Sarah focused on the spirit signatures she was sensing. She was nowhere near perfecting her ability to distinguish between the supernatural beings. One of them seemed a little familiar, but she wasn't entirely sure. Nervously, she spoke toward the ceiling again, "Watcher, please tell me what is going on."
Her father opened the front door and surprisingly allowed a strange man to step in. Though she didn't recognize him it was undeniable from his expression that her father did. Colton back pedaled in fright as the stranger steadily approached, bearing a familiar dark red aura of a shade that she had only seen a couple times before. It was at that moment that Watcher finally answered her.
He said, "Run!"
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: DEMONS
"This is very unusual," Hover stated the obvious. He was perplexed by the recent developments in the Hutchins home, as reported by both Watcher and Swift. His precarious task as legion head was to determine how things would affect the big picture. He was compelled to believe the former angel, Colton, when he reportedly stated that the demon Char would never give up on ruining his human life. The question at hand was whether they should do anything about it. Every action had a reaction. There was always a repercussion for everything that angels did. What initially looks to be a genuine good deed may have a considerably detrimental result instead.
"Please," Swift resorted to begging his boss. "Please allow me to protect this family. Or, better yet, send a guardian angel to assist us. These people have been tormented enough. At bare minimum, please give permission for my protection order to extend to the family, too."
"I believe that all mankind has been tormented enough," Hover replied. "It doesn't mean that I can fix it."
"Forgive my insolence, sir. But, in this instance, you can."
"I will need to think extensively about this, Swift. There is no further need for you to report back to me until I send for you. Let Watcher do the reporting. Your emotionally charged requests will have no favorable bearing on the decision. Surely, you realize this."
"What can I do for them if there is an attack while you are thinking?"
"You have your orders," Hover replied sternly. "I expect you to follow them. Now leave me. Return to your assignment if you desire to keep it."
Swift had a dozen more things he would like to say in support of his argument, yet he knew Hover was correct. It would not improve the chance of his request being approved. The elevated angelic leader already knew everything that Swift knew, and more. There was nothing additional that he could do but return to Sarah. So, he did.
However, as he approached the Hutchins home he became aware of a struggle. Not in the house. Both Sarah and her father appeared to be fine. It was a celestial battle, between spirits. Watcher was being viciously attacked by two demons. He swiftly joined the fight in support of his friend, and assessed the situation. Watcher projected a massive energy shield, placed between him and the larger demon. He was conjointly engaged in a close combat affair with the smaller one. With a copious amount of his energy concentrated toward the shield, he was not producing adequate progress. The greater foe almost appeared content to watch the other two clash, until he noticed Swift’s timely approach.
Warfare in the spirit world was much different than earthly physical battles. The closest thing that it could resemble would be rock-paper-scissors, funny enough. There were three types of energy that an angel or demon could use, and were commonly referred to by associated color. The first force was white energy. It was best suited toward creative efforts. Often it was used to create material items in the physical world. Swift had himself demonstrated the effect of white energy back in Salem by providing tangible signs for people to interpret. Demons sometimes would control physical objects with this form of energy in order to frighten people, such as to make a doll move around like it was alive. An immensely powerful angel could literally create something entirely original, like a brand-new animal species on earth. That rarely happened, though. An incredible volume of knowledge on how all creatures and plants depended on each other was required to make such an attempt. Alpha Omega used mostly white energy when he created the earth and nearly every living thing on it. At this time, Watcher was exercising this force to provide the shield that blocked his more impressive opponent.
Next among the trio was green energy. This force was well suited for empowering, or uplifting. An angel could help a human endure physical trials simply by providing them some of this precious energy. Guardian angels were stocked full of this stuff. A spirit creature could also use it to assist another spirit in his endeavors, or to recover quickly from an energy drain. Swift had seen a demon once whose sole purpose in battle was to re-energize his comrades as they fought. Green energy was also considerably more effective against white energy than the others.
The last energy type was referred to as red. This force was primarily for attacking, or bringing about some calamity. When anything destructive rained down to earth from the sky it was red energy that was adopted. If a demon wanted to propel a human across a room, or send an object of violence his way, it would be the red force favored. It was very effective against physical objects and green energy, but not so much against the white force. Thus, the rock-paper-scissors analogy.
The diverse population of angels and demons had varied limitations in each energy source. Additionally, those limitations would vary by overall strength, and by original purpose of the created entity. As mentioned, guardian angels had significantly more green energy. Creative angels had a bounteous supply of the white. Any celestial being whose primary purpose was to attack or cause damage generally had an excess of the red. The problem was, you never knew for sure how much each angel or demon had of each. Though, you could get an improved sense of their overall strength the closer you were to them.
In Swift's estimation, Watcher would be able to hold up indefinitely against his two foes. However, that could certainly depend on strategic energy use. To Swift's knowledge, Watcher had never before been in a fight. It wasn’t part of his purpose or design. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't know how. The white energy shield was effectively blocking the feeble thrust of red force against it from the larger demon. Swift was not familiar with either attacking villain, so he decided to refer to the larger one as Mister Big. Based on the current situation one would assume that Mister Big either had a meager supply of red energy or was planning on conserving it. Swift could not imagine why he would save it, but then again, he himself was not skilled in the art of battle.
