Angels and Demons | Teen Ink

Angels and Demons

October 24, 2014
By Brigg BRONZE, Pasco, Washington
More by this author
Brigg BRONZE, Pasco, Washington
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"For every test we go through, every trial and tribulation, the Master Forgeman strikes us with his hammer and we are improved." -Unknown


Author's note:

This piece was inspired one night while I was camping and was watching the logs burn in the fire pit. My girlfriend also helped with her love of the show Supernatural (which inspired names only). I wrote it for her and she let me publish it because she thought this story was so cool.

 
Preferences
§
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
0
-
=
Backspace
 
Tab
q
w
e
r
t
y
u
i
o
p
[
]
 
Return
 
 
capslock
a
s
d
f
g
h
j
k
l
;
'
\
 
shift
`
z
x
c
v
b
n
m
,
.
/
shift
 
 
English
 
 
alt
alt
 
 
Preferences

Tonight was festival night for the people of the village, the war was over and the Emperor had called for a day of celebration. The enemy had been sent back licking its wounds and tending its dead. Many a young lovers hid in the shadows as they celebrated the victory. Children had run along the parade through the main road while tolerating parents watched for falls and crying that would be healed with hugs and kisses. Cat-women stood in the alley ways and the inns hoping for the comfort of a strong soldier in bed. Shop owners left their stalls to watch the performers breathe fire and spin plates. Unattended stalls were shortly relieved of their products.
A few of the older children tried passing as adults to get into the more restricted festivities. Most were caught by their parents who were enjoying these particular events themselves, others made it in and decided to forget the warnings of their parents.
Into the night fireworks were launching into the sky captivating both old and young with pyrotechnical displays of rainbows, showers, and concentric rings.
To the east of the village a small home sat on the rice fields that were ready to be harvested. The fireworks were halfway to the horizon in the distance. Song birds whistled their sad songs in the groves beyond as the sun fled the crescent moon. Flowers wept before they closed, until the sunrise as the dew gathered early in the nightly air. The water glistened eerily in an orange-red glow that was neither of the moon nor the sunset.
The house burned.

The house burned.
Flames licked up the sides of the walls to grasp the roof with fiery fingers that strove to both pull the roof down and to lift it into flight. Shadows moved inside the windows as the residents strove to escape to their wet rice patties below. Cries for help went unanswered. Minutes ticked by, no one emerged from the blaze. Too soon the paper and wood house was collapsing into the foundation and then to the water below even as embers flew to the stars. None survived.
A small girl who had been gathering wildflowers for the dinner table came upon her home burning. Her first thought had been to rush inside to help her family. But the flames terrified her into paralysis. She watched, unable to move, as her home and family burned in the inferno. She kept watching until long after the rubble had gone cold. Tears streamed down her face and her body was racked with sobs. After a time, exhaustion took her to a painless sleep.
When the moon was starting to decline she came awake. It was a sound that had woken her; a snap in the woods. Careful not to move she listened more. There it was again, like a branch breaking. She couldn’t think that it was someone coming to help, a helper would have called out first, not sneak through the woods. She laid there waiting for a third. It came slightly louder and from close behind. Whoever this was they were coming for her. She didn't wait for another moment and began running along the path toward town. Immediately there was the sound of crashing brush some distance behind her. She tried to cut through the woods in order to confuse whoever was chasing her. A glance over her shoulder showed her nothing of her pursuer, but it did tell her that she could not run and look back at the same time. She struck the low branch hard enough to crack it. Her wind lost she struggled up only by fear of what was behind her.
Trees flew past until the village lights could be seen ahead. Her panic driven brain couldn't tell her that the village was in the opposite direction that she had run. The lights drew ever closer as the pursuer closed the distance. It began to dawn on her that the lights were the wrong shape, they were far too high to be the village and they were the wrong color. Still, anything had to be better than the creature that chased her. And was gaining.
She had determined that it wasn't human when it had tried to follow her across a small stream and bellowed in frustration. It was like nothing she had ever heard. A glance back had only revealed a dark form covered in shadow.
She sped on through the woods towards the lights. Gasping for air, the little girl fell to her hands and knees on the forest floor. A sound started to fill the air, like a large bird flapping overhead. First it was only one, then a second pair joined, then a third, then more. Fearfully she looked up and sighted dozens of winged men circling above her. Silhouetted against the crescent moon they performed aerial flips and spins and wheels amongst the treetops. The little girl stared in shocked awe at the beautiful white-winged men. Silently one glided down beside her, and not knowing how else to react she fell face first to the ground in a worship pose.

