Longevity- the Wardens of Time

by Caleb Smith

  Little did they know that their bodies would soon be infected and spirits manipulated. The Nephilim remnants pulled away from the bloody body of the dead animal, becoming airborne. The demon’s vision was fuzzy, and it would remain that way until entering another host.

  The remaining two policeman unloaded all the lead they had into the thick fur. Vital organs were hit, and she clawed and wiggled on the ground while blood oozed from her fallen body. One more shot was aimed at her temple, and the second bear was finally dead.

  Noah sat watching frantically as two more cops were now dead, with just two left standing. Two more cars arrived on the scene along with medics and a detective car. The SWAT team had not yet been deployed. He vaguely saw a dark, smoky essence leave the body of the second bear and form a nebulous cloud in the air next to another murky mass. He wasn’t sure if anyone else saw this, or if anyone else was capable of seeing it. Instinctively, he figured they must be spirit particles.

  The black smoke pooled together and then divided, darting into the nose and mouth of the two officers. Their bodies hit the floor and immediately started convulsing, just as Henry, Shawn, and Marcus exited the police station.

  Law officials in the newly arrived cars focused their attention on the motley group of men walking out of the station with swords and shields. They yelled for the paramedics to help the fallen officers who were seizing on the ground and then began firing at the three assailants. The rotten corpses used their shields to block the bullets, sending them spraying into the public.

  Just as the medics reached the convulsing officers on the ground, demonic possession was complete. The two cops rose from the ground and looked at each other, smiling deviously. They first turned their attention to the medics, shooting them in the chest, and then they aimed their fire at the cops who were confronting Henry, Shawn, and Marcus. When the trio realized what had happened, they, too, smiled, and closed in on the remaining officers, riddling them with bullets, and finishing them off with their swords and daggers.

  Henry then hopped into the driver’s seat of the closest police car. The doors were open, but keys were not in the ignition. It took a moment for Shawn and Marcus to digest the reincarnation of the police officers, but it was the eyes of each creature that explained what had happened. They chuckled collectively until Henry broke up the bonding moment.

  “Get in the car, you idiots. Let’s get out of here. Throw me your keys.”

  The officer reached into his pocket and felt nothing. He was silent. It seemed that he did not know how to communicate. He just shrugged his shoulders and made a grunting sound.

  “You gotta be kidding me. Keys, you idiot. You know, to start the car?”

  Frustration set in. He gave up on trying to explain and instead walked over and started patting down the officer’s pockets. No luck. He turned his head to the next Nephilim cop.

  “What about you?” He started patting him down, and finally, in the left pocket, he felt a clump of metal rings and pulled them out. He dangled the keys in front of the two faces. “You see, these are keys. They start the car, and we need them to drive.”

  The Nephilim brothers just stared back blankly.

  “Just get in the car, you morons. Everybody get in the car!” Sirens were getting closer.

  They piled in and slammed the doors, and Henry sped off in the opposite direction of oncoming emergency vehicles. He headed north on Main Street and then cut left up the first side street with screeching tires until out of sight.

  Noah stood up with Keeper in his arms; she was still glowing white. The only thought in his mind was to get to the book shop. He had to alert the twins. He started his bike and sped off before the rest of the cavalry arrived to the horrific scene. It had been the worst twenty-four-hour period that Mid-Town had ever experienced. Luckily for the boy, the book shop was close.

  Chapter 43

  Noah was still shaking when he dismounted his bike, and he walked it right through the front door of the book shop. Though terror was now out of sight, it remained in the front of his mind. He tried to control his breathing and get his bearings. Everything was happening too quickly. He looked at the floor and saw that rather than standing on a mirror, he was now standing on clouds. He quickly looked up and glanced around.

  Everything else remained the same. The front counter and stairs protruded out of the clouds. The book shelves and aisles were all still intact. He looked up at the ceiling and saw the same mirror reflecting the cloud floor below, a scene that reminded him of his visit to the Akashic Records.

  Keeper was hopping about, happy and comfortable, as if she were home. Noah was dumbfounded and slow to become accustomed to his surroundings. He called out for the twins – surely they would be there! But there was no answer. Again, he called.

  “Guys, are you here? Enoch, Elijah! Where are you? I need your help. Please. I don’t know what to do.”

  They were there watching, but they did not allow themselves to be seen. They couldn’t. Noah was special; he just didn’t completely know or understand his power yet. This was his first test, a test of complete faith. He had to let his faith outweigh his fear. They would guide him and give him the tools to help pass his test, but they could not take the test for him.

  Noah became nervous, and he was getting restless with no response from the twins. He could feel their presence but could not see them. The boy continued to call their names as he walked around, trying to figure out what to do.

  He felt something like a firm hand guiding him toward the stairs, and he slowly moved in that direction. Keeper followed along happily. Noah felt this guiding presence course through his body, and it was comfortable and soothing. As he climbed, he looked back. Clouds were closing in with each step he took. When he reached the top, he entered the room, and instead of finding aisles of bookshelves, he found an open sky and a brilliant, shining light. He thought that he must have accessed a different dimension.

