The fiery eyes of Fur Fur and the angelic features of the evil Putti Volick all gazed at him with death in their eyes, but the one who filled him with the most dread was the noble-looking knight. Nick had seen his image only in The Book of Eddiss.
The story of the Eater of Wings was told in the book, and that’s why Nick was wise enough to fear him more than the rest. Heaven’s Witch Finder General was a creature of brutality and death. He was the first and most powerful of the class of angels known as the powers. Their job was to record all of history and to fight as grand warriors in God’s army.
In the beginning, the job of the Eater of Wings in particular was to find and punish all those who committed the most horrific of sins, and he was unmerciful in his pursuit. The angel had loved to punish the wicked. The angel, loved it more than God, and soon it became clear to all that he was willing to punish the most trivial of offenses in the most brutal of ways. Moreover, he then turned on the angels themselves just so he could get a chance to deal out his wrath. His hate of sin was so strong that it corrupted and hardened the once noble being’s heart.
Cast from heaven to earth and kept under tight reins, the creature still raged to inflict his vigilantism. It was this being who incited nations to carry God’s name in vain when they committed atrocities. It was he who spurred the hearts of men to murder in God’s name and to brutalize the innocent. This fallen angel had always found humans to be more than willing to cast God aside in all but name and fight for the Eater of Wings and his twisted vision. He had really not had to force humans to do a thing. All he did was offer his hand, and some politician, king, church leader, bureaucrat, or bum would take it.
His presence here was a death sentence, as all souls were judged by him to be wicked and in need of destruction. Blinded by his ego and love of punishment, he marked no sin off even when God had, and he sought to punish every last soul in all of creation. His soul was so corrupted and diluted that he couldn’t even admit that he had fallen. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, he still believed that he was carrying out a holy mission in God’s name. All souls were witches and demons to him, and all souls had to pay.
As Nick ripped the duct tape from his mouth, he stepped forward and spoke to the beautiful angelic knight. “Have you come to punish us all or just a few?” Nick spoke in as strong a voice as he could muster.
The demons parted like the Red Sea to let him pass, and the knight cast his horrendous gaze on Nick. “I will punish all eventually, but when is knowledge meant only for me,” the knight said. The mere act of laying his eyes on Nick made Nick feel as if a thousand pounds had fallen on him, and the trembling that he had been doing stopped as each cell in his body froze under the creature’s heavy eyes.
Valefor gripped his claws deeper into the floor as he said, “The witches shall have at you if the Eater of Wings has no objections.” He raised his paw and bit deeply into it. Black blood spilled onto the floor, hissing. The distorted form slung his paw, flinging his unholy blood into the room. The room, soaked in his blood, was now removed from the order of the Good and tainted until the end of days.
“I have none,” the Eater of Wings growled.
“This is sacred ground now—holy and free from the corruption of God,” and with that, a bright green flame burst from the salt and herbs that Nick had placed around the store as a seal, and the iron doors grew a thick coat of rust. With that, the monstrous forms began to fade into the darkness.
“Nameless One, stay,” Nick screamed in a shrill and desperate voice.
“You drink from the cup of sins, and your punishment is being delivered,” the knight said as his voice ripped into the air like a powerful earthquake. “I will not be far from you this night or ever again,” he said as he faded from material existence.
Chapter 10: Hegel’s Assault
Hegel paced in front of the fire like a football player amping herself up for the big game. Her pitchfork was clenched tightly in her hands. The demons thought that they were making an example of her, but they had given her exactly what she wanted. The survivors’ flesh would soon be hers.
Her rabbit, Heavenly, sat at her side. If she had time to perform the rituals, there were many spells and hexes she could cast, but witchcraft was usually a slow process that required much preparation and thought. It had taken nearly ten witches all worshiping the demons to hide their presence from the survivors with invisibility. For this reason she could not simply burst into the house shooting fireballs and lighting like the witches from a fairy tail. Magic was a daunting undertaking for even the best practitioners. Just to cast her voice into the room when the children were praying required her to go into a trance and invoke powerful worldly sprits. It was not something that could be done on the fly. No, killing the trapped children would have to be done with less than subtle means. It had to be done with her raw anger and physical violence, and this was just fine with the old witch. In fact it’s what she preferred. Magic was a powerful tool. However, it was not nearly as satisfying as strangulation, and Hegel demanded satisfaction.