The smaller demon he referred to as Little Guy. That assailant was alternating bursts of green and white energy as Watcher continuously switched productively between the green and red. Swift resolved to attack Lil Guy hoping to squash him quickly, thereby improving their ratio to two-to-one. He estimated that if Mister Big increased his offensive efforts against the shield, Watcher could in return direct his full attention to him. That would unfortunately prolong the battle, but Swift was confident in his ability to whip the Lil Guy's figurative butt.
Swift bolted the small one with red energy as he approached from what would be considered his rear. The Lil Guy took it hard and was noticeably drained from the double attack. Unexpectedly, Mister Big then abandoned his assault on the shield and concentrated a powerful double energy shard at Swift, comprising of both green and white forces. It was the first time that Swift had ever seen that done. Mister Big must be powerful indeed, or at least a strategic genius in battle. The shard pierced Swift quickly and immediately removed him from his attack on the Lil Guy. However, without any continued need for the shield Watcher converted all his efforts to demolishing the little guy with a strong bolt of red energy and drained the smaller spirit's energy forces to the point that he hastily fled the campaign.
Watcher promptly turned to the big guy and gave him a double slap of white and green, one from each side. The human equivalent of the maneuver would be a hilarious combo bitch slap. Swift was genuinely impressed. Mister Big recovered quickly, th
ough, and utilized an ever-changing defense that had him slowly gaining ground, so to speak, against Watcher. Swift snapped back into the action and visualized popping the bad guy solid right on the top of the head. His energy controller converted that image, to his delight, and figuratively did just that. Mister Big reeled from the dual barrage and finally noticed at that point that the Lil Guy had fled. He then followed suit, discontinuing the skirmish.
Swift, all caught up in the heat of the moment, asked Watcher, "Should we pursue?"
"No," Watcher replied with a rare elevation to his tone. "Swift, your human friend is in trouble."
For the first time since his arrival on the scene Swift turned his attention to the Hutchins home below and was thoroughly appalled by the sight.
CHAPTER NINETEEN: KNIFE
Before Sarah could heed Watcher's warning to run the intrusive red aura man threw a vicious punch at her father's chest, causing him to fly astonishingly across the room and into the photo covered wall. The drywall crumbled behind him as he slid to the floor among the broken glass in excruciating pain, gasping for breath.
"No!" Sarah screamed, instinctively running to her father's aid. Abruptly, she was stopped dead in her tracks when the stranger turned to face her with a wicked smile almost too big for his pale human face. There was both a cool anger and satisfaction in his expression, but his eyes looked like pure death. They pierced your soul while simultaneously opening a window into the underworld. Not even the hauntings frightened her as deep as those eyes.
"Hello, Sarah, our little girl," he said in a deep, reverberating voice that she knew all too well. It was Char. In the flesh. Literally. He then returned his attention back to Colton Hutchins as the injured man picked himself back up off the floor. Tilting his head to the side, in an extreme human expression, Char said to Sarah's father, "Your time has come, my friend."
Colton screamed out a guttural battle cry as he threw his shoulder into Char, but barely pushed him back an inch. The demon grabbed Colton by the shoulders and tossed him effortlessly across the room again. This time he landed on the floor within Sarah's reach. There was pain and sadness in her father's eyes as she dropped down to attend to him. Worse, though, was the expression of defeat. Sarah was suddenly sickened by it. Not in anger toward her father, but toward the devil that brought this calamity upon her family.
"Run," Colton barked out through the pain. "Save yourself. Find your mother and get everyone safe. Then call the police." He tried to push her away and toward the door.
"I can't leave you," Sarah replied, ignoring his plea.
"You have to go. There is nothing you can do here." Colton coughed hard, and a splattering of blood appeared on his lip.
"Swift! Watcher!" Sarah cried out as loud as she could, worriedly turning to face Char. He was walking slowly in their direction, savoring the destructive scene of his doing. His clothes indicated that he may have been dressed for church, or possibly pimping, when he decided to pay the Hutchins a visit. His expensive leather shoes treaded softly despite his long strides.
"They are dead, little one. They cannot help you now. Fortunately, it is only your father that remains to die today. I have other plans for you." Then Char grabbed Colton's shirt to lift him off the rug. When the fabric split noisily, he placed a hand under each arm to raise him up. Tilting his head back Char let out an otherworldly laugh, then thrust forward to strike her father's forehead with his own. Colton's eyes crossed momentarily before they closed, then his head went limp on his neck.
"No!" Sarah screamed once again as she grabbed Char's arm, only to find it a solid rock of unmovable muscle. She tugged to no avail, even pulled her feet off the floor to have all her weight hang from the super human elbow. Char chuckled as he let her father's limp form dropped to the living room carpet with a thud.