  Then, out in the distance about a hundred yards away, something caught his eye. He didn’t know what it was, but it was shiny. Noah looked down at Keeper, whose head was just above the soft puddles of clouds. He picked her up in his gentle arms, not wanting to lose sight of her, and strolled toward the object.

  It was sitting on a podium, tilted and on display. And then he heard a whisper.

  “Go ahead; take it away.”

  Without further ado, the boy reached out and took the handle of the blade in his right hand, still holding Keeper in his left. It was roughly twenty-three inches long. When he touched it, it somehow spoke to him. The history of its forging flashed through his mind as soon as his hand grasped it. It had been created by angels, from the fires of the heavens, crafted especially for his hand. He had earned the right to use it.

  The blade was as light as a feather and molded to his growing hands to perfection. Flames raged within the shiny metal. The demon-slayer sword was alive and burned with heaven’s fury. It would instantly slice and burn any evil in which it came in contact, and it was made of the same material as the swords of Power Angels and Arch Angels. It also came with a matching lightweight, flexible metal sheath that could be strapped to his back.

  Hanging next to the sword was a necklace with a five-pointed star. Noah reached out and touched it. He knew it must have been made from a blend of precious metals. He put it on and felt a chill go directly through his body. With this piece of jewelry, he would be able to repel demons who would instantly understand that he worked for the light and had a fierce power backing him: love. In the presence of evil, the star would shine brightly, essentially blinding foes and rendering Noah’s whereabouts or direction unknown.

  This was the beginning of Noah’s vocation. He had an important role to play on earth in this time and space. He would have to realize his potential. Once evil understood Noah’s role, it would step up its game. But, the fact that Noah was armed for supernatural warfare this early on in his life, was an indication of his makeup and that he was destined for this cha
llenge.

  With the necklace clipped around his neck, Keeper by his side, and the sword strapped to his back beneath his gray hoodie, he felt confident about his quest. His faith was growing and bringing him closer to his guiding being. It would be difficult for the darkness to trap him or harm him with the tools that he now possessed.

  It was time to get to work. He slowly walked back to the doors that would bring him to the bottom floor and out to the street, reflecting on this place. He knew he had a difficult path ahead, and he now better understood that the books that had been given to him by the twins were all part of his preparation.

  Pride, envy, gluttony, lust, anger, greed and sloth were now his enemies. And so, the battle would begin.

  Chapter 44

  His eyes watched the lawlessness in Mid-Town unravel as if on a movie projector. Furfur would report back to the Council on these happenings. He had seen everything, watching intently, and he was proud of his orders to cause such destruction to humans. But, he had also noticed the crouching boy and brightly glowing cat far off to the right of the melee. He wanted to know more about these two, but first he needed to know how to proceed. His timing must be flawless.

  Furfur started drilling himself back down through the tightly packed soil to the depths of hell. The trip down was gnarly at best. He wound like a top and cut through the endlessly dense layers, and just when he thought he couldn’t take another burning and twisting turn, he fell into a cavernous space. Pools and pits of bubbling lava burped up and splashed the surface. He wasn’t sure into which sector he had fallen, but he had a powerful nose for the main level where all tools of hell’s army were constructed. He could smell the iron ore cooking in the incinerators, melting and churning and spitting out through valves. The whole operation of which was manned by damned souls who were whipped for their never-ending efforts.

  Furfur kept moving, considering how he would phrase the recounting of events to the Council. Along the way, he passed tortured souls lost in the abyss, driven crazy from the experience. The place was hot and odorous, lacking anything living. Dense, tarnished, stagnant air filled hell’s chambers. Furfur was eager to impress the Council and prove himself as the thirteenth seat. He was the newbie and he was closely watched. Though his title was duke, he had not fully achieved the rank of a grand duke. He was hungry for this distinction.

  Floating beside the river of lava running down a cavern wall, he kept far left. Soon after, he scaled the wall to the top of the lava fall and traversed it. It was one of many obstacles. He passed a few guards walking a pair of hell hounds. These guard dogs were different than the retrievers. The retrievers were sent for souls. They were bred and taught to bite and pull the soul through the layers of earth and bring them back to hell. Most of the time, they accompanied their masters, who were sent on assignments to collect souls on the surface. When resistance of capture was suspected, the dogs would always accompany the masters. In minor cases, the dogs were sent on their own.

  The guard dogs were trained differently. They had only one master. There were also hybrids, special breeds that were High Council dogs. The devil himself had trained these dogs.

  Disobedience or falling out of line in hell was a crime, and authorities were always on the lookout for those few who did just that. Furfur had been banished many lifetimes ago. He was one of the multitudes who had fallen out with Satan himself.

  Furfur’s problem was that he was a narcissist who had worked his way up to look good. He was one who felt he was entitled to more than he had, and did not respect those around him. He was a loose cannon, really, and a liar and a cheat who could coerce others to move away from the light.

  The Council chamber was now close, and Furfur thought only of impressing his master. He wanted to be in the spotlight. He yearned for everyone to recognize him for his efforts, and so he continued to practice his speech, his long narrow tongue licking his slime-covered lips. He was a shriveled up fossil of a creature, lurking in the dark abyss

  The Council was not in session when Furfur hit the main factory floor. He saw Nebiros up on the great cliff, four hundred feet above the grand floor of mining and iron meltdown. Hordes of minions, enslaved for eternity, were being whipped constantly as they carried heavy chunks of ore pulled from the bowels of earth.

