “Look, I know how you can sometimes fail to keep a lid on your temper—”
Judas is about to interrupt when a raised hand puts a halt to his protestations.
“…you must do so here. This is the most senior of places in which you can possibly be, short of standing in the very presence of God himself, so please behave.” His face grows stern and serious. “Very few, Angel and Demon alike, have ever been granted permission to seek a Sword of Power, so do not expect a warm reception to your request. After all, even I tried to sweep any knowledge of this under the carpet and dissuade you; the Council will not be swayed so easily.”
Judas pats Gabriel on his shoulder, then nods.
“Good man,” Gabriel says. “Okay then, let us enter and see what we can do here today.” He places a hand in the center of the huge doors and they open, effortless and silent.
Judas draws in a deep breath as he steps into the Council Chamber. There, in the middle of the large table that seats the Council, sits Jesus Christ.
To the Son of God’s left sits the Angels Seraphim, Cherubim, and Ophanim, while on his right are Dominions, Virtues, Powers, and Principalities. Although they manifest as singular beings they are in fact the physical embodiments of each of their entire kind.
Judas holds up a nervous hand and smiles.