“Through the heating vent then open the back door. Come back when you’re done,” she said, smiling at her familiar. The rabbit hopped as fast as it could around to the side of the Black Crystal, and it disappeared. Hegel jumped up and down a few times to get the blood pumping through her varicose veins, and she gave her pitchfork a twirl around her back to make sure she still had her moves.
All of the other witches watched as the bloodlust began to grow in Hegel. She was one of the strongest witches in this state, and only the elders knew more about the black arts than she did. She could lay souls to waste with her thoughts and lay bodies to rest with her hands. Those kids who had caused her all this grief were now in for an ass-whooping.
“I am strong like a bear, I am smart like a fox, and I am as deadly as red dye #40!” she said, raising her pitchfork into the air. The other witches howled at her riotous antics. They cheered, screamed, and bodysurfed a few of the evil blowup dolls over the crowd.
It wasn’t long before Heavenly came back from around the Black Crystal. She solemnly nodded. She had breeched the enemy’s defenses and quietly unlocked the back door.
With a horrendous howl, Hegel rushed into the night. Her hard rubber soles clacked across the pavement as she made her long strides. She crossed the distance in little time, and in one fluid motion, she jumped onto the porch and scaled the building. It took only seconds for her to spring to the top of the roof. She didn’t stop. Her feet pounded across the roof only a few times before she had bailed off the other side. She hit the soft grass that carpeted the ground next to the back door. With all her might, she ripped open the door to see that the infidels had piled up some boxes to prevent entry. One hard shove from her shoulder crashed it all to the floor, and she was in the building, ready to do as her wicked heart desired.
She ransacked her way through the unsold copies of Aleister Crowley books, and she burst through the door that separated the stock room from the main store like an exploding stick of dynamite. With a violent crash, she was standing in the main room of the store, staring at the five bewildered survivors.
“It smells like piss in here,” she observed.
Mike was standing closest to her. “Y’all, I think we've got a problem,” he exclaimed.
The others rushed over with their swords at the ready.
“How the fuck did you get in, man?” Mike barked as his friends surrounded Hegel.
“The back door, dipshit,” Hegel snarled, walking further into the room. Nick, Beverly, and Ann pointed their blades at her, ready to strike.
“Fair enough,” Mike retorted, raising his gun. In a flash, Hegel chucked her pitchfork into Mike’s hand, pinning it to a bookshelf. He screamed in pain as the gun fell to the floor.
Like a rabid baboon, Hegel attacked. Before Beverly could swing, she was dropped by a brutal blow to the face, and Nick took a kick to his groin. Ann swung at the fiend, but Hegel easily dodged and delivered a front kick to he
r chest in the most brutal of fashions. Ann instantly lost her breath as she crashed to the floor in a heap.
Nick rushed forward to stab Hagel, but it took little to snatch his hand out of the air. In one quick motion, she caught his wrist and bent it in ways that bones should not bend. It popped as she delivered a backhand to his face, sending him down.
Hegel confidently strutted over to the still-screaming Mike and gripped the handle of the pitchfork.
“Nooo—no, no, no, don’t do it,” Mike pleaded, but Hegel only smiled as she bent down and picked up the gun that had fallen from Mike’s grip. With all his might, Mike kicked at Hegel’s legs, but they were useless blows. The grin on her face grew wider as she tore the pitchfork from Mike’s hand. She even gave a little twist as she did it, just to be a dick.
“Ahhh, God, no,” Mike screamed. As he tried to stand, tears rolled down his cheeks and blood pulsed from his wound.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Mike said through clenched teeth.
“I really don’t see how that’s going to happen, dollface,” she said with a chuckle. Round one had most definitely gone to Hegel.
Ann sprang up and charged with her sword. Hegel heard her feet smacking the carpet, and she turned, stepping back. She pulled the gun up and popped off a shot, practically exploding Ann’s foot. Like a falling pine, Ann toppled to the ground, screaming in pain. Hegel cackled maniacally with the smoking gun still in her hand as the survivors lay on the ground, crying and groaning in pain. Out of nowhere a book flew through the air and smacked Hegel in the back of the head.