The winged man glided down, and stood beside her. He was unlike the others, he bore black wings that spread behind him majestically. He wore only black pants showing his bare chest that was not over burdened by muscles, but not lacking them either. His dark hair fell in curls that framed his face and contrasted with his piercingly bright blue eyes. The black-winged man knelt and placed a soft, strong hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the contact and looked into his bright blue eyes. "Do not be afraid child, you are among friends." The voice was pure and melodic, it gave her comfort and a sense of peace, but did not fully dispel her fear.
"I am being followed by a monster," she whispered quietly, fearful of making too much sound around the almost silent acrobats. "My family is gone and my house is burned, and I am lost," she sobbed.
The man kept his hand on her shoulder and brought her close in an embrace. "There, there child. You are safe and no harm will come to you. Let out the fear and the loss in your tears," his voice helped to calm her uncontrolled tears.
Another of the flying men drifted to the ground. This one was in contrast to the other, he had the purest white wings and short blond hair that shadowed his forehead. He wore a clothing of a strange make that had two lines crossing across his chest. Carrying a mace that hummed gently, he walked over to the man with the black wings and the girl.
"Castiel, Alistair continues to seek entrance into the grove. We must take action," spoke the newcomer, his voice seeming harsh after the first man.
"I know Warren, I know. First we must protect this child from her own dreams." Castiel whispered back, still comforting the little girl. "If not then she may forever suffer from what she has witnessed."
"She will witness more if we do not act soon," Warren argued, glancing around as if expecting the demon to come tramping within site just by speaking about him.
Castiel drew back and looked the girl in the eyes very seriously, "You need to stay right here. This is a sacred grove where no evil being can enter. We must go and defend this from one who would seek entrance and defile this place."
"The thing that chased me is still coming for me?" she whispered frightened.
"Yes, it is." He took a deep breath, "You have been very brave, and now you must be brave further, we must all go and assault this being. It is has great power and will not fall easily. You will hear things and you will fear for our lives. You will think you see one of us asking for help in the distance, it will not be one of us. You may even think there are things in the woods that will come for you and that you must run. Do not run. It is all an illusion. Remain in this spot and do not leave it until you feel my touch on your shoulder and hear my voice, only then can you move without danger."
The little girl paled and stared up at the man above her. "What if you don't come back?"
He managed a smile. "That will not happen. I will be back even if it takes until the morning."
She nodded weakly, agreeing to her promise.
Castiel rose and took flight followed shortly by Warren joining the circle of flying men in the treetops. All at once they turned and flew to in the direction the girl had come from. She sat back on the ground and looked for things within reach to cover her eyes and ears. She stuffed moss from a large boulder three feet away into her ears, then tore a piece from the hem of her dress and wrapped it around her eyes. She began to wait.

Castiel, Warren, and the others flew searching for the tell-tale signs of the demon's passing. Here the grass had withered and burned. There a harmless forest animal was turned to stone. Everywhere the woods were silent.
When the trail ended abruptly, two were sent back to see if it was a false path and the rest began looking for other signs. A small stream burbled shortly in the distance while a night owl soared high overhead across the moon.
"Where has he gone? Could he have returned to Hell?" Warren wondered out loud.
"No, he would never return willingly unless this world were reduced to nothing but ash and misery." Castiel answered.
A shadow fell from the sky. What they thought an owl was the demon waiting in ambush for them. Two had fallen to the ground before the rest had realized what happened. Reacting too late to save their comrades, the angels converged on the dark form. Swords fell and cut into the infernal flesh while white fletched arrows with barbed tips flew into the gaps between the melee combatants and struck deep. Alistair roared and swept those immediately around him in all directions with his great black arms. Clawed hands ripped through the white flesh of the men as fear seeped into all minds.
Alistair was a demon of mighty power that had broken from his eternal prison to rain terror onto man. He stood nearly eight feet tall with midnight skin like armor and claws like daggers. Fire raged from his mouth even as darkness spilled from his eyes. He was every description of a devil.
The fight wore on and one by one wings fell from the air to the forest floor never to rise again. Soon only seven remained: Castiel, Warren, Michael, Gideon, Ether, Thomas, and Luke. They circled around Alistair feinting attacks before retreating back to safety.
"Give in and we may be merciful in your punishment," called Warren lifting his mace threateningly.
"Do you think I will surrender so soon?" scoffed Alistair. "You have not begun to see the limits of my power. After I finish dealing with you I will turn this land to utter destruction. No people or nation shall stand against me again!" His voice like water poured on a furnace.
"You shall have no chance," countered Michael. "You will not be permitted to leave this circle of messengers."
Alistair's only response was to throw fire at Thomas and make a dash at Luke. The flame flowed over Thomas sending him to the ground in pain. Luke raised his short sword and silver shield in defense and braced for impact. Alistair met him with the force of a steam engine wrapping his arms around Luke. They wrestled briefly before Alistair broke the wings of his opponent. Gideon fired with his longbow into the back of the demon to save Luke from further injury. The arrows sunk deep between two armored plates. Fury coursed through the dark being, he sprang up and with lighting agility flung a head sized stone at his newest attacker. A crack sounded as Gideon was hit in the arm and dropped his bow, he began to cradle the broken limb.
"Where is it!? Why hasn't it come yet?!" demanded Warren of Castiel.
"I don't know, it has come every time before," Castiel said searching the sky.

