Chapter 3
Apollyon’s Sanctuary
Apollyon sat in the vastness of his dark domain. The blackness was empty and silent. He escaped into this private, secret place away from the screams of the burning souls and from the cries of the hordes of the great-tailed ones, pleading to be let loose on the earth. He kept this place as his only sanctuary from them all. He sat on a gray throne of rock granite surrounded by ancient symbols of dark fathers, wizards, witches, and demons. His eyes were the only sign of his presence glowing black with the centers filled with red-hot stars like molten lava, moving, pushing at the insides of his pupils, retracting, and filling uncontrollably. He sat without movement; so still, that it made him feel like part of the throne, an object without life except for his eyes. He soaked up the evil events around the world, feasting on the chaos, the evil while the disasters stoked his heart with a passionate, dark pleasure.
Sudan was Apollyon's greatest achievement. His greatest warriors were assigned to the killing and mayhem, and he especially liked the martyrdom of those called believers. He knew he was making progress when the Lord assigned Aaron to lead the battle against his own in Sudan. But Dar-Raven, his most famous commander, led the charges against Aaron, holding back the light, hampering the deliverance; and surprisingly, not even the Lord was able to do much more than hold him back a little.
How wonderful it was to have kept Dar-Raven. He came with the other third of heavens best, worst as it was, to help him lead those other demons and dark angels he had created since. He chuckled at the Sudan victory, watching all things from his quiet vantage point. Dar-Raven had just come back from battle where thousands were killed in over ten villages—all of them Christians. In the midst of causing Muslims to attack these innocents, he pushed back a major assault of God’s angels. He used only sixty legions of his best long-sword fighters. After six hours of fighting, they had stopped the first wave and pushed God’s army back into Kenya. He was resting in his victory, knowing they wouldn’t try again for several weeks. It would take God that long to pick up the numerous, scattered pieces and let His "powers" heal.
Angel warfare was always vicious, making human warfare look humane and polite. No matter how bloody their battles, angels on both sides always recovered and returned to the battle again. There are only a few things an angel couldn't survive. It was normally a result of extreme mutilation mixed with ancient poisons and dark enchantments (curses). Apollyon was successful in doing that from time to time as was necessary. He had special dark angels reserved for such tasks; his assassins that specialized in those kinds of murders. He kept them back from the regular ranks, hidden and saved for those extra special events.
Dar-Raven
Apollyon saw Dar-Raven pushing his hand backwards as if he was running it through his hair, but he had none. His fierce features were legendary and frightening. His facial bones pushed at the skin, stretching his looks around his bones so tightly that he looked, at first glance, like a skeleton with skin. His eyes were deep set. Where most dark angels had black star-eyes swirling like black holes of space in just their pupils, his filled his eyes and overflowed around them so much that the eye-sockets looked like black, molten pieces of coal. His ghastly appearance was set with a hairless body shaped with iron muscles forged without fat or fairness, just hard, knotted braids of muscle twisting around his torso, making him look grotesque and misshapen. Every tightly strung muscle was the result of thousands of years of angel battle and war.
He first served God in heaven with Apollyon. When Apollyon started the rebellion against God, he helped lead the revolt. Apollyon promised him a place beside him as a master of the dark places. Apollyon’s defeat was a great shame to him. It caused his shape and fairness to burn away in his anger, and he swore that he would never have beauty again like God’s angels but would wear the sign of his rebellion against the light in every battle from then on. He changed to human form from time-to-time, appearing as a preacher or an evangelist, wearing the appeal of human beauty, but it was always temporary. He always yearned to return to the "Skeletor" appearance of his own design.
Dar-Raven didn’t have a sword like Aaron’s. He chose a simple razor-edged sword six inches across and five-foot long. He swung it with such major strength that if he missed, the breeze from it could knock an attacker backwards hundreds of feet. It was so finely sharpened, and its edges were so perfected, down to a molecule; all produced in the depths of hell’s furnace. It was made of forged metal from the earth's core, blended with thousands of crushed diamonds. Its brilliance was dazzling and startling when struck by light. When he used it, attackers sometimes heard a high-pitched scream mini-seconds before it cut them in half.
As Dar-Raven rested, his dark angels ministered to him, bathing him in sponged hot oil. Where God had heir-servant angels to assist believers, Dar-Raven commanded thousands of personal female angels. They were required to shave their heads and decorate their bodies in wicked, evil symbols of Apollyon. They slaved over him and for him and never raised their heads higher than his, moving snake-like around him. Their wings were chained together from behind, allowing them never to fly unless he demanded it. They stayed close to him, filling the air around and near him to answer all his personal whims and distorted needs. No one ever saw these creatures of hell until they were thrust through the hellhole of space entering hell's domain. Who would ever choose hell with such terrible distorted creatures to mirror the true intentions of Apollyon? No other angels had these slaves except Dar-Raven. He was envied and despised by his own because of it.