“What the fuck?” Hegel said, turning around to see Kim nervously standing in the center of the room.
“Where the fuck did you come from?” Hegel said with a sneer.
“Uhhhhhhhh, Kentucky,” Kim said, stammering and fiddling with her hands. Hegel raised the gun and fired the remaining shots into Kim's chest. Kim crumpled into a heap on the floor, dead.
“So, where were we?” Hegel said, turning back around. Ann was standing up, using her sword as a cane, and Beverly was doing her best to help her. Both Nick and Mike were now standing as well.
Hegel tossed the empty gun to the floor.
“You killed her!” Beverly said.
“That I did,” Hegel said.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Mike yelled as he charged. He swung as hard as he could, smacking Hegel in the face. The blow did little, and unphased, she grabbed him by the shirt collar and slung him back to the ground.
“So which one of you wants it first?” she said, pointing her pitchfork at the survivors.
Blood dripped from Ann’s foot, and her face twisted in torment. Despite the pain she was in, she put her weight on her mangled foot. She clenched her teeth, and her face turned red as she raised her sword. “You’re a bad person,” she screamed. Her voice was a terrible mixture between rage and pain.
“You can only be what you are,” Hegel snickered.
“I’m going to take that other eye,” Ann claimed, pointing to Hegel. “I don’t care what happens. I will rip out that other eye.”
“Ready to die, are you? Nice hair, by the way,” Hegel said, referring to Ann’s new butchered hairdo. She gave her pitchfork a twirl in her hands and readied herself for the attack. All of them charged. Hegel swung her pitchfork like a baseball bat, smacking Nick on the bridge of the nose. Blood spurted out as he fell to the floor. Beverly swung hard, but Hegel parried with her pitchfork. Mike rushed in a full-on football tackle, but it was stuffed by an elbow to the back of his head, and he careened to the floor at the witch’s feet. Ann thrust her sword, slipping past Hegel’s defenses and grazing her side. She roared in pain as Beverly went for another swing. Hegel ducked as the sword barely missed and chopped into a bookcase, lodging itself there. Hegel delivered a quick blow to Beverley’s face. Beverly’s knees wobbled, sending her to one knee.
Ann went for another stab, but Hegel evaded the attempt and snatched her by the shirt, running her into the back wall of the store. Ann crashed thunderously, nearly being pushed through the Sheetrock. She hit so hard that she couldn’t even cry from the pain. Ann was pinned to the wall by Hegel’s free hand, and with little effort Hegel pushed her up into the air. The force of the blow had knocked the sword from Ann’s grasp, and it clanked to the ground.
The others pulled themselves back to their feet. Blood spurted from each of them as they groaned in despair and pain.
“I’ll kill her,” Hegel said as she hoisted Ann up even higher into the air and pointing the pitchfork at her gut. It was clear that the young fools were no match for her, and a high other than adrenalin begin to wash over her brain. It was a warm, light-headed feeling that sent tangling waves from the back of her skull to her forehead. It was victory combined with doing something that she knew was morally reprehensible. The combination was exhilarating, and now she wanted to prolong the feeling for as much time a possible. She would slowly dismember them all so she could see their emotional ups and downs and that wonderful look when they knew that there was no way they were going to live.
Ann gurgled as Hegel’s grip tightened around her throat like a boa constrictor. Hegel turned to make sure the others weren’t sneaking up on her, and when she did, Ann slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out the same little knife she had used to take out Hegel’s eye earlier that night. She snapped the blade open and jammed it right into the witch’s neck. Blood spurted, and Hegel screamed with the fury of hell as she loosed her grip. Ann fell to the ground, gasping for air.
Beverly sprang into action, spearing the wailing witch in the back with the point of her sword. Another wail of torment leapt from her ungodly throat. The blade went clean through her. Hegel whipped around, delivering a spinning back fist to Beverly’s temple, and she fell hard. Nick swung his sword, coming down on the collarbone of the witch. It instantly shattered the bone to pieces, and she dropped to her knees.