  Nebiros, the field marshal of hell, was one of the thirteen Council members. His primary focus was on the comings and goings from inside the walls. He looked over the work floor, and reported to the Council about his engineers, who slaved tirelessly. His report was one of the most extensive in all meetings. He was a valuable part of the evil equation, and one of the devil’s most trusted officers.

  As Furfur floated in with his black hood and cloak, he saw that Nebiros had spotted him. As he approached, he opened up his raven-like wings, and within a few fell swoops, he was at the top of the cliffs beside the revered officer.

  Nebiros stood still like a monument, dressed in commanding attire – black, leather armor mixed with chain mail, and a great belt around his waist, adorned by a mighty sword. His legs were coated in thick leather. He was a force with proven results, and few dared to question him.

  Furfur thought it would be best to let him in on the news in advance.

  “Hello, Nebiros, I bring word from the surface.”

  Nebiros stood like a statue with his arms crossed as he answered, “I don’t care. Go talk to your grand duke. It’s none of my concern!” Furfur felt like a school kid getting scolded by the teacher. He was angry, but he certainly didn’t want to challenge Nebiros. “Now get out of my area; you’re taking up space.”

  Furfur grit his teeth and flew off to the level below where there were different chambers for living, lounging, meeting, and torture for the executive Council. The governing authority’s thirteen members consisted of Balan, a king of hell; Beelzebub, prince of hell; Malphas, the grand president; Zabos and Amducaius, both grand dukes; Alocer and Asteroth, chief commanders of the satanic army (Asteroth also held grand duke status and was the Council’s treasurer); Baalberith, Council secretary; Lilith, bride to Satan, enemy to infants, and chief temptress to mankind; and Satan, head of it all. Furfur was the youngest Council member.

  The seat next to the devil was always empty. No one ever talked about why this was; it was assumed that everyone knew that this figure would come into play in future developments.

  Furfur despised having to report to his grand dukes – mostly to Zabos who was the oldest and the hardest on him. He constantly picked Furfur apart and grilled him at every turn, trying his hardest to prove Furfur wrong at the Council table.

  He landed near Amducaius perch, where he could think in peace. He was given gifts and a lavish place to rest. Furfur walked through his wide front entrance door and into the big, open foyer. Around the corner was the sitting room, lined with sofas, hammocks, and other plush areas to rest. In the middle of the room, sitting on a platform, were Amducaius and Zabos. Demon women were rubbing their shoulders as they drank wine from large goblets and conversed. Amducaius’s eye caught him at first glance. He welcomed him loudly, but Zabos remained quiet, his scaled eyes squinting in Furfur’s direction.

  This was not the scene the young count had hoped for, but he knew he must act professionally. He moved forth like an eager dog seeking praise, head bowed. He spoke softly.

  “I have news from the surface.”

  There was a long pause while Amducaius considered what Furfur was saying.

  “Come again, young count? What did you say?”

  “I have words from the surface,” he repeated, this time, louder.

  His elders looked at each other with condescending smirks.

  “OK. Well, then let’s have them,” Amducaius said.

  Furfur cleared his throat, willing the proper words to spew from his tongue.

  “I have just returned...”

  Amducaius cut in – “Well, obviously, you’ve just returned!” “Out with it, already! I don’t have time for your interruptions!�
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  It took another moment before Furfur regained composure and was able to convey to them what he long waited for.

  “We have a small force on the surface, a group of dark energies that have escaped from a tablet. They have been causing much disruption in a small town and, to date, have murdered more than thirty humans.”

  Amducaius narrowed his eyes. “Thirty individuals in what time-frame?”

  “Just a few days! I also directed their efforts to the local police station today where they took out half the police force.”

  Amducaius snapped his fingers at his temptresses. “Leave us!” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then added; “Were any souls collected?”

  “I saw the retrievers show without masters. The guardian’s shields were high. Nothing could penetrate this. It seems there were minimal efforts in today’s attempt.”

  “Not one soul out of it! Why not?” Zabos’s voice boomed. “What did you do about this? Did you not try to snatch one for yourself?”

  “I did not. I watched, undetected, and I gathered unraveled activity – the five that have been committing the acts. Three are soldier demons and two are children of the Watchers – Nephilim. The murder sites were places of massacres. The three soldiers inhabited bodies of homeless junkies who were already on their way down to us, and the cannibal babies took animal forms: black bears. But, while the slaughter in front of the police station brought about the biological deaths of the bears, the energies managed to invade two more human bodies – and cops at that!

  “On the day prior, the group had taken twenty lives, sending fifteen here for our hordes to feast upon, although the meat was light and heavily tainted, as the souls were far lost. But those tidbits are just the appetizer. I saw something else; a young boy and a cat, out of the way and hidden to resemble innocents. They had been crouching behind a car, watching and studying just as I had done. This cat was more than what it appeared to be. It was illuminated in a guardian light, and I think the boy knew it.”