The only angel in heaven and on earth that could completely handle Dar-Raven was Aaron. There were some of Aaron's closest comrades like Joseph and Isaac, who could give him a run for his money, but Dar-Raven avoided all of them when possible.
Where’s Aaron?
Apollyon was soaking up the dark memories, then suddenly, he sat up straight, "Aaron's gone!"
He couldn't know everything the light was doing but sensed it. Although, he knew absolutely everything evil was up to. He felt something was missing. He was missing the life force that Aaron always exhibited. He might have killed King David if it hadn't been for Aaron hanging around him so much. He was surprised that God let King David battle against Goliath. He thought for sure that Goliath could defeat him.
God was always in the business of surprising him with impossible, ridiculous tricks and moves. God was just too unpredictable and sure of Himself. He couldn't stand the righteous arrogance and self-confidence that God exhibited in His own abilities dwelling in man. It drove him crazy. If he could just get humans to rely on their own strength, he'd have them in his clutches, but they didn't. They kept surrendering to God, and God advantaged them by always doing for them what they couldn't do by themselves, winning.
"Where is Aaron?" thought Apollyon. If he's gone, it has to be for a reason. Aaron was always put on the most important assignments. Normally, they had to do with children. He felt impelled to let Dar-Raven know that Aaron was missing. Where was he?
Dar-Raven began watching another tribe of Sudanese Muslims attacking a small village, using machetes to kill everyone, including women and children. How he loved to watch the evil, the darkness. These wonderful sights choked him up just a little. His mind drifted dreamily while he thought where else he might have a similar victory. In a flash, he thought about Bosnia or Saudi Arabia. He remembered two young boys with special talents for darkness. If he could get them in a place of power or influence, he'd start this vicious chaos all over again. He couldn't remember their names. It was "Yogo" something, and Bin, something or other, but he knew where to find them.
"Whatever," he thought. He knew they'd be useful one day. Apollyon did the same with Stalin and Hitler. He always had the dark cookie cutter ready to make some more.
"Dar-Raven." Dar-Raven heard a voice deep within him and raised a fist into the air to rece
ive the message more clearly. "Have you seen Aaron, lately?" the dark father asked.
Dar-Raven didn't know and looked around the heavenly battleground for a glimpse of him. He could always spot him because his own angels fell like leaves in fall under him, body parts and all. He admired and hated Aaron for his ability. When they battled in the past, it was always such an even match. There had been too many draws with seldom a time when the other got an advantage.
He turned to a group of angels returning from the fray, "Did any of you see Aaron?"
They looked surprised that Dar-Raven would ask them anything at all with half of them missing arms and legs, and their chest armor pierced repeatedly with massive holes. They wondered why they wore armor to begin with. They were exhausted and needed to repair and recover, not asked hide-and-seek questions.
Maclisis answered him, "No, not in a couple of days. We've seen Caleb, Joseph, and Isaac giving most of the orders. Aren't they the ones Aaron assigns to take his place, his seconds in command?" Maclisis doubled over in pain and grabbed at his stomach trying to hold in his own intestines by poking them back into himself.
Dar-Raven answered the Dark Father, "No one has seen him in the last couple of days. Do you think he might have been reassigned?" Dar-Raven frowned thinking what could be more important that Sudan. Maybe it was Washington D.C. He had been promised a reassignment to D.C. if he was able to win a complete victory here. They already had dark angels acting as Senators and Congressman. It wouldn't be hard to completely take over D.C. if he moved this army in place. It was a matter of not enough angels to do it all. They had to be careful how they were all allocated.
Dar-Raven heard the orders clearly, "Send one of your best angels to find Aaron. You know my favorites. There's something going on and following him is the best way to find out. Tell him to follow wherever the trail leads. I want daily reports and if there is any sign of a heavy concentration of angels in any place stay close by. They will be there for a reason. Where there's smoke there's fire. Don't we know that?"
Dar-Raven nodded and dropped his upheld fist from its receiving posture. He turned to a young dark angel beside him, not as large as the rest, but still approaching seven-foot tall, not yet grown. He wasn’t as muscular as the other warriors, but he would be one of these days. He was certainly one of Apollyon's favorites.
"Tare, I have an assignment for you. Find out the last place anyone has seen Aaron and follow that trail. Report directly to Apollyon."
Irish: An Angel's Journey Page 5