Mike tackled the witch, sending her to the ground in a violent crash. Nick jumped on top of her, quickly followed by Beverly.
Despite her numerous wounds, the witch still writhed and kicked with the power of a bull. Blood spewed from her as she snatched Nick’s hand with her mouth and clamped down with her hyena-like jaws. His ring finger was sucked down the gullet of the witch. He screamed in pain, but he never relented.
Mike delivered every brutal haymaker he could to the witch’s face as Beverly sat on Hegel’s good arm, trying to do her best to keep it down. But her arm, the hellish thing, was so powerful that it was still lifting Beverly off the ground every time the witch bucked.
“Stop!” Ann shouted. They all looked up, even Hegel, to see Ann standing above the witch with the pitchfork in her hands. Mike moved a bit so she could get a clear shot, and Ann hoisted the implement that had taken so many innocent lives in the past.
Hegel smiled a bloody, broken-toothed grin. “They’re still going to bleed you like hogs, and I’m going to be cackling in hell when they do.”
“No, you won’t ’cause you won’t be able to see what’s going on,” Ann said as she plunged the pitchfork into Hegel’s good eye. It smashed through and out the back of her skull as Ann flung her weight into the blow. Howls went up into the air like smoke from an inferno, and Ann twisted and spun the pitchfork, scrambling the witch’s brains.
Chapter 11: Damned Decisions
Outside, the devilish witches watched the house with anticipation. They clacked their teeth, drummed their fingernails, and twiddled their thumbs.
“How long’s it been?” one witch said to another.
“I don’t know…maybe thirty minutes.”
“You think she’s dead?”
“Naw, Hegel is one of the most nefarious witches there is. She’s probably in the process of gutting them right now.”
“I think she’s dead,” the first witch said.
“No way. I’ve seen her kill like six grown dudes with a road cone at one time…. It was like wow…I mean, like…wow. I me
an, there was like nothing left of them. I don’t even know how she did it.”
“I think she’s dead.”
“Road cone…I swear…a road cone, dude.”
“It’s been too long. She’s dead, and we’re about to have to go in there. I fucking knew some shit like this was going to happen. It’s just depressing.”
There was a long pause.
“Hey, did you hear about the new group I started?”
“Naw, what is it?” the first witch said.
“I call it—Are you ready for this?—WETW: Witches for the Ethical Treatment of Witches.”
“Nice.”
“Yep, I feel like we have been underrepresented in this country, and we need a strong voice to advocate for our way of life…Besides, there are just so many fucking fundamentalist groups out there, I feel like they need some competition.”
“I know, right, like they’re always trying to force their puritan beliefs on us as if it’s the seventeenth century. It’s fucked up,” the first witch said.
“I know, right.”
“More hobo leg?” the first witch said, raising a smoking chunk of hobo meat up.
“Naw, doctor said I got too much red meat in my diet as it is. …tempting, though.”
“Fuck…we’re going to have to go in there, aren’t we?”
“Ahhh, I think so. Poor Hegel. She was one of the best agents of the devil that I have ever met.”
“Ohhh. OK …Let’s do it.”
Chapter 12: Casting Out Devils with Devils
Despite their wounds, the dwindling group relocked the door in the storeroom and piled so much in front of it, there was no way anything short of a bulldozer could get in.
Then the survivors patched themselves up as best as they could. Nick sat on top of an overturned bookshelf, looking at his arm. It had begun to swell and looked as if it would continue to grow until it burst at the seams. He had pulled a bag of ice out of the mini fridge and had it pressed on his wrist. The cold clashed with the heat of the air, and his body didn’t know what to make of the situation. Chills clawed up his spine as sweat poured from his brow. Electric shots of pain pulsed through his arm at uneven intervals, each time contracting his muscles, like a python trying to crush its prey. Not only had his wrist been shattered, but his ring finger was now rotting in the dead witch’s stomach. He had smothered it in the same concoction that he had used on Beverly. He began to wonder if it had a meaning when he lifted his eyes to see Ann resting her head on Beverly's lap while Beverly clenched Ann's hand in a death grip.
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