Without warning the demon brought his opposite hand around to smack Sarah firmly on the cheek. To her, it felt more like an aluminum baseball bat. The force nearly threw her body into a cartwheel. She immediately believed her jaw to be broken, but couldn't know for sure as the blinding pain took away most of her senses. Her head began to swim and her vision blurred. The world was swaying back and forth as a nauseating crimson tint clouded her view. She landed oddly on the carpet, but she couldn't tell where or even which direction she was facing. By instinct she attempted to crawl in the direction that she desperately hoped was the front door.
All clear thought was gone. Concern about her father's life. Fear that Swift and Watcher were actually dead, as Char stated. Worry about her mother, brother and sister. It all barely registered as her survival instinct kicked in and made her clutch at the carpet to get free. Then she felt two strong hands around her ankles lift her entire body from the floor. Upside down her ability to see was even more difficult as she struggled to make out the form of the tall man dressed in a black suit. Eventually, with tremendous effort, her eyes reached the wicked, demon face that had somehow become even more disturbing as it gave her a toothy grin.
Her hearing was apparently fine, though. She could make out her father's voice saying to put her down and leave her alone. It was a relief to know he was still conscious. She wasn't sure that he was even alive until she heard his voice. Predictably, Char ignored him as raised her up as high as she could go, her socks brushing against the ceiling. It placed her inverted face near his belly and chest. They maintained eye contact for a moment. Then Char said to her in the most sinister voice, "Are you a little whore like your mother?"
Sarah should have been immensely offended at the insult on her mother. Instead, she tried to puzzle over why he would say that. She also wondered what he intended for her. Obviously, she was no whore. In fact, she was still a virgin teenage girl. Did he intend to rape her? Was that what he meant by "other plans for you?"
Sarah then noticed a light go out somewhere behind Char and abruptly the top of his head was knocked to the side by an object. She clumsily fell to the floor as Char released her ankles and turned around. Behind him stood her father with a busted lamp in one hand, while the other arm cradled his damaged ribs. She managed to get on all fours and clear her vision some with a few vigorous shakes of her head. She believed that she could reach Char's ankle, but was dreadfully unsure of what good that could possibly do. She was incredibly weak. It would be all she could manage to just untie his shoe lace. Before she could act, though, he stepped out of her reach to approach her injured father.
"Die already," Char said through gritted teeth. His devilish smile turning to a grimace. He pulled back a fist to strike Colton from the same side as his intended target’s arm that was tucked around his broken body. Instead of raising that arm to protect himself, or the moving the lamp into the path, Colton braced for the impact while thrusting the broken bulb end of the lamp into Char's firm belly. Her father was knocked to the floor again. Responsively, it was great to see the demon grab his stomach. And even better to see blood on his hand when he pulled it away. A low growl emitted from Char’s throat as he stepped onto her father's exposed wrist. The loud crunching of bones was sickening. Colton's hand was forced to release the lamp.
Expecting her father to cry out in intense pain Sarah was totally surprised to see him take in a deep breath then mutter a string of words in another language. It sounded like a prayer, or possibly a ritual chant. The words may have been Latin, or any other language as far as Sarah was concerned. She did not recognize a word. Char then reached down with both hands to strangle him. Whether it was to kill him or keep him from finishing the prayer she was not sure. All she knew was that she needed to come to her dad’s rescue.
Physically, she was obviously no match for the demon powered man that was taking away her father's life. She needed a weapon. Gaining her feet better than she had thought she was able, she awkwardly bounced off walls and counters until she reached the knife rack in the kitchen. Grabbing the first hilt she could reach she was happy to see it was the French chef's knife. That was the most intimidating of the collection
, she thought. Then another thought. If one knife was a good idea, two knives was even better. Gripping a second hilt produced a smaller version of the first knife. She did not know what it was called, but was certain it was sharp enough to cut flesh.
Sarah was stunned to find the battle continuing in the demolished living room. Char's hands were still around her father's throat. However, his face was taking a barrage of punches as Colton's good arm swung speedily. It was almost humorous to see the demon's reddening face bouncing back repeatedly like a punching bag. Finally, he released his grip on Colton's neck to block the strikes and began throwing some of his own. He was then straddling her father as they threw blow after blow against each other without any concern for deflecting the punches.
Sarah ran over and swung the large knife as hard as she could at the villain, producing a huge gash across one of Char's muscular forearms. He gasped in surprise, then directly struck her in the gut with the injured limb, causing her to double over and drop both knives. Colton quickly grabbed the large knife and waved it toward Char's neck. Unfortunately, Char blocked the slashing blade with his already bloody arm. Incredibly fast, the demon grabbed the second knife and shoved it deep into her father's chest. All arms stopped moving as Colton's face showed both the shock and pain of the deadly wound. Char then twisted the knife with both hands until the life finally drained from her father's eyes. Sarah lay there with both arms around her body, struggling to breathe as her father died before her. There was nothing she could do but cry, and that was difficult with the wind knocked out of her. She choked instead as the tears literally exploded from her eyes.
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