The little girl sat and shook. Even though she had stuffed her ears with moss and covered them with her hands, she could still hear the sounds around her. Her head filled her mind with visions of things that would be producing those sounds.
"It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real." she repeated to herself over and over.
Something touched on the shoulder and she screamed. Tearing off the makeshift blindfold she saw a sword on the ground in front of her. It was much shorter than most of the swords she had seen on display at the village. Double edged and made of white silver, the blade looked razor sharp and it reflected the crescent moon with perfect clarity. The handle seemed to be wrapped in reinforced leather and had a small jewel on the end.
There was a note near the handle of the sword. It read: "This is the Angel Blade, it comes to very brave people at very frightening times. Take it to your newest friends, they will need it very soon." It was signed “Father”, and on very fine paper with a stamp of a dove and cross.
Her mind raced trying to make a decision of what to do. The man with the black wings had told her to stay there until he got back. But the sword obviously came from her father which meant he was alive somewhere.
She picked up the sword and ran heedless of the illusions that reached out to grab her.

The reddened wings drooped to the ground as Michael fell in defeat. Only Warren and Castiel were left now. They circled their enemy watchfully. It had been an amazing fight; Michael had dived into Alistair just before he had reached Gideon and wrestled with him on the ground for ten minutes before Alistair had broken his jaw. When Michael had drawn back in pain Alistair had proceeded to bite off Michael's arms spraying blood everywhere.
With only two of the original three dozen left, Alistair was confident he would be free within the hour. Warren lifted his mace and made a motion at Castiel; Castiel nodded and lowered his sword so it pointed at Alistair.
"There are two ways we can do this Alistair, either you surrender and have a chance at being forgiven or you will be destroyed." shouted Castiel.
Alistair laughed. "There is no one left but you two. How can you destroy me when a whole troop of your comrades could barely scratch me?"
"There are ways," replied Warren. He flew at the demon and swung his mace. Light filled the clearing and thunder sounded as the mace struck Alistair in the chest and flung him back. "I am powered by the will of my heart and shall not be overcome!"
Castiel threw his blade at the demon's head narrowly missing. Warren dived and hit the dark body before it could fully retaliate. Light flared again and again with each hit from the mace. Each time Alistair writhed in agony from the pain.
Castiel grabbed his blade and whispered a prayer amongst the screams of the demon, "God, why have you not sent me the Angel Blade. Have I failed you in some way that I did not know?" He opened his eyes just then the little girl ran into sight carrying a sword.
"Castiel!" the girl yelled, finally making it to the clearing. She was holding up the weapon.
He recognized it immediately and flew to grab it. As soon as his hand grasped the hilt, the blade shone with a bright light that lit up the area. Both Warren and Alistair stopped their blows to stare; one in wonder the other in horror.
Castiel looked up and ran to the pair holding the shining blade high. Warren dodged out of the way of the oncoming doom. The demon stood there, transfixed by turn of events.
The blade fell and Alistair screamed.

An instant later the forest was dark again. There was no demon and the light of the sword had dimmed to a low glow like hot steel. Castiel fell heavily to his knees and wept for his fallen friends.
The little girl approached and put her hand on his shoulder, "Don't cry, it will be alright."
Tearfully he looked up at her. "How did you do that? How did you bring the Angel Blade all the way here without me knowing where it was?"
She related to him the events that led to her possession of the sword, starting with her stuffing her ears and covering her eyes and ending with her running into the clearing. The others were starting to wake up as if from bad dreams, all signs of damage clearing over to become nonexistent.
Quickly Castiel said, "What is your name?"
The angels were starting to glow and fly upwards to the stars.
The little girl’s shoulders straightened and she took on a look of remembering something long forgotten. "My name is Faith, I represent the faith of those who trust in Him, and wherever I exist my family will be there too." The air lit up around her as her family stepped out of nowhere.
"We are the Miracles," they intoned together. "We are the instruments of God that will save humanity:
“Strength,” the father,
“Wisdom,” the mother,
“Service,” the oldest boy,
“Virtue,” the oldest girl,
“Charity,” the middle child, a girl,
“Kindness,” the youngest boy,
“Faith,” the little girl.
“We reside wherever there is danger of losing to evil and change it to good."
Knowing that this land would be taken care of, Castiel finally answered the calling and flew up to the sky leaving the Miracles behind to continue their work, asking himself why he hadn’t recognized the holy servant before. Perhaps he was spending too much time on Earth and was becoming dulled to his recognition of the Light.
"Come," spoke the father, Strength, "we have much work to do in this land before the time is over." With that they walked away toward the village.



Similar books


JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This book has 0